In the morning

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In the morning her hair had turned white. She didn’t know why. It had been a normal evening, nothing out of the ordinary. Bed at a reasonable time. Nothing had woken her until her normal waking time at 7am.

And yet, her hair had turned white overnight? It was meant to happen if you were scared or had a shock. Something she never understood as there is no blood supply to hair. It’s dead, it’s colour is created as it grows and as you get older grey or white hair gradually takes over. But overnight? What could have happened?

She had had a shower…… Oh.. …

Peroxide! She had used the wrong shampoo. Her daughter used it normally…. .

Eye don’t know…

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Something appeared on the cliffs above the village that night, but no one saw it till much later.

The wedding had gone well and the happy couple were now on their way to catch a plane to their honeymoon destination. The rest of the party were sleeping the evening off either in the hotels 6 guest rooms, or in the two bed and breakfasts in the old harbour.

Half of the village had been invited and were now dreaming of the festivities while the other half were either too young or too elderly to have gone.

A dark figure, about eight foot wide, was shambling along the path down from the cliff. It’s movements were jerky, like an accordion being played, several legs moved in a strange caterpillar like rhythm and gleaming eyes looked out in long rows along its sides.

Most peculiar of all was its gaping mouth. This was filled not with teeth, but with arm like protruberances which ended in long thin suckes. Each of about twenty arms could reach out of its mouth to either lift or pull objects. They were also able to grasp things and pull them inside the thing.

A feral cat was stalking a mouse as the strange being came round a corner of the pathway. The alien seized the cat with one of its suckers and pulled it into its mouth which snapped with an audible crunch as it closed.

As the light came again to the village open doors greeted the dawn. Most were torn from their hinges. Others wear ripped apart as if a chain saw had cut through them.

Of the villagers there was no sign, the guests who had come down from towns and cities were gone. There were strange gouged marks on the roadway leading to the harbour wall, but no sign of life. Even the sea birds had gone.

Only the lighthouse keeper further up the valley had seen something glowing and gleaming in the dark, but he was saying nothing.

(I seem to be writing more of these, I’m trying to work out how to describe things. To make up a story that is slightly different, not too derivative?) all writing and art copyright Christine Mallaband-Brown 2019.

In the Dark (part four)

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I had got to the front door and was trying to unlock it when he caught me. I squirmed out of his grip and opened the door, feeling myself falling down the front step. My arm was yanked back in its socket as he gripped my wrist but I slammed the door on him. I felt his nails scratch me as he clawed at my trailing hand…

Out, I was out, back in the cold dark street. Into the car, fumbling at the lock. He was not following? Something to do with the street lights?

I revved the engine and put it in gear. Where to go so late? All my friends would have gone to bed. My sister? She lived miles away. Far enough away to be safe from him.

I drove out of town, into the dark of the countryside. The street lights dwindled and I drove along, marvelling at my night vision. Normally I struggled to see but tonight? There must be a full moon.

My hand itched where he had scratched me…..

I could not seem to concentrate and sweat dropped into my eyes. The heater was on full blast so I turned it down.

Now I was close to my sisters home. I drove into her street. The lights were out but I have a spare key.

I looked in the mirror to tidy myself up. Golden eyes glowed back at me… My eyes…. And I was suddenly very very hungry……

 

The End

In the dark (part three)

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I had walked into my bedroom and seen the shadowy figure of my partner sitting in a chair by the window. I tried to see his face but the full moon in the window behind him cast darkness across his face.

“What’s up with the lights?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

“I took out the bulbs” he replied..

That was something I had not thought of. “Why?”

“I need the dark” was all he would say.

I felt the chill air seeping into my body, something was wrong with the heating, it had been playing up before I went out to choir practice. Now it was as cold inside as it had been out in the night.

“It’s cold” I said simply. “Do you want a coffee?”

“No”

I was getting worried and scared, Henri was usually a happy, talkative man. His manner now was just not like him.

“I’m going downstairs” I said,

“No” again..

“Well this is stupid” I started to edge towards the door.

Then he opened his eyes….they were glowing gold….

I ran. Down the stairs, tripping and falling but catching the bannister I managed to halt myself. I felt a bone crack in one of my fingers, but I found I felt no pain, I just wanted to get out. Get back in the car, get away……

(To be continued…..?)

Grey brown and blue

Your bricks and windows are staring down at me,

a cold wind picks up the few scattered leaves that have invaded the space.

As the sun sets the air glows frozen grey blue,

Pouring cold into green grey tarmac surrounded by factory buildings.

Water droplets frost the car windscreens sitting on the parking lot,

“We are watching you” you seem to whisper, and, I look up to see what may be there.

But just blank and broken windows look back in a long black stare.

Getting in my car I carefully wash away the mist, old buddlea branches scraping the paintwork,

left and left again, into the street, and away from old creeping ghosts and memories of Clay.

Limelight

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The lights go down

You step forward,

Spotlight

Suddenly a figure in black enters

Stage left,

A glint of metal

An arm raised

Bang bang your dead?

End of act one…..

 

Hint of mist,

Haze of fog,

Gravestone centre stage,

Hush falls over the audience,

The earth in the grave tumbles,

Slips

Fingers push upwards,

A hand raised up,

Blackened nails stretch out

Through a solid stage?!

 

 

🦇?

You know it’s getting towards Halloween when your local garden centre cafe is decorated in signs like these and stick on blood splattered hand prints, witches and ghostly sheet covered apparitions (why a ghost would wear a sheet defies explanation) .

There’s a couple of places round here that may be haunted. One is the Leopard Hotel in Burslem, Stoke-on-Trent.. This old Inn and hotel has even appeared on Britain’s most haunted. It is said to have Ghostly apparitions. I know they do ghost walks around the upper floors. I must go again.

The other place you may find a Ghost is Little Moreton, owned by the National Trust. This is an Elizabethan Hall out on the border between Staffordshire and Cheshire on the A34 Road. It’s an amazing building with a timber frame. There is a long gallery upstairs, and a few eerie corners, and dark places which feel spooky.

One thing we have seen recently are small bat’s 🦇 flitting about in the 🌆 dusk. They come round the back of our house because we have a pond. We have also seen them on the canal at Etruria and also up behind penkhull village hall. I don’t know if they hibernate in the winter or just stay dormant but they are probably feeding themselves up to survive the cold months.