MULTIPLY The Horror of it All: Charlie

It all started as a surprise for Walter. He was now twelve years old and on that day his wish was to be fulfilled. His mother and father accompanied him to the animal home. He wanted a pet, a nice cuddly dog. As they entered the pens where the dogs were kept it seemed as if the dogs had got together to act as loud and loving as they could, barking at the top of their lungs saying please take me.

“OK son” said Walter’s dad “it is your dog, so make your choice” but Walter was overwhelmed with so many homeless dogs. It was then that he spotted a little grey puppy sitting on its own in a corner. The other dogs seemed to avoid it and when it tried to come a bit nearer, it was pushed back with a howling and growling.

“That is my dog” thought Walter “I will make him a good home and he will be my faithful pal. I want that one” he said pointing to the little grey dog in the corner.”

“Are you sure son” asked his parents. “He doesn’t seem to be as active as the other dogs. He certainly is no thoroughbred, but if that’s the one you want son, that’s your dog” and that was how Walter was given Charlie, which was to be the name of the new arrival in the family.

Walter took him in his arms and the little puppy licked Walter’s hand as if to say thank you. The puppy did seem to like the taste of Walter’s fingers and nipped one of them.

“Ow” said Walter, “you must be hungry”.

“What’s up Walter?” asked his mother

“I think my puppy is hungry, he tried to eat one of my fingers” and Walter laughed and so did his mum and dad.

When they arrived home, there was already a little bed and food waiting for the new arrival. Charlie found his way around quickly, but it seemed he really had a tremendous appetite. He finished his bowl of food and was looking at Walter with his big brown eyes as if to say “is that all?” Obviously you cannot leave a little dog without food in a strange place on the first day, so Charlie got second helpings.

Charlie made himself at home and grew and grew and grew. He also loved to go for walks with Walter. The only problem was that he kept straining on the line to go off on his own. Walking through the forest was easier, as Walter could remove the lead. Unfortunately Charlie would gallop away and usually return with a dead animal in his mouth. At the beginning when Charlie was small, it was just the odd mouse, and perhaps a rat. As Charlie was growing Walter had to search for him in the forest. He usually found him where he was tearing at the remains of a squirrel or perhaps a bird, that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was then noticed that Charlie was changing, although Walter and his parents thought this normal for a dog. After a year doubts began to grow. The full moon nights were the worst. Charlie would scratch at the door and jump at the window trying to go outside. Just for peace of mind Walter would put him on the lead and go out with him for a few minutes to calm him down. It was once very embarrassing when Mrs. Smith’s cat walked passed. Charlie was off like a streak of lightening and the poor cat eventually managed to save itself from Charlie’s claws and jaws by climbing the nearest tree. Unfortunately it was stranded and the firemen had to be called to retrieve the cat. Mrs. Smith was quite annoyed and told Walter parents that she would not pay the bill; after all it was their canine monster that attacked her cat.

“Son, we have to have a talk” said Walter’s father. “Charlie is becoming a problem.”

“Just because he happened to chase Mrs. Smith’s cat, that’s normal for a dog.”

“No, not quite son; he seems to be changing.”

“Dad, he is just a dog, and is getting bigger. He isn’t a puppy any more.”

“That’s what I mean son. He eats as much meat as we do and to be quite honest I don’t like the look in his eyes now and again.”

If Walter was quite honest, he also had his doubts about Charlie. He had not told his father about the incident that occurred a few days ago when he saw Charlie burying something in the garden. He dug it up and found it to be a human finger. Now Walter was shocked, but he just did not want any problems, so kept quiet about it. If Walter had searched further, he might have found the hand that belonged to it. Walter’s father did read in the newspaper about a body that had been found in the nearby forest, belonging to a tramp, its hand missing, but thought no more of it. Looked like animals had got to the tramp, and that was the end of it. Probably the tramp died from an overdose of alcohol and the animals did the rest.

The last straw was when Charlie’s teeth fell out. Dennis was certainly worried, but the new teeth soon grew; much longer, more pointed than those previous. It was then that Walter’s parents said enough was enough. Charlie must go, he looked like something from a freak show. Walter was sad, he didn’t want to lose his companion. Eventually the arrangement was made that Charlie could stay, but he must now live outside in the garden in a special dog kennel. The funny thing was that it did not seem to bother Charlie at all. He was quite happy living outside.

In the meanwhile a few cats had disappeared from the neighbourhood and Mr. Smith was missing. These things always seemed to happen on moonlit nights. If someone had been watching, they would have noticed that Charlie was not stupid. He was actually very clever. You just had to hypnotise your human to do it. Of course Dennis did not realise this, nor did he remember sleep walking to the garden in the morning when Charlie returned and replacing the lock.

Eventually things came to an end when Charlie made his metamorphosis. Again there was a full moon and Charlie had developed such strength that he stood on his hind legs and howled to be heard by all. Someone in the neighbourhood called the police, but there was no Charlie any more in his dog kennel. The kennel had been reduced to a pile of wood, mixed with the bones of Mr. Smith and a few missing cats; the identity of the bones was later discovered upon their examination.

Charlie was gone. Now and again someone disappeared from the neighbourhood, their remains usually being found in the forest. Charlie’s lair had not yet been discovered, he had been building a nice safe place for some time. Every walk he took with Walter in the forest without his lead, he managed to construct a little bit more in his cave.

So if you decide to buy your son or daughter a dog, then have a good look first. If the other dogs in the pound seem to avoid the dog you want, then you must also avoid it. There could be a reason.

Click here for more

MULTIPLY The Horror of it All, Challenge #9: End Station

The train was waiting at the station for the signal to leave. Gilbert had to run. Things did not go as well as he had planned and he only caught the train at the last minute. He jumped on the steps just as it was pulling out and managed to find his balance in the corridor. The wheels began to turn pulling the train out of the station along the rails and Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief.

He looked along the corridor searching for a quiet place to rest. Still out of breath, but now glad that he could take it easy. He found a compartment with an empty seat and sat down, hoping that no-one would acknowledge him and start talking. He did not even have a newspaper or book to bury his head in. Everything had to happen so quickly. He looked out of the window. It was evening, but quite bright, it was a full moonlit night. “Typical” he thought, "on such a night I have to travel where everyone can see me”. He would have preferred less light, it was then that the train entered a tunnel and he had his wish. Nothing could be seen, it was quiet and dark prevailed.

To Gilbert it seemed like a never ending tunnel, but it did not bother him. He closed his eyes and slept, confronted with his dreams of the past.

“Next Saturday at the theatre after curtain fall. Here is your ticket. You know what to do” said his client adding “and make sure you don’t miss.”

Gilbert never missed. He could not afford to miss, it was his job.

After the killing he managed to get to the station. He knew he was tight on time, and he still had the gun with him. He was hoping to be able to dispose of it on the moving train, and decided to relax until the tunnel came to an end. He would then take a walk in the train and throw the gun out of a window at the next best opportunity.

Suddenly the train jolted and shook Gilbert enough to bring his doze to an end. The tunnel had come to an end and although the moon was still shining it seemed to be casting a reddish glow on the landscape. He looked around and saw that the compartment was almost empty, with the exception of a man sitting opposite Gilbert.

The man laughed “Had a good sleep?” he asked.

Gilbert was not in the mood for a conversation, but decided he did not want to cause any trouble. “Thank you, yes” was his answer. “We must have stopped at a few stations on the way while I slept, I see that the compartment is now almost empty.”

“Oh yes” said the stranger “there was one part of the journey where everyone left the train except for us.”

Gilbert thought this a strange answer and examined his neighbour closer. He was dressed completely in black; black trousers, a long black coat and wearing a white shirt with a black tie. His face was a great contrast to the darkness of his clothes and seemed to be reflecting in the red glow of the surrounding light outside the train.

“Do we have far to the end station?” Gilbert wanted to know. The train was destined for the coast and Gilbert was eager to take the ship across the channel to France; to disappear in another country.

“I believe our journey is almost finished” said the neighbour. “If you look further out of the window you will see your destiny.”

“My destiny? Sounds like a complete final solution. I only want to travel to the end station.”

“As I said, take a glance out of the window, the end station is quite near.”

Gilbert looked out of the window and saw only the fields passing by, illuminated by the glow of the moon. It was then that he saw a reflection on the fields of the train, but something unexpected. Not just the train carriage, but a shape on the roof of the train. He looked up and heard his carriage companion laugh.

“Everything under control” he said. “It is only the survivors that reached the membership of the human race. The train travelled over a red light just before you began to sleep and found its end station in the pillar of a bridge. Some of the fellow travellers had to continue their journey in another direction, but they will be cared for into eternity, like yourself Gilbert.”

Gilbert was feeling rather strange “I don’t understand. What is that “thing” perched on the train roof and what is happening. Is this a bad joke?”

“Oh no, the joke is on you Mr. Gilbert. After so many successful jobs, it is now your turn. You were amongst those that stopped existing after the train crashed. You can perhaps be proud that your last job was the Prime Minister of the country where you lived. Sorry for the past tense, but you will now come with me and my friend on the roof of the train. Our journey is eternal, some might say, the journey to hell.”

Click here for more

MULTIPLY The Horror of it all: Dr. George Briggs

Dr. George Briggs had a job he loved. Since he was a boy he was interested in how the body works. Not just the on-the-surface stuff, but the details. Reflecting back to the times when he was training as a doctor, he found them to be the most enjoyable of his life. His first year in the university gave him the opportunity to work in the mortuary where the bodies of patients were kept. Dead matter: but that made no difference to George. He was fascinated by the details of their insides and outsides. Keeping the bodies nice and fresh was most interesting. He did have a proud feeling when the bodies were picked up for burial, knowing that some of his work contributed to their fresh appearance. He was never actually praised for his work, but achieving the best results for the pathology examination was reward enough. What he did not know was the nickname he had from the other students: “Grizzly George”.

With time George passed through all the facets of medical school, and was qualified, but pathology remained his favourite. He did not actually want to become a pathologist, but remained at medical school teaching other students the details of the work.

George had become quite a well-known authority in his job and financially he was well rewarded. He had never married, not that he wanted to marry, but he never seemed to be lucky finding the right partner. Perhaps it was the answer to his occupation that deterred a future partner. It was not exactly cheerful when someone answered “pathology professor” and went on to explain the details of the work. George just did not seem to realise that this remark could work in a negative way on a young lady, but George was human and had the same human desires any any other man. He soon discovered that he could have a girlfriend, if he paid enough, and that was the solution to satisfying his desires.

George also had a hobby. It started when he was a boy, to be exact it was when his father was driving and ran over a cat that had strayed at the wrong time into the path of their car. It happened just around the corner to where he lived. George’s mother started crying and his father was devastated. This seemed strange to George. He saw the poor creature on the road, not a very pretty sight, but that night he crept out of the house and took a closer look. He knew why, and put some of the cats organs into a glass jar he had taken with him for that purpose. After a while he had to throw them away as they did not stay as fresh as George would have liked them to. After the cat there were a few mice and birds, but always the same problem. The body parts just did not stay fresh. He managed to keep his curious hobby to himself, stowing his souvenirs away in the garden shed, and eventually mixing them with the compost heap in the garden.

Of course, when George began his studies, all his problems were solved. Now he could smuggle a few human parts out of the mortuary. Who missed the odd kidney or liver? No-one really, the bodies were sewn together again, mostly by George. The other students did not seem to be so keen on the work. He had also now learned how to preserve his keepsakes, although it seemed to his parents that his requirements for alcohol were quite high. George reassured them that it was important as a medicine student for certain experiments he had to carry out. He then kept his “collection” under the floor boards in his room and was glad for the day when he eventually qualified and could afford his own apartment. He just bought an extra refrigerator. Eventually he was in such a good financial position that he could buy his own house. He made sure that the cellar area was large enough to accommodate the many glasses with their contents. Now that he was professor, his opportunities were vast and he needed room.

He still paid his visits now and again to a certain part of town where women were easy to buy. One evening he was on his way when he saw a female figure waiting on the street corner.

“Going anywhere special mister? Need company?”

George decided why go shopping when the goods were already there.

“How much?” he asked.

The prostitute named him a price and he decided that would be just right.

"Where are we going?” George asked.

“At the moment, I don’t have my own place” she said. “I’m sharing with a girl friend and she is busy at the moment”. She gave George a wink as she said it.

George realised what she meant and invited her back to his place. He had a plan developing in his twisted pathological mind. “Why have a kidney when you can have all”. So the lady decided to accept and went willingly with George. On the way George noticed that his new friend had a few tell-tale marks on her arm, obviously she was a drug addict, but he did not mind.

They arrived at George’s house and the prostitute asked how he liked it. George said just normal would do, but let’s have a drink first to get warmed up. He prepared two glasses of whisky and the girl’s eyes lit up. She was not used to being spoilt like this. However, George had mixed something in her drink and she soon fell asleep, never to awaken again.

George had to think fast. He decided the deep freezer was the best place for the body until he had organised things. The first purchase he made was a glass tank, the size being high enough and wide enough to accommodate one human body. He then ordered the various chemicals he needed and filled the tank. He also did some shopping, buying the sort of clothes he liked to see a woman dressed in, telling the shop assistant it was a surprise for his wife. His taste was light chiffon that moved in the breeze, knowing that in liquid the same effect would be achieved. He soon had everything organised in the cellar and the young lady’s body was put into the liquid in the tank wearing the clothes George had bought especially for the occasion. He was quite pleased with the result.

There are some men that steal a painting by a master, lock it away and spend hours just looking at it on their own. So it was with George, but he like to watch his own personal human specimen. It seemed that the “specimen” he had in his tank was not missed. There was nothing mentioned on the news on the television or in the newspapers, but there was one thing that was bothering George. His “specimen” was not exactly a good one. Why buy a painting on a market stall when you can have a Van Gogh?

George went hunting. He wanted something perfect. He decided to take a walk to a better part of town near the park. He soon found his ideal woman. She was walking along the street; just someone that decided to go out at the wrong time in the wrong place. George liked her curves, her face, her hair, it was perfect, real class. He pulled up beside her and asked the way to a certain street. She bent forward to give an answer and before she knew what had happened George had injected her with a heavy sedative. As it was near the park, there were no people watching and George dragged her into the car.

She also never woke up, and was soon in the tank, the other inferior piece being removed and dissolved in another tank with acid. George of course dressed his new victim for the part. Now George was happy. He had a perfect “specimen” in his tank and could watch her for hours on his own.

This time there was a small catch in his capture. He had captured the police chief's wife. I suppose all criminals make mistakes at some time or another.

Click here for more

MULTIPLY The Horror of it all #7: A Head too many

The sword was still sharp, despite the heads that had rolled that day. Its blade was dripping red with the blood of its victims. How he was tired of this war, but he knew, if it is not the other, then it will be me. He felt a sting in the back of his neck and another head rolled, but this time it was different. He was not looking at a stranger, a number in the crowd of men coming towards him, no. It was his head looking up, with eyes that saw no more.

A plain spread out in front of him, wide and white, almost blinding, but there in the centre was a giant waiting for him, perhaps. Its head was watching him approach. The closer he got the more details he saw. A head, perhaps female, with hair drifting onto its shoulders. And the eyes: there was something evil in those eyes. Something was drawing him, pulling him into its clutches. Then he saw the door, the entrance.

“We are ready for you” the words resounded throughout the barren landscape. It should have been cold, as cold as the ice fields to the right and left of the monster, but he felt no cold, felt no warmth, his body was numb.

“Is this hell?” he asked, his words echoing through the emptiness of the air.

“Hell is where you find it” spoke the colossus. “Do you think you deserve hell?” was its question

“I found hell on the battlefield, killing and decapitating my antagonists. It was them or myself.”

“And now it is you. Your life is terminated. You now meet the final test.”

“My life has been one test? Do I again endure the horrors of combat, of killing men that were strangers. Their only crime being that they worship another god, or speak a different language.”

“Here the killing is finished. Death is conclusive - there is no return. Look into my cloak.”

The cloak became misty and then it cleared. He saw once again the battlefield, but there was no action. Just bodies laying one by one, the grass coloured red from the bloodshed of the battle. He looked closer and knew something was wrong. There was a large pit dug by the prisoners of this war, those that lost, and the bodies were being collected and piled into the pit. He was startled as he saw a head that he recognised, his own face with its unseeing eyes and mouth that would no longer be able to kiss his wife in a warm embrace. He then realised this was his end in a war he never wanted; a King who wanted more, more land, more wealth, and above all more power. He was just a small piece of the machinery turning to satisfy his King, but his King was wrong and he lost.

The scene changed and he saw his wife and children, marching along a road surrounded by other victims of a never-ending bottomless war; the children crying and their mother hugging them close. He again looked up at the figure,

There was a change. The hard face of the giant had become softer, her eyes also had tears and she looked at the soldier.

“The door is open, enter, you will now find the peace you have been craving for.”

Click here for more

MULTIPLY the Horror of it All Challenge #6: My Beautiful Baby

“Hi mum I’m home“

“Hi Jasper, how was school.“

“Had a bit of bother with one of the others. He started laughing at me so I had to defend myself. We had a bit of a fight.”

“Jasper I do not like fighting.”

“It’s ok mum, I just took a bite at him and he realised that although I have blond hair, I am still one of us. We made it up. You know how it is when you look a bit different.”

Shirley certainly did know how it was to be different, but since living away from home, she had got used to other customs, other places. She had almost forgotten how things were before she met Dreg her husband, although sometimes it was as if it were yesterday.

Shirley was not the prettiest girl in town. She had lovely blond hair, but her nose was a bit on the larger size, and her teeth were perhaps a bit oversized for her mouth. This did not really bother her. She was also very short sighted and from her younger years had to wear strong glasses. She sometimes wished she could be like her sister who seemed to be the complete opposite. Everything was in place on her, the perfect little girl and of course sister Janet grew to be one of the most popular girls, always having some boy in tow. However Janet had a good heart and would often go to town with Shirley. On such occasions Shirley would leave her glasses at home. She had got so used to seeing everything through a haze, she could still find her way around and when Janet was at her side, there was no big problem.

The carnival season was now on the horizon and both Janet and Shirley wanted to go the masked ball. It was such fun dressing up and disguising; the once a year time when Shirley was treated as all the other girls, and did not feel like a human freak. She always chose a mask with a fringe to hide her oversized nose and teeth. She just disappeared at midnight when it was time for everyone to remove their masks and boy and girl to kiss each other. Shirley knew that she would not be wanted as a partner for any boy attending the dance and yes, she was a little ashamed to show her face.

The evening arrived and Janet and Shirley were dressed in their costumes. This year Shirley decided to dress as a devil. She had two small horns peeping out of her blond locks and was dressed in a long black silk gown, her face covered with a half mask. Her sister had decided to be an angel and as angels and devils do not really match they entered the dance hall separately. Janet was soon surrounded by boys all asking for a dance and Shirley sat in a corner with a drink watching the entertainment. That was until a young man came towards her. He also was dressed in a devilish costume, more with the vampire look she thought. His costume was excellent, wearing long false white molars in his mouth and his red eyes peeping through the mask. She thought it is amazing what red tinted contact lines could achieve. His black cloak set the final touch, together with his white powdered face.

“You are looking so attractive in your costume” he said to Shirley, his voice sounding so soft and sexy. “I would be honoured to have the next dance.”

Shirley was so impressed with the “vampire” she immediately accepted. She danced as if in a dream with this young vampire and he held her with his strong arms as she had never been held before. It was not just one dance they danced together, but were in each other’s arms the whole evening, Shirley thinking how lovely it would be if this evening would never end. At midnight a gong sounded and two chairs were put in the middle of the dance hall. Shirley’s stomach did a few turns. The chairs were for the couples, one by one, and how could she remove her mask and show herself to this vampire costume. He was certainly very handsome beneath his costume and she really felt like Cinderella who ran away leaving her glass slipper. Shirley fled from her vampire, but he was close on her heels, seemed to be almost flying through the air, there was no escape.

“Where are you going young devil” he asked.

“I have to be home. I must go” was her answer.

“Have I done something to annoy you?” he asked, “or does the removal of the masks disturb you. If so, please be assured. I also do not want to remove my mask in public. We will leave together and I will walk you home.”

Shirley was as if in a dream and the “vampire” walked her home. The way took them through the park, it was dark and empty. There was no-one there. The vampire kissed her softly on her lips and removed her mask slowly. Shirley tried to put her hand over her face, but the vampire” stopped her.

“You are the most beautiful devil I have ever seen” he said. I will now remove my mask as well, which he did. As Shirley was not wearing her very thick glasses, everything seemed to be in a haze and she saw the outlines of the face of the vampire coming closer. They sunk to the ground in each other’s arms and Shirley spent the most wonderful hour of her life behind a tree in the park.

“I love you devil” the vampire said “you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” Shirley was so happy and she too felt a connection to this strange person. Perhaps strange because he still had his vampire teeth in his mouth, at least she did feel a slight point caressing her lips, but who cared, Shirley was in bliss for the first time in her life.

“I must now leave you” said the vampire, “but I will be back, please do not forget me.”

It seemed to Shirley that she felt the wind rustling in his cloak and then he was gone. No, Shirley did not forget him. Nine months later she gave birth to a beautiful boy and named him Jasper. Of course her parents were not very pleased, but Shirley was happy. True, her baby did resemble her vampire costume and there was talk in the hospital from the doctor that her son Jasper would have to undergo a plastic surgery operation to bring things to order. It seemed that his bloodshot eyes with the dark shadows and the fact that he already had two teeth protruding over the bottom lip should be corrected. Luckily he did inherit the golden hair colour from his mother.

The birth went very well and Shirley was on the way to recovery. One evening in the hospital ward Shirley was having problems falling asleep. For Shirley her son was the most beautiful, but perhaps it was because she did not have her glasses with her. Her mother said she would only lose them in the hospital and kept them at home, although if Shirley had seen the curious glances exchanged between her mother and father, she might have realised that there was a reason why her mother had left the glasses at home.

Suddenly the window to the ward flew open and Shirley heard again that familiar sound of the wind rushing through cloth.

“My devil, I told you I would not desert you. Is that the fruit of our night in the park lying in his bed? Such a beautiful baby, it is a boy.”

“Is it you my vampire. The doctors say that there is something wrong with him and he must be operated, I am so worried. Where have you been?”

Now the person who Shirley only knew as the “vampire” told Shirley the facts.

“Please forgive me for leaving, but I had to return to my planet.”

“Your planet?”

“I am not from earth, but from the planet Vania. Our people often make holiday trips to earth and it was on such a trip that we met. I felt so drawn to you as you sat alone in a corner with you beautiful costume and my elders gave me permission to visit again. I told them what had happened and we had the ability to see from afar that I had become a father. Our people do not desert their women and I am here to take you to my planet with our son. Please say yes.”

Shirley was a little surprised and was not sure whether to believe this. It was then that the “vampire” showed Shirley a photo of his family and she knew that it was the truth.

“My real name is Dreg” said the vampire. “Please come with me to my planet with our son. You will be so happy there.”

Shirley wrote a few words of an explanation in a quick note to her parents.

Dear mum and dad

Jasper’s father has arrived. He lives on another planet and he is taking me to live with him there. I am so happy, please be happy with me. I am sure I will be able to visit you one day.

Shirley

P.S. Please do not worry about my glasses, Dreg, my friend said I will not need them on the planet Vania.

and she was whisked away on that evening to Vania with her son.

All this happened so many years ago. She did have problems getting used to life on Vania. It seemed that when the planet was moonlit, the inhabitants spent the hours awake, going after their work and the children in school. During the time when the three suns were shining they slept in their homes which were underground. Dreg was a wonderful father to Jasper and to their other four children, but it was Jasper that had the blond hair. The other children were more like their father.

So if you think you have seen a vampire, then of course they do not really exist. One of their favourite places for spending holidays was in the Transylvanian mountains as the climate appealed to them.

Click here for more

MULTIPLY The Horror of it All Challenge #5: The Monster of the Lake

The clear full moon reflected on the house and the lake. The crickets were chirping in the long grass, but there was another noise. A dark figure moved from the house towards the Lake. It stepped into the lake making ripples in the water and seemed to be dragging something causing a squelching noise. The crickets were suddenly silent and all could be heard was the water lapping around the dark shape.

*************************

Lily Jenkins had a lot of patience and understanding for her offspring, but now the cup was full. She got used to her son Giles, aged 17, bringing home tadpoles to watch them develop into frogs. After all he was the clever one of the family and she knew he would go a long way. His school was pleased with him and they told Lily that he would definitely be successful in qualifying for the university. He was the born biology expert they said.

Lily was so proud, but she also had a daughter, Barbara, who had decided to change her name and told people to call her Blood. A strange name you might think, but Barbara, or Blood, had decided to become a Goth. You do not know what a Goth is. If you saw Blood you would know. Pierced ears were ok thought her mother. Lily had also had her ears pierced when she was a girl, but it stayed with her ears. Blood had her nose pierced, her eyebrow and the latest her lower lip. Now Lily was becoming quite disturbed. She was used to her daughter wearing black, as a young lady Lily always wore a black dress when she went to a dance, it looked smart and grown up. Blood even had black pyjamas, not really pyjamas, a long gown tied with a deep red curtain sash at the waist. During the day the venue was long black leather boots, a short silk black dress with chains hanging from the material and of course the make-up was also matched. Black painted finger nails and black lipstick. It was perhaps when Blood brought her boyfriend home that Lily’s last nerve was torn. Devil (actually his name was Donald) had a tattoo on the back of his hand. The letters were in black, of course, saying Hell’s Fire, and the background was red flames. Lily also did not like the two eyes tattooed on the back of his neck, they were red. So Lily decided a change of scenery would be the best for her family and it would be good for Giles who could do some learning for his university entrance examinations. The summer holidays were starting in a few weeks and Lily had managed to find a reasonable house to let, in the flat lands, many miles north of the town where she lived.

She was glad the price was reasonable. Although her divorced husband Charlie always paid regularly, Lily liked to be careful with the money. You never knew when Charlie’s new money grabbing wife might make off with his money and then she would have nothing. Blood, also known as Barbara, was not very happy about going away for the summer holidays. She would have preferred a camping holiday with Donald, but this time Lily was adamant.

“No, Barbara, we are going to the flat lands. We even have a boat in the house and it is near to a Lake.”

“But mum, that sucks. Isolated somewhere in the wilds, I bet there is not even a MacDonald’s near bye.”

“I think it’s a good idea mum” said Giles. “Think of the wild life that will be surrounding us. I am sure there will be a few species that I have never been able to observe on the Lake.”

And that was the reaction of the children. Eventually the day came and Blood said goodbye to Devil. They even bought a set of handcuffs and cut them in half. Devil keeping one half around his wrist and Blood the other. Although Lily thought this strange, she supposed it could even be a sort of affection the two had for each other. Blood did look a bit sad when they left and the tear drops even made her black make-up run on her cheeks. Giles was quite happy to go and made a perfect contrast to Blood with his neat white shirt and clean blue jeans.

After a six hour drive the family Jenkins arrived at their holiday home. Lily was thrilled, the house looked so neat and the Lake was just at the bottom of the garden. She had read in the description that there was even an old well down in the cellar and that the kitchen was fully equipped with the most modern gadgets. Lily turned the key in the door and entered.

“Nice place mum” said Giles, “plenty of space and very clean.”

Yes this was true, although Barbara/Blood found it was not her style.

“Hey mum, this place really sucks. Look at the curtains, all flowery and pink.”

Then suddenly Barbara stopped in her tracks.

“Now this looks great mum, real cool, just look. I think I am going to like this place after all.”

When Barbara liked something you could be sure that Lily would not and this was the case.

“What is it Barbara?”

“In the corner of the kitchen there is a trap door, probably leads to the cellar where the well is.”

“Yes, that’s true Barbara, so what is so cool as you say?”

“The trail from the trap door of course; sort of a green slimy path: at last a bit of life in the place.”

Lily looked closer and was not very pleased.

“No Barbara, that is not cool, just dirty. I will mop it up straight away. Go to the cupboard in the kitchen and bring me a mop and pail of water.”

“But mum, I might break my finger nails.”

“Don’t worry Babs,” said Giles, “I will get it for you mum.”

And Lily scrubbed the floor until the green stain disappeared. It was quite a large stain stretching from the trap door to the kitchen door that led into the garden. When she was finished, Lily decided to have a closer look at the well below the trap door in the cellar and the children went with her. They were confronted by an open well. Giles threw a stone into the well and it was some time until they heard a splash at the bottom.

“Hey mum, that is really deep, I wouldn’t like to fall in that one.”

“Barbara, Giles, I would just like to say that you keep away from that well. It really does not look so safe to me.” And so the family Jenkins unpacked their luggage and made themselves comfortable in the house.

After their long journey they were all feeling tired and so retired quite early to bed. The next morning there was a rude awakening when Lily dropped a plate on the stone floor of the kitchen. The children rushed down to the kitchen to see what had happened.

“Just look at that mum, real cool” said Barbara

and the long green slime trail stretched once again from the entrance to the well to the kitchen door.

“I wonder ... you know mum, I thought I heard some sort of dragging noise last night before I went off to sleep.”

“Come to think of it Giles, so did I” answered Barbara.

Lily cleaned away the slime trail once again, but the next morning it was there again, although not so much it seemed. The slime only reached the middle of the kitchen and then it stopped. There were just muddy footprints leading from the end of the slime to the kitchen door. This picture repeated itself for the first week, the slime trail getting smaller all the time, the footprints also slowly disappearing until it stopped completely at the end of the week.

Lily was just a little bit worried about this whole thing, but was sure there was an explanation somewhere. The house being built on damp ground it was probably sinking a bit and these things could happen.

Giles was sure there was a scientific explanation and Barbara/Blood was thrilled. At least there was a bit of excitement in the place. At the end of the week Lily had to go shopping in the near bye village and the children were alone at home.

“Giles, I heard that dragging noise again last night.”

“So did I Barbara, although it didn’t sound as squelchy as at the beginning.”

“I know what you mean Giles. You know what tonight I am going to creep down to the kitchen and see what it is.”

“I will come as well Barbara, you never know. What time shall we meet.”

“Giles, midnight of course. If anything is going to happen it will be midnight.”

And so the brother and sister met at midnight in the kitchen. It was then that they saw the trap door to the well lift slowly and a dark figure climbed out dragging something behind it. Giles was getting ready to run for it, but Barbara pulled him back.

“Oh no, brother heart, we are in this together. Now we will follow the figure.”

It was a full moonlit night and Giles and Barabara followed the dark figure out of the kitchen door into the garden. The figure plodded on and when it reached the lake it disappeared into the waters with a groan.

“What do we do now Barabara?” asked Giles.

“Nothing of course, unless you want to go for a swim. I would say we don’t tell mum anything but tomorrow evening, same place, and same time.”

“But what is it Barbara?”

“I don’t know you’re the brainy one in the family, but I am sure it would be a hit in our Goth club.”

The next evening they met again and the figure reappeared. Giles and Barbara followed it and just before it sank into the Lake it turned on them both and let out a cry. Not very loud, but it was more like a disappointed sob.

“I think it’s crying Giles” said Barbara.

“I am not sure Barbara, it hasn’t got any eyes, looks like a skull to me with a few remnants of flesh.”

“Hey monster, why are you so sad?” Barbara asked, without any fear. It seemed that after a time of being a Goth, I suppose you do get a little immune to shocking figures.

“I am the monster of the Lake and live in the well and I haunt this house. I scare people. I give them nightmares, and now, now ........ What have you done with my green slime trail, I have run out of slime. Even my feet are no longer making prints on the kitchen floor. Oh, woe is me. I have no purpose anymore in my existence. Other spirits are laughing at me.”

“But monsters do not exist” said Giles. “There must be a reason for your appearance every night.”

“Of course there is. I owned the ground on which this house was built. There was another house here many years ago and we got our water from the well. One evening I was returning from the inn, having drunk many measures of mead of course, and I fell in the well with my cat. We were never found and now it is my destiny to walk from the well to the lake every evening and scare all living humans. And what is that at your side. What sort of monster is accompanying you with holes in the ears, eyes and mouth and metal hanging down on the clothes, clanking with ghostly noises. ”

“Hello monster, I like to be called Blood, but my brother always calls me Barbara. I am a Goth. Hey I find you real cool, you would be a hit in our Goth club. What about joining Mr. Monster. What is that you drag with you when you take your evening walk? Looks like a bundle of fur.”

“Oh monster human, that is my cat Black Knight. He fell into the well with me and I am doomed to take him whereever I go.”

“That’s an interesting bone you have with you. Looks like a leg bone. Do you always carry that?”

“Human, on that memorable evening my last meal was roast beef, and this bone was the remainder of my meal.”

“So what are we going to do with you monster. You have no slime any more, and if I know our mum, she will not rest until everything here is spotlessly clean and she will probably decide to put a lid on the well. She is already complaining that it is unhygienic.”

“I am tired of walking from the well to the lake every evening and so is my cat. I have a wish. Let the well in the kitchen be cleaned and the remains of myself and my cat be found, to bury us on sacred ground. I am tired of walking every evening and it would be so good for me to at last lay at rest.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to our Goth club monster.”

“You know human child, being a monster is not always fun. It is tiring.”

So what did Giles and Barbara do? The well was cleaned and explored and yes, the bones of the “monster” and his cat were found and laid to rest at the local cemetery. Barbara was no longer Blood, but became Barbara again. She decided that being a Goth was not as interesting as she first thought. She discarded her piercings and dressed like any normal teenager. She even returned her half of the handcuffs to Devil. And Giles: he passed the entrance examination to university and eventually finished his studies, choosing the occupation of a pathologist.

Lily was proud to have two such good children, even if she did have her doubts. Oh and yes, she enjoyed the holiday so much that she decided to go back the following years. Barbara and Giles always stayed with her for a few days, not forgetting to bring some flowers to a certain grave at the cemetery.

For more click here

MULTIPLY The Horror of it All: Challenge 3-E: The Last Days of the Ghost Train

The ghost train was now in the third generation of the Sade family. As a boy Boris Sade Junior would help his father to assemble the wooden panelling, draped with black cloth, as a background to the frightening exhibits contained inside; the threads of the cobwebs descending just at a distance to brush the heads of the customers travelling below on the railway. Monsters covered with fluorescent paint fixed in alcoves along the way and the last shock of all Vlad, the skeleton that jumped out from the side in front of the railway just before the journey was completed through the dark tunnel. Boris Sade Senior had constructed the lever set into the railway tracks. As the little train drove over this part of the track it released the mechanism and Vlad sprung from the side of the railway. There were shocked screams from the ghost train guests and it seemed that the skeleton would remain rigid and that a collision would be inevitable. There was another lever which pulled the Vlad the skeleton back again just in time for the train to approach the exit with its shocked, but satisfied travellers.

These were the memories that Boris Sade Junior had from the past years. Father Senior had died five years ago and Boris Junior was now in charge of the ghost train, travelling from town to village with the other members of the fair ground. Times were no longer so good. Television and film supplied the thrills of today. The ghost train could not compete with the modern computer programmed horror shocks on film and most of the characters shown were not even real, just holograms, and a ghost train was at a loss to compete with these effects. Then there was the general public. It used to be families with their children, knowing that it was not real what they were experiencing in the dark bends and shadows of the tunnel. It was all part of the fun. If a child did have a shock mummy and daddy would tell them it was not real, and Boris would consol them afterwards with a toffee that he had ready as a small compensation. This was perhaps a publicity trick; the kids would enjoy the rides knowing that there was a reward from the man in charge of the ghost train. He also had the lovers on the ride, but they were not really concerned what was happening. Each shock and noise brought them closer together, and Boris was sure that many a romance was settled on his ghost train.

He sighed, today was different. You only seem to have the lower elements of human nature taking a ride. Gangs of youngsters with no upbringing, known as yobs, would buy their tickets and go for a ride. As they left the ghost train it was normal that they would throw a few cobwebs at Boris which they had torn down from the ceiling. He once even found one of the skeletons with a pot of strawberry jam on its head, the jam dripping down the bony limbs. As the youngsters left they just laughed and told Boris that one of the skeletons was bleeding. Yes, Boris was sad and knew that the times of the Sade Ghost Train experience were coming slowly but surely to an end. He left his place at the cash desk in the evening and returned to his caravan parked near bye.

“What shall I do” he thought “there is no future any more. No respect from the kids, from the teenagers. They just laugh at me and my ghost train. I am sure that Boris Senior would despair at such events.”

“He does my son, he does” said a familiar voice from the shadows of the caravan; from the place where Boris senior would sit in the evening in his chair and count the takings of the day.

“Dad is that you” asked a Boris Junior with a slight tremor in his voice.

“Of course it is son, they told me that you are not getting on so well. Just look over in my direction and you might see me, but don’t touch, you might get a shock. I am a bit transparent.”

Boris looked in the direction of the voice and saw a milky mist gradually taking the form of his beloved and honoured dad, Boris senior.

“Dad, is it really you? It can’t be.”

“Just remain cool son, yes it is me and the spirits have told me that the living show absolutely no respect any more for our work. You know I have quite an important position where I am. I am a sort of recognised expert on the after world.” Boris Senior spoke with pride in his voice. “Just don’t worry Boris Junior and trust me.”

“What shall I do dad, Of course I trust you, but I have no power over the rough youths of today. One even threatened me with a knife last week and said for the rubbish we show it was not worth buying a ticket.”

“I have a plan, confirmed by the fellow spirits, so just follow it. This is the idea.” and the ghost of Boris Sade Senior explained to his son what he should do.

The next evening soon arrived at the fair and the usual group of rough stuff were waiting for their ride on the train and queuing for their entrance.

“How much this time” asked their leader, Gutsy. “You know your ghost train isn’t worth the money we pay. All painted plastic and cotton threads hanging down.”

“Yes you old boy, it’s true” shouted the others in unison. “This evening it’s gonna be free, did you hear? Otherwise we might get a bit rough with you.”

“OK” answered Boris Junior as his dad had advised. Boris Senior said he should let them all have a free ride. It would probably be the last ride that anyone had in the ghost train.

The yobs took over their carriage and Boris Junior sealed the entrance to the railway telling the few other customers that it was now full.

The yobs were really pleased. A free ride and they could do what they wanted. This time they had really had a few good destructive ideas. Gutsy had brought his air gun and was firing at the monsters in the alcoves, knocking their heads off. His groupies were laughing at the good idea and now again threw their empty beer bottles knocking a few bones off from the skeletons standing around. Eventually they arrived towards the end of the journey and as usual the skeleton jumped out from the side blocking the rails, but this time it was not Vlad. No indeed not. It was a fleshless figure of a skeleton carrying a candelabra with four candles which were alight and threw a very ghostly reflection onto the railway, as if water was flowing on the ground. The skeleton was peeping from below a black cloth which served as a head covering.

“Now look at that” said Gutsy “anyone frightened; looks like the ghost train driver has thought up something new.”

“Nah, don’t think so” answered one of the others. “Probably had to replace it after you knocked it down the last time and this is all he came up with.”

“Well that don’t frighten me” said Gutsy “and before he disappears again I will take a shot at him with the air gun.”

No, the skeleton with the candelabra did not disappear, he stood there, and Gutsy’s shot did not hit it. On the contrary, the railway carriage burst into flames ignited from the candles it was carrying. As the train carriage burst through the exit doors of the ghost train it contained the yobs burning and screaming, it left the tunnel on fire.

For More click here

MULTIPLY The Horror of it All #3-D: Witches?

Having long red hair is not always an advantage and it was one of the first things she noticed in her life. As a child she soon got the nickname Red Sally from her friends and even her mother seemed to push her to one side. It was always her sister that was preferred.

“Why can’t you be like your sister Betsy. She is always so helpful with the housework. You seem to spend more time day dreaming than doing something constructive” were the words she always heard. No, growing up life was not ideal, but in the middle ages you respected your parents and did what they said. That was another problem; it did seem that Sally’s father Noah would avoid her. She once overheard a conversation between him and her mother.

“There is definitely something wrong with that girl” said Noah. “First of all there is no-one with red hair amongst us. The only person I ever saw with that colour hair was the pot seller that visits the village once a year. She bears no resemblance to anyone on your side of the family, or on mine.”

“I suppose it is just one of those things that happens in nature. Polly Peckham always had nice white sheep on the meadow and suddenly she had a black one. Now who knows where that came from?”

“If you ask me there is something in this witchcraft talk. It just isn’t natural” answered Noah.

Being a witch in those days was dangerous. Just the thought was bad enough. Sally was almost sure she was not a witch, or was she. She remembered when Judith, one of the girls in the village, chased her into the woods and threw mud at her and the other village children just laughed and enjoyed the fun. Sally felt so annoyed, she just wished that Judith was dead. The next day they found Judith’s body floating in the stream. It was an accident of course, although Sally did have a funny feeling in her stomach. After a while she found that life was more peaceful without Judith, and the other village children seemed to keep their distance.

Sally also had a strange idea about the pot seller. Every time he visited the village to sell his goods, he always seemed to spend more time at her house. Her mother would send her off into the woods to collect berries and told her to take her time. When she returned to the hut where they lived the pot seller was gone. As Sally got older she realised she did bear a strong resemblance to the pot seller.

As the years went by Sally grew into an attractive woman, although was still avoided by most of the village population. It was only the visiting folk or gypsies that took an interest in the red Sally. Her parents died, her sister married and Sally stayed in the house. One day she was in her garden when a small kitten suddenly appeared and looked at Sally with such longing eyes. He was so black, that it would be difficult to find him at night, but Sally decided it would be company. She fed him and gave him a nice comfortable place to sleep. She realised that black cats were not looked upon as the ideal pet, witches always had black cats, but she decided as she was already avoided by most of the villagers, having a black cat would not make things any worse.

She gave the name Black Beauty to the cat and with time noticed that the cat would never leave her. Where Sally went, Black Beauty was not far behind her. One day she met Polly Peckham in the village but as she walked past Sally, Polly spit on the ground. Before Sally could say something Black Beauty jumped up on Polly and scratched her hand drawing blood.

“Witch” Polly called “you should be burnt with your cat.” And she walked on.

“May your milk turn sour” shouted Sally to Polly and she went home, still shaking with fright and anger.

The next morning there was a hammering on Sally’s door.

“Open in the name of the sheriff” she heard.

She opened the door and before she could run away her hands were put in irons and a leather band was tied around her neck by which she was pulled along. The sheriff was standing at the door and he was known for not messing around with witches. You only had to mention the word and he was ready for a burning.

“Sally Hobbs I arrest you in the name of the law for witchery. You will be tried tomorrow and when found guilty will received your just punishment.”

Sally was then pulled into a cart and brought to the local jail. Black Beauty, her cat, tried to run away, but was also caught and put into a small cage which was also brought to the prison. Black Beauty barred his teeth and flashed his yellow eyes and spit but there was no escaping. It seemed to Sally that he had turned into a wild beast.

On the day of the trial all villagers were present; some out of curiosity and others because they were convinced that the red Sally was a witch.

Polly Peckham entered the witness stand and repeated the curse that Sally showered upon her that her milk should turn sauer.

“And did it turn sauer Mistress Peckham” asked the judge.

“Oh yes, sir” she answered “as soon as I got home I had a look, as I was sure that red Sally was a witch, and there it was, as sauer as it could be. That woman is definitely a witch. And her cat scratched my hand look your honour. It still hasn’t healed.”

“Burn the witch, burn the witch” shouted the villagers in the court.

“Silence” called the judge “based on the evidence of Mistress Peckham I find Sally Hobbs guilty of witchery and she will be burnt at the stake tomorrow evening with her bedevilled cat.”

“This is not a fair trial” screamed out Sally, but to no avail. She was taken away from the court and locked in a cage, not a cell, to await her punishment. Her cat was in a cage next to hers.

“Have no fear Sally” he said to her.

“Did you speak, then you are bewitched.”

“Sally we are few cats that are really bewitched as you say. We are always on the search for a witch that will look after us. You know the truth Sally, you are a witch.”

“I am a witch! Things do sometimes happen that I cannot explain, yes, but I do not feel evil.”

“No, you are not evil; you are just on the dark side of life, like me. Do not fear, after the fire you will be cleansed. You will not die, and neither will I."

The next day Sally was tied to a stake on top of the wood pile with her caged cat next to her and it was ignited. She was frightened, very frightened, but her cat said nothing and just stared ahead. An hour later it was over, and the charred remains of the cat and Sally were thrown into the local cesspit.

If people had not been so busy watching the burning and the removal of the bones afterwards, they might have seen something red leaving the burnt remains of the wood, not just red, but glowing. It ran away, but it was seen again a week later. There was a fire in the village and Polly Peckham’s house burnt down. Her complete family were there, her husband and two children. They were sleeping when it happed and there were no survivors.

Some villagers that were called to extinguish the fire saw a glowing red cat sitting in the still smouldering timbers of the remains of the house, surrounded by smoke and flames, but it seemed to have no effect on the cat. The villagers poured water on the fire, although it was already too late, and the cat disappeared.

Many fires occurred in the village and each time the cat was seen. Sometime later the village was deserted. People no longer wanted to live there; the rumour was that it was haunted by a fire monster.

Click here for more

MULTIPLY Time for Yourself #2: Washing Night

Using the washing machines in an apartment block at night had one big advantage. You could wash until your heart was content. You were alone and nobody saw what was going into the machine. Mable Andrews was glad about this. She wanted to keep her private life to herself and there was nothing worse than having unwanted noses poking into the details of your underwear.

This evening was a special washing evening, not only because of the private wash, but she had changed the sheets on the bed and that was particularly private. She opened the glass door of the machine and started to push the sheets in, carefully one after the other to make sure that they would wash properly. She hated stains and these sheets did have a few stains that had to be removed. It was then that she heard a noise; someone was descending the stairs to the cellar. Now this was something she could do without. She hurriedly pushed the remains of the wash into the machine, the pillow covers, and slammed the glass door.

“Evening Mrs. Andrews” said a deep male voice and Donald Doom entered the washing room. “Making use of the cheaper electricity rates with the night washing?”

Mable thought to herself it was none of his business, but decided to give a friendly answer. She really did not want give Mr. Doom a negative impression at this time in the evening.

“Well it is certainly an advantage Mr. Doom. I see you also have quite a bit of washing to do so late in the evening.”

“One of the disadvantages of having small children; since little Jimmy arrived a month ago, we have baby wash again: diapers, bibs and all that babies need during the day. Sometimes our little Jimmy gets through three baby pyjamas in one day. The other two children are just as bad, so I help the missus out with the washing now and again. Having a growing family, we are glad to save on the electricity where we can.”

Mable knew too well the noisy Doom family. The crying of the baby, the screaming of the other children and the shouts of the parents, coupled with the loud laughing she sometimes heard from their apartment. “People like that should be sterilised at birth” she thought to herself. “I will be glad when I am out of here.” No, Mable was not a happy person.

She put the washing powder into her machine, switched it on and the washing drum started filling with water and churning. It would be a long wash, more than an hour, but it was the strongest wash you could apply which was necessary. Mable had other things to do in her apartment while the machine was running.

“Have a nice evening Mr. Doom” she said and returned to her apartment.

She was glad to get home again as there was work to do. She decided first of all to clean up the bedroom. It was then that she noticed the stain on the mattress, so she got some hot soapy water from the kitchen and a brush and started scrubbing. Luckily the stain was fresh so she managed to remove it, although she had to work on it at least half an hour. Of course the mattress was now damp and a night’s sleep here was out of the question, but that did not really bother her. If she ever did sleep this night, she would move out into the living room and sleep on the settee.

Now she really had to get down to work. Her husband’s corpse still had to be removed. She had distributed it in a few large plastic bags and decided to put them in the containers outside of the building where she lived. She hoped in the meanwhile that Donald Doom had returned to his apartment as that was the last person she wanted to meet. After a few journeys to the elevator everything was removed. Mable was a woman on the heavier side, some might say she had weight problems, but she was convinced she was just heavy built. She was glad that her late husband, Cedric, was on the slim side. It made things a lot easier when disposing of his remains.

It was just too stupid that he did not die immediately. She saw a film once where a murder was done with a baseball bat, so she decided that would be the best method. She could burn the weapon afterwards in the furnace in the basement and there would be no evidence. It was just bad luck that he awoke from his sleep and grabbed her necklace with his hand as a last effort to fight back. It was then that she gave the last blow but the necklace was torn from her neck and was held firmly in his fist. She tried, she really tried to release it from his clutches, but it was just not possible. There was no other choice but to get the garden scissors and remove the fingers that were holding it in their grasp. At last she retrieved the necklace. You never know. If the body parts are found, that would be definite proof that Mable would be responsible.

Mable now began with the heavy work and after an hour everything was removed from the apartment. The next day was the garbage collection, and Cedric would no longer exist. His remains would be in various different places. She would tell people that he was visiting his mother who lived in another part of the country. With time she would move and would drift into the anonymity that surrounded such travellers as herself. Why did she do it? She did not really know and it did not interest her. It seemed that after a time she was bored with routine and wanted to start anew.

Mable was just settling down to her well deserved sleep when she heard the noise of fire engines. “Was there a fire somewhere?” She looked out of the window and saw the vehicles arrive at her building, but there was no smoke. They were not unpacking their hoses, but were organising their pump. Her curiosity got the better of her, so she decided to explore and met Donald Doom and his wife at the entrance to the building.

“Has something happened?” Mable asked.

“It certainly has” answered Donald. “I went to the washing room to see how the washing was going and the place was flooded. It seems that the drain taking the water from the machines was blocked. I had to call the fire department and now they are working on the case.”

Mable descended the stairs to see how it looked. It was not a pretty site; the washing room had at least half an inch of red water covering the floor. Mable was very concerned about this, but she could perhaps blame it onto the Dooms and their children who had probably been painting with their finger paints and rubbed it off onto their clothes.

With this excuse she might have got away with it all, if they had not found that the cause of the blockage in the draining system was the top part of a finger which had once belonged to Cedric Andrews.

For more click here

MULTIPLY The Horror of It All #1: Give me a Helping Hand

„Ok, Mr. Granger, I think that will be all for now. I have explained how the generator works for the electricity and don’t forget from nine in the evening there is no electricity, but only candlelight. The cottage is so old that it wasn’t possible to make a better connection” and with that last comment Reggie Makepeace left the Grangers on their own and returned to the farmhouse where he and his wife lived.

He met his wife busy preparing lunch in the kitchen.

“Smells good Mary, what’s for lunch?”

“Today it’s a stew with dumplings, just the way you like them Reggie; by the way how are the Grangers settling in at the cottage?”

“Fine Mary, they seem to have the hang of the generator and the fact that they have no electric in the evening doesn’t seem to bother them.”

“Did you tell them about.....”

“Mary, don’t start getting worried. They will be ok in the cottage. Mr. Granger wanted somewhere where he can finish writing his book and his wife is happy to be in the country taking in the fresh air. They live in the town and are glad to have a change of scenery.”

“You mean you didn’t tell them.”

“There is nothing to tell Mary. I am sure they will enjoy the next couple of weeks living in the cottage with no problems.”

“Yes, but you remember what happened the last time we rented the cottage.”

“Nothing happened Mary. They were just a couple that did not like life out in the country. Why his wife did a jump every time she saw a spider. Now where do you find a cottage here without spiders? No, I think this time the Grangers will enjoy their stay here. And now, I am hungry, so where’s dinner?”

Mary Makepeace had finished cooking the meal and her and her husband sat down to lunch, although she still had some doubtful thoughts.

Meanwhile back at the cottage Margaret and Clive Granger were unpacking and making themselves at home in the cottage.

“We were really lucky to find this cottage Clive, it was so reasonable and in such a nice place. When you look out of the window you just see miles of farmland, not a house in sight.”

“I suppose you are right Margaret, but we are really isolated here. If anything happened we would need at least ten minutes to get to the farmhouse where Mr. and Mrs. Makepeace live.”

“But just think Clive, at last you have the peace and quiet you need to finish your book and I can catch up on some knitting and reading. This is really a good place to relax. At last a few weeks away from the noise and stress of the town.”

It seems that everyone was happy. Even the electric problem did not bother them too much. There were enough candles inthe cottage and Margaret thought how romantic it would be in the evening, her reading by candlelight and Clive writing even if he was using the computer, but with the battieries. She did not even mind being without the generator in the evening. The noise went unnoticed during the day, but she was sure it would be an annoyance at night. At the point of nine in the evening the generator noise ceased and all was silent in the cottage.

“Clive can you give me a match to light the candle” and a hand reached out to Margaret with a match.

“Thank you Clive” she said

“For what Margaret?” was the answer

“Why for the match of course dear.”

“I didn’t give you a match. As a matter of fact I was on the toilet if you must know.”

“Well someone gave me a match. Although it was a bit dark in here I definitely saw a hand giving me a match.

“Must be imagining things Margaret; been reading those mystery books again?"

Margaret decided to say no more. She was sure that Clive had handed her a match, but on the other hand she was tired as it had been a long day.

“Clive I think I will go to bed. Can you give me that candle that I can find my way up the stairs to the bedroom?”

“No problem dear, and she had the lit candle in the holder and carried it up to the bedroom.”

“Just a minute dear, where did you get that candle from?”

“Now you really are dreaming Clive, you gave it to me” and so Clive had to think things over a bit. He did not remember giving Margaret the candle but was too was tired, the light on the computer was not so strong when it was running on the storage battery. His eyes were burning and he decided it was really time for a sleep.

They were both exhausted and as soon as their heads hit the pillow they were both asleep; at least they slept for an hour and then it started. Margaret felt her cover being pulled from the bed and managed to retrieve it before it uncovered her completely.

“Clive what are you doing. I thought we both decided we were too tired for doing anything except for sleep tonight, tomorrow is another day.”

“What are you saying Margaret. Now I'm awake. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is you Clive not being able to keep your hands away from the bed cover and me.”

“Come on Margaret, there was I in a deep sleep and you say I am up to all sorts of tricks. At the moment the flesh is willing but the mind is weak if you must know.”

“But Clive look my bed cover is moving away and you are pulling it.”

“No, just a minute, look Margaret. Here are my hands, each one with ten fingers and they are attached to my arms on the bed cover.”

and it was then that Margaret screamed. A very loud scream and Clive jumped out of bed.

“What is the matter Margaret?”

“Clive, look, my bed cover.”

“Yes will it does look a bit strange sort of being dragged across the floor by an unseen hand. Let’s light a candle to see what is going on.”

Clive took the candle and was searching for the matches when a lighted match was placed in his hand.

“Margaret, you are on the other side of the room.”

“Yes Clive, and I am not moving until you tell me why my bed cover is being dragged over the floor by a hand.”

“Then you did not give me the lighted match for the candle.”

“No Clive, I gave you nothing, I was too busy screaming.”

Needless to say Clive and Margaret spent the rest of the night in their car which was parked on the road leading to the cottage.

The next morning Reggie and Mary Makepeace heard a knock at their door. When they opened it they saw Clive and Margaret Granger standing there.

“Good morning Mr. Makepeace” Clive said “I am afraid my wife and I will have to leave your cottage and return to town.”

“No problems with the cottage I hope Mr. Granger.”

“No, no.... it’s just that my wife’s mother is in hospital and we must return immediately.”

“I hope nothing serious Mrs. Granger.”

Margaret answered that it was an inflamed appendix and her mother had to have it removed. Nothing dramatic, but she would rather be at her mother’s side for such a problem. Actually Margaret’s mother had died ten years ago, but Mr. and Mrs. Makepeace did not have to know that and so the Grangers left.

“I told you Reggie” said Mary Makepeace “they found it out.”

“Found what out woman?”

“What all the others found out that stayed in the cottage before and left on the next day.”

“Forget it Mary. We have now got the money for two weeks rent again and I am sure they won’t ask for a refund. No-one ever does.”

“Yes Reggie, but it’s not right really, is it?”

Reggie supposed not, but you do not have to say everything. Of course if people knew that the cottage had been built by the original owner of the farm Geoffrey Makepeace, an ancestor of Reggie Makepeace, as a place for his son Jonas to live, things might have been clearer, but there are some things that should be kept as a secret. Jonas was born without hands. Now how can you have an heir without hands? In those days it was a disgrace; so Jonas was hidden in the cottage. If Clive and Margaret Granger had taken the effort to go to the local library and read in the old newspapers of the last century they would have read of the unexplained disappearance of young men and male children at the time of Jonas’s childhood and if someone had done some digging in the shed where the generator was they might have found some skeletons with the hand bones missing. If someone had dug further then a casket would have been brought to light with the bones of the missing hands. Yes, Geoffrey Makepeace never did find out how to attach the hands on Jack’s arms.

For more click here