The Strange Inheritance – Part Seven – A Multiple Word Prompt Story

I have been writing this creepy horror story for a while now and I hope to write the final part in time for Halloween. This is the next bit.

If you’d like to start reading it from the beginning, here is the first bit:

This story contains the following word prompts:

FOWC with Fandango — Fierce

Jennifer had forgotten that tonight was Halloween until Mrs Ponsomby had mentioned it. For some reason, it gave her quite a jolt, sending a shiver that she felt gradually creep down her spine. The already grim atmosphere in the house seemed to increase. Despite the fact that it was still daylight outside, she got up and turned on the lamp on a nearby table.

The additional light made her feel fractionally better. The bulb flickered and buzzed in its old-fashioned leather lampshade. moth-eaten gold tassels hung around the edge, in keeping with the general shabbiness. Most of the books lining the shelves showed the damage of the years. A damp patch on the ceiling threatened further damage to come, and this was one of the better rooms in the dilapidated old ruinous house. The sooner they tore it down the better, as far as she was concerned.

“Well, just one more night and then the money will all be ours,” she said to herself. She wasn’t by nature a particularly money oriented person but having endured one night in this godforsaken place with another one to come, she felt she’d earned it fair and square.

Continue reading The Strange Inheritance – Part Seven – A Multiple Word Prompt Story

The Strange Inheritance Part Three – A multiple word prompt story.

This is a continuation of a previous story I wrote, See here for part one:

and here for part two:

Part Three

The three of them sat at the large dining table and ate the Shepherds Pie that Mrs Ponsomby had made.

Jennifer realised that the peeling green wallpaper had been hiding the mould growing in several places, but it couldn’t mask the odour.

It wasn’t just the unpleasant smell that was spoiling the delicious meal, it was also James’ demeanour. He had always been a broody young man, but his mood seemed to be getting darker and darker with every passing minuted spent in this house.

He was practically glaring at Aunt Elizabeth who sat demurely at the other end of the table, with that strange contented expression on her face.

“Well, it seems that Mrs Ponsomby is a good cook. Although Shepherd’s pie is rather a commoners dish. When I was a girl here we used to have banquets with Suckling Pig and veal, only the very best meat. Father would butcher the animals himself. He didn’t have to, but he liked it. He said he wanted to know exactly where his meat came from and who killed it.”

“Oh, how awful!” Exclaimed Jennifer.

“Oh, do you think so? I suppose young people today have different attitudes to such things. Father was very much a traditional man. He loved hunting, shooting and fishing. He would have been your great-grandfather, wouldn’t he? I keep forgetting we’re related. I’m sorry, my dear, but you don’t quite look like you belong in this house.” Aunt Elizabeth’s voice held nothing but mild-mannered congeniality and her smile never left her face.

James spoke rather aggressively “Well, I’m glad of that. I don’t think either of us wants to belong in this house. Personally, I can’t wait for it to be sold and torn down. The sooner this weekend is over and Jennifer and I get out of here, the better.”

Aunt Elizabeth didn’t flinch at James harsh tone, she just smiled back at him “Well, that’s because you don’t have all the happy memories of growing up here that I have. All finished? Jennifer, can you give me a hand with the dishes? I don’t want to leave a lot of work for Mrs Ponsomby in the morning.”

James went into the Drawing room. The smell of damp wasn’t quite as bad here. He lit the gas fire, which helped to make the room feel cosier and sat down in the large leather armchair and nodded off.

In the kitchen, Aunt Elizabeth was drying the dishes and telling Jennifer about some of the fun times she’d had in the house growing up.

“Emily, your grandmother, and I used to put on revues in the Drawing room, We’d emerge from behind the large curtains in our ballet shoes and dance around to a gramophone record, Swan Lake or Sleeping Beauty. Edgar would watch us. Joshua never did, he was an old sombersides, he used to sit in the Library and read.”

Just then they heard a dog bark outside. Jennifer looked out of the kitchen window, a large dog was on the driveway barking at the house. She heard it’s owner, who was standing on the roadside, calling his dog back.

“Come away from there Duke, don’t go near that house. Come away I said.” The dog whined and reluctantly obeyed its owner and quickly they were swallowed by the night.

“At least that horrible storm has passed over and the rain’s eased off. I didn’t fancy my chances of getting much sleep tonight with that storm about.” Jennifer said turning to Aunt Elizabeth as she was drying the last plate.

“Oh, you have to sleep. In this house, it’s the safest way, my dear. I’m going to make myself a glass of hot milk to take up to bed. Would you like one?” Her smile was warm, but her eyes remained always the same, somehow detached from reality.

“No Thank you, Aunt Elizabeth, I’m going to sit with James for a while before bed.” 

James was fast asleep, but she shook him awake. Realising what he’d done his eyes shot open and he jumped out of his chair. “What? how long have I been asleep?”

“Oh, barely twenty minutes. I’ve just done the dishes. Look, James. I don’t think Aunt Elizabeth is quite right in the head. One minute she’s telling me about how nice it was growing up, then she says something quite strange about this house. She said that you have to sleep because it’s the safest way. What do you think she meant?”

“Don’t worry about it. She must think we were born under a haystack or something if she thinks we’re going to fall for her tricks. She’s trying to scare us. If we leave this house, before the Sunday afternoon, we forfeit our share of the inheritance. She’ll get the lot. She’s a crafty old devil. Don’t trust her and don’t accept anything she gives you. She’s full of tricks.”

“She wanted to make me a milky drink to help me sleep. I said no.”

“That’s my girl. Don’t be taken in for a second. I’ve moved your things into that Mauve room next to me. I’ve taken the blue room next door. We’ll have a shared bathroom so I can keep an eye on you. Lock your door and wedge a chair under it.”

As James was giving instructions to Jennifer, he realised that Aunt Elizabeth was standing in the doorway carrying a saucer with a steaming glass of milk on it.

“I’m just off to bed. I wouldn’t stay up late if I were you. You would be much better off in your rooms. I just wanted to warn you about this house. You may hear strange noises in the night. You may hear a scream, but whatever you do, you mustn’t go down to the cellar at midnight. Ignore the voices, they’ll try to torment you. Goodnight.” She smiled at them and then climbed the creaky wooden stairs up to her bedroom.

End of Part Three.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 06/September/2018

Today’s things are: hay stack, scream, ballet shoes

The Strange Inheritance Part Two – A multiple word prompt story.

This is a continuation of a previous story I wrote, See here:

The Strange Inheritance – Part Two

Even though the house was falling apart and the smell of damp permeated throughout, Jennifer had to admit it must have been a really grand house at one time.

Downstairs there was a large dining room with green peeling wallpaper, A living room painted cream, a billiard room, painted bright red and a Library lined wall to wall with books.

She was impressed, she had no idea that her family must have been very grand at one time. She, along with her brother, had grown up in an orphanage and so she didn’t really know much about the family history. Her brother was a few years older and he knew a bit more, but not much. What he did know he didn’t like to talk about. He had always been surly and volatile but he had looked after her, wouldn’t let her out of his sight. In some ways, it had held her back.  A few times at the orphanage a couple had come and wanted to adopt her, but her brother always insisted that she wasn’t going anywhere without him. They’d take one look at this dark, broody lad with those dark staring eyes and would decide to take one of the others instead. Still, he was the only family she really knew. She had known about Aunt Elizabeth but at the funeral and the reading of the will was the first time that she’d met her, or at least remembered meeting her. James said that she’d briefly taken them in when their parents died. He’d been six and so still remembered, but she had been only three. Aunt Elizabeth was a strange one. She was tall and thin and gave the impression of being a dithery old lady, she was in her late seventies, but her eyes were sharp and darted around taking everything in. She also often had the strangest smile on her face. Frankly, she gave her the creeps.

Continue reading The Strange Inheritance Part Two – A multiple word prompt story.

50 Word Thursday # 90 – Hell Hath No Fury


As he stood there staring off into the distance he could just make out a lonely figure looking no bigger than an ant. He knew it was her. Clearly, she just didn’t know who she was dealing with. He was known for the fury of his temper, his ability to sustain any amount of injury and there she stood waiting for him, calmly.

He closed the gap and delivered his final eulogy. ““You worry me, Catherine. You seem to think you’re quite invincible.”

He lifted the iron bar, then she lifted up the gun and he knew she had won.

[100 Words]

This was written for the 50 Word Thursday challenge, click on the link below to see the original post:

I have also included the following word prompts:

50 Word Thursday #87

It’s time again for that brilliant creative writing challenge, the 50 Word Thursday challenge.

I am taking it in turns to host this challenge with Deb Whittam of the blog Twenty Four. Click on the link below to see her post about the results of last weeks challenge:

So, now to this weeks challenge:

The Rules:

  • Find the muse within the photo or line provided and follow where it leads. It can be a story, anecdote, poem. Anything!
  • The Story must be between 50 and 250 words, in 50-word increments. (so 50, 100, 150, 200 or 250 words)
  • Link back to this post with the tag 50WordThurs so that everyone can find it, or post your response in the comments below.

So here is the picture for this week:

And the Words: “Sorrow came—a gentle sorrow—but not at all in the shape of any disagreeable consciousness” – Jane Austen’s Emma.

I hope you enjoy this week’s challenge. I will gather together all the entries and publish a results post on Wednesday.

Have fun. 🙂

50 Word Thursday – A late entry


This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday challenge, this week hosted by Deb Whittam who stepped in to rescue the day when I forgot to post.

Click on the link to see her original post:

Here is my entry:

The scene was idyllic, like out of a dream. Ironic because he’d been caught in a dream for most of his life. Dreams can be lovely or they can be hell. This dream had been a nightmare of his own creation.

It was one of those difficult messages that was so hard to take in, the hardest lesson of all to learn, that our lives are really the legacy of our own actions or the result of our inaction to change it.

Once he had been reminded of this fact he had taken action, finally and removed himself from the situation. He had climbed out of the window and to all intents and purposes, disappeared.

The nightmare was over and here he stood in paradise on the banks of a river.

A young man walked over to him.

“Hey, would you like me to row you across to the other side?”

He ran his gnarled hands through his wispy white hair and smiled at the young man who reminded him so much of himself before his life had taken a turn into the dark.

“Yeah, why not” he replied and let the young man guide him gently into the boat.

[200 Words]

I have also included the following word prompts:

A Steampunk Story – A slightly longer version.

I set out to write a 42 word story for Deb Wittam’s challenge, See link below:

But then I decided I wanted to write a slightly longer version as the character intrigued me. So here goes, I hope you like it:


The crazy-haired inventor stared at his reflection in the looking-glass. His steam-powered hair rejuvenator made popping sounds as he lifted it to his head and tamed his wild white hair, His eyes protected from the diabolical heat by his green glass goggles.

By the standards of the day, he was naked, which meant that he was fully clothed in his underwear, which covered him from the neck to his knees in horizontally blue and grey striped wool.

Also, by the standards of the day he was seen as a delinquent, neither a wealthy aristocrat nor a hard-working citizen. He may well have been a dope fiend the way decent folk gave him a wide birth.

People failed to consider the inventor as a valid member of society but that didn’t stop them from using his steam-powered gyrocopter to travel to the Riviera for their summer hols, or his piston-powered potato masher. Even the good old Queen herself had been known to use his steam-powered titilatory discombobulator, for what purpose one can only guess but her innocent demeanour was clearly deceiving.

Just then, the heat from his hair rejuvenator set his eyebrows alight.

After the necessary application of Dr Quakular’s Eyebrow soother, he sat down and took his new invention apart again, his skills at tinkering were uncanny.  He was determined to prevail and always had to finish any invention he had started, which probably accounted for why he’d only invented three things so far and one of those had an appalling safety record. Thank goodness health and safety legislation was something only seen in science fiction novels.


I have included the following word prompts:

FOWC with Fandango — Finish



50 Word Thursday #78 – Without due Caution.


And the words:

“She launched herself at their leader.” – Lorraine Heath’s When A Duke Loves A Woman

This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday challenge, hosted this week by Deb Whittam:



The lake was beautiful and tranquil, an oasis of peace in the middle of a busy zoo.

You could hear in the distance the occasional roar of a lion or the chatter of monkeys, but that didn’t detract from the stillness of that place.

Then a gang of youths appeared, shouting at each other, boasting and taunting.

On the edge of the lake swam some baby swans. One of the kids picked one up and then threw it at one of his friends who caught it.

The Mother swan came out of nowhere and she launched herself at their leader, squawking loudly with a frantic beating of her wings.

Now it’s an empirical fact that Mother swans have been known to kill to protect their young.

It’s a shame that those kids hadn’t known that or maybe they would have shown more caution and then they’d still be alive today.

[150 Words]


I have also included the following word prompts:

FOWC with Fandango — Empirical

50 Word Thursday #77 – The Birthday Wish



And the Words:

“It is a puzzle. How can life go on its stupid course on such a day?” – Tortilla Flat, John Steinbeck. 

This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday Challenge:


As she wandered through the parterre the neatly clipped box barely caught her eye and the lavender with its perfume failed to penetrate the thoughts that kept her occupied. She paused to admire the bronze statue, a paragon of manly virtue. Her eye took in each curve of muscle. She’d led a sheltered life, staring at this statue had been the extent to her experience of the carnal. She had just turned forty and a lonely spinster who had inherited a fortune but had no one to enjoy life with. Despite her birthday, she was in no mood for celebration. Instead, she stared longingly at the familiar statue and made a wish.

Suddenly there was a flash that temporarily blinded her and a loud metallic noise like the sounding of a gong. Her heart raced and she was afraid that something momentous had happened. The statue had come to life its dark bronze patina replaced by tanned flesh.

It is a puzzle, How can life go on its stupid course on such a day?

As the man climbed down from his plinth, she caught sight of something and realised that despite huge muscles other things appeared to be quite diminutive.

[200 Words]


I have also included the following word prompts:

FOWC with Fandango — Diminutive


50 Word Thursday #76 – A Secret from the Past


And the words:

“Sometimes, it’s not your secret to tell.” ― Stephenie Meyer, New Moon

This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday Challenge. Click on the link below to take part, you have until Wednesday to post your own story.


I grew up on the coast but it wasn’t a popular stretch of beach, the weather was far too changeable. The waves were too rough for swimming. Sometimes a group of surfers would come and use the beach, but mostly it was just dog walkers who trod that lonely stretch of sand.

It was commonly said that the beach was haunted. Everyone in that part of the world knew the tale of a woman found strangled on the beach but how her ghost still walked the shore on quiet nights calling out the name of her lover. It had been nearly a hundred years ago, but still, that legend haunted me. I felt some strange connection to the story, possibly because the name the people heard her call out was the same name given to me at birth, Lawrence.

It was my Uncle who gave me the opportunity to explore the past. He was a mad scientist who had discovered the secret of time travel, although you could only go backward through time never forward.

Sending me back to find out what had happened to that woman murdered on the beach had seemed the only way to stop thinking about it.

However, I found out more than I could cope with.

I could never share what I had discovered, sometimes it’s not your secret to tell, but it had been my fault. It was me who was responsible for that woman’s death and why her ghost called out my name.

[250 Words]


I have also included the following word prompts: