Summerhouse

Could only find a shed in free pictures…

This is my second short story on a spooky theme to be read out with my writers group at Halloween x

I’ve been watching the summerhouse for a few days. I thought I saw someone inside it. I can see it from the kitchen window, the one on the side of the house, a small square piece of glass. 

It overlooks the main garden and is where I have my cctv camera. Last night the camera beeped. I looked at the recording, but it was just a moth, fluttering in front of the camera. 

This morning I went out to look at the Summerhouse, but it was still padlocked, the windows are OK and apart from some ivy growing up the side everything seems fine. 

I’m loathe to walk in the garden. I have to use a stick and I’m a bit unsteady on my feet. There’s a wobbly step to negotiate and it makes me nervous. 

Anyway that was a few weeks ago. I’ve not seen anything recently. But the cctv has been quiet, apart from recording falling leaves. It’s almost autumn and the nights are getting colder. 

I still look out at the summerhouse, it’s more visible now the branches are losing their firey burden. Sometimes I see shadows, but I think it’s the way the sunlight filters through the undergrowth. 

2am, the milkman just delivered my milk, he always moves my bin to put it over the gate. It’s too late to go out now and it’s a bit frosty so I’ll wait till morning. 

I woke up a few minutes ago, there was another noise, I think the bin was moved again? It sits in front of my gate which has the basket for the milk bottles on the back… I’m not going out…. 

Now it’s morning. The milk was still there – gate still padlocked – but could someone have climbed over? 

I put my shoes on. It’s frosty out here 

I’m recording this on my phone – I want to take photos if I need to. Don’t trip over, I’ve got my walking stick…. I should be OK…. 

There IS something in the summerhouse! 

A dark shape. I can see eyes glinting in the dawn light. My chest feels tight, my pulse is racing. What the HELL IS THAT? 

Mrs Smiths phone was found by her corpse Sir. She seems to have come out looking for something or someone. She seems to have had a seizure, could be hypothermia? The Summerhouse is empty and there is no sign of forced entry. The backdoor of her house was locked from the outside we think, she had the key. The death was recorded as unexplained

Moonlight

A short story.

I joined a writing group recently and this is one of my first stories.

Moonlight 

In the past the shadow of Earth would gradually spread across the Moon. Time for mayhem, time for fear. 

But these days people don’t consider the changes that could happen during full moons, or even more so – a lunar eclipse. 

Blood red Moon due. The TV news channels were full of it. The weather man explained when you could see it. Start at 2.32am, mid eclipse 4.17am, and the end at 6.23am. If there was a clear sky people would go out and look. In the dark of the night they would dress up warmly ad try and watch the marvellous sky borne event. 

But in the dark things were scampering, hiding close by, hidden in trees and bushes and tall grassland. Things that changed at the full moon, ready to capture and ensnare. The blackness of night was increased during the full eclipse, when the brilliant moon was dimmed. 

It was 3am and she decided to view this lunar delight. A flask of tea, a warm coat and scarf. Strong shoes to stop her turning an ankle in the tussocky grass….. A good torch with new batteries. Out of the back door-

Out the gate and into the alleyway…. She moved through the misty air. Feet slipping on the frosty ground. 

Down the path into the feild edges. She was watching where her feet fell but chanced a quick glance up. The moon was pinkish, a darker shadow on one side.

As she walked she heard shuffling sounds in the grass. But she took no notice, probably a cat? Out into the main feild. 

Quietness. The eclipse was doing it’s thing, gradually reddening. A blush on the lunar surface. Moonlight but crimson. Like blood.

She sat on a wooden bench and poured herself a cup of tea, strong no sugar. Sipping it she tried to sit comfortably, head up, neck cranking to get a good view through the entangled tree branches. SNAP! atwig crunched. Turning her she saw a glimpse. A Werewolfs smile….. 

(I’m going to read this out at a local event. Wish me luck!)

Red Moonlight

A story written for a prompt “moonlight” for a writing group I’ve joined.

In the past the shadow of Earth would gradually spread across the face of the Moon, it was time for mayhem, time for fear.

But these days people don’t consider the changes that could happen during full moon, or even more so – a lunar eclipse.

Blood red moon due. The TV news channels were full of it. The weather man explained when you could see it. Start at 2.32am, mid eclipse 4.17am, and the end at 6.23 am.

If there was a clear sky people would go out and look. In the dark of the night they would dress up warmly and try and the marvellous sky bourne event.

But in the dark things were scampering, hiding close by, hidden in trees and bushes and tall grassland. Things that changed at the full moon, ready to capture and ensnare. The blackness of night was increased during the full eclipse, when the brilliant moon was dimmed.

It was 3am when she decided to view this lunar delight. A flask of tea, a warm coat and scarf, strong shoes to stop her turning her ankle in the tussocky grass…… A good torch with new batteries. Out the back door- out the gate and into the alleyway… She moved through the misery air. Feet slipping on the frosty ground. Down the path into the feild edges. She was watching where her feet fell but chanced a quick glance upwards. The moon was pinkish, a darker shadow to one side.

As she walked she heard shuffling sounds in the grass. But she took no notice. Out into the main feild. Quietness. The eclipse was doing it’s thing gradually reddening. A blush on the lunar surface. Moonlight but crimson, like blood.

She sat on a wooden bench and poured herself a cup of tea. Strong, no sugar. Sipping it she tried to sit comfortably, head up, neck craning to get a good view through entangled tree branches. ‘Snap’ a twig crunched. Turning her head she saw a glimpse. A WEREWOLF’s Smile…..

Heart

‘I still keep seeing hearts, and it makes me feel like smiling when I do’, she said.

It was over a year since he’d gone, she realised, and things had been hard. They hadn’t discussed anything, it was so unexpected.

About a week after he had died she found a pink, heart shaped petal on her pillow, she had left the window open for some fresh air and it had just appeared, probably on a gust of wind.

She spoke to her sister again. ‘it seems to happen about once a week, I will spot a heart shape somewhere. Daft things like a bubble in the bread was a little heart, heart shaped crisps, presents with them as decorations, stones on the beach, it just keeps happening’.

She remembered the heart shaped cloud that had floated over the house for an hour, just above his shed. Above where he had worked on his bikes and train sets. She knew he was still with her, keeping an eye on her. Maybe one day they would be back together.

Halloween

I saw a weird thing tonight, I walked past a field and I saw, I think I saw? All the pumpkins were still in the field, but already carved. Each had a grotesque face, and light flickering within them. But the stems were still attached and no smoke or burning smells? Very odd.

Its Halloween and I felt crrreeeped out, but an hour later I quietly walked back. I had to know what was going on. It was only when I was on the path and walking in the opposite direction I saw what I’d missed before….

The sign saying

“Ready carved pumpkins, let us do the work, you take the credit” and “tealights included”.

I wished I’d gone to bed!

Olympics

She wasn’t going to watch the Olympics in Paris, it was on the TV but she knew if she watched her countries athletes they would lose.

In the last games she had watched assiduously and each and every player had come to grief. The swimmer hit her head on the wall as she tried to tumble turn. The cyclist had a puncture, the gymnast got tangled up in the rings. No she could not watch.

But then, the first days results were on the news. There were mishaps galore. Maybe it wasn’t her mental influence that was causing disasters? She realised she should watch, and enjoy. She didn’t realise that it was an alien who had infiltrated her countries team. Until he left they were jinxed. He was investigating the emotion despair and this was merely a scientific experiment for him.

Drip..

The car doors are closed, the windows are up, the air vents are off… But I feel a drip of water on my hand, a tiny spot, a speck… But I don’t understand? How did it happen. I could really feel it. So how. I think it came through the windscreen. … Through, like there was no glass. I hadn’t coughed or sneezed? Then a few seconds later… Drip, I lift my hand from the steering wheel. There is a definite droplet of water, rapidly shrinking on my hand. What is going on..

Then it happened, a WAVE, crashing through the car, but the glass was solid. It was like being in a goldfish bowl. I skidded to a halt and pushed the drivers door open. I was safe, the water evaporated. What would happen next?

I don’t know this world I am in, the place is strange, surviving is becoming difficult. Odd things happen. Last week a glacier appeared then snapped out of existence as I slammed my brakes on.

I’m giving up this job, continuum deliveries has just lost their driver!

Quizzical

What’s happening? She thought. A noise murmured in the night, voices whispering, almost below the level of hearing. Then… A tapping noise, but quietly, hidden.

In the morning, on the little footstool, a small pair of red shoes, deftly tacked together, leather and small nails and stitching. Where had they come from…?

That night she tried to stay awake, ears straining. She let her eyes get used to the dark. She saw, a tiny old man, an elf? sitting on the footstool. There was a shoe last in front of him. He was expertly turning blue leather around the last. In a few minutes a new left shoe was finished. It shone like sky blue. He laid it down and created a second shoe, righthanded, crystal blue as was the first.

The girl sat back, she was entranced, impressed by the skill of the tiny fairie. She fell asleep in wonderment and amazement. In the morning the blue shoes sat proudly on the footstool, a label pinned to them. ‘for Lucy, with love, we shall not visit again’. She never wore the shoes.

Medusa

Medusa sat and waited, it had been years since a human had visited her caves and she was simmering with anger. People had been told to keep away. They knew she was dangerous, no one that came into her lair ever escaped. She was surrounded by cowering statues that had looked at her face surrounded by writhing snakes and had turned to stone. She chuckled to herself as she heard echoing footsteps in the antechamber. Her next victim, probably a man, was on his way.

A glimmer of light struck the rocky walls. The man was carrying a flaming torch. All the better for her, the light would shine in her eyes and make her more visible. The slithering snakes were writhing in anticipation. A broad grin spread across her face. ‘Soon’ she whispered to herself.

A shield was the first thing she noticed as the man edged around the corner. He held it high to hide his face and literally shield his eyes. Then she saw her own reflection. Before she could breathe, whimper or scream the spell caught her. Ancient flesh transformed into stone. Persius was victorious, Medusa was lost, into infinity.