Creepy Samples Offering: Curse of the Cat Graveyard

 Hello followers and readers! We have reached the end of July, That means it must be time for another Creepy Samples Offering, and I'm pleased to present it to you.

Today's piece comes from a story entitled "Curse of the Cat Graveyard. There is little need for an explanation this time around as this sampling unfolds at the beginning of the story and continues until I leave off. So, enjoy!

A hearty flame burned in the fireplace, taking the chill out of the room even as newly fallen leaves

swirled in the autumn breeze outside the cottage. The old witch lovingly pet the large black cat that rested

on her lap. The woman sighed as she gazed upon the gray patches of fur that lined the face of her familiar.

“Well, Sabrina,” she began, “we've come a long way together, you and me. Why, I can still remember

the day you were born. You came into the world black as the night; even though that wasn't the case with

your mama or your brothers and sisters.”

Sabrina purred as the witch continued her ministrations, soothing her aching body.

“Yep,” she continued, “I knew you were special before you even opened your eyes--that you had

power. I knew we were destined to be together—to work together. That was 'bout 23 years ago, and I've

never regretted a minute of it; not a second. But look at you now. You're hurtin', little girl. I know you're

puttin' on a brave face, but I know you're suffering. You ain't been eatin' no more, not hardly drinkin'

neither. I reckon we've come to that time we'd hoped would never arrive.”

Sabrina lifted her weary head and gazed into the old woman's eyes. Even as she lay on her deathbed,

her emerald-green eyes gazed into the witch's dark soul.

Oh yes, those eyes! the woman thought to herself. Even now as you lie on death's door they speak of

your power.

“Well, I s'pose we might as well get on with it,” she said aloud as she gently placed her nearly helpless

companion on the comfortable foot cushion situated directly in front of her. “I'd best go make the

preparation. Don't worry, darlin'. It'll be pleasurable.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she went to mix the

potion.

“It'll be mixed in with a treat you always wanted but didn't get much of; some real tasty,

unpasteurized milk. It'll send you straight to kitty paradise.”

Sabrina knew instinctively that she was living her last moments. Her perceptions had always been

impeccable. That's why Fiona had always enjoyed working magically with her. They'd made a great team.

A few minutes later Fiona returned from the kitchen, carrying a small bowl of what appeared to be

plain milk and a syringe. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “This here will put you to sleep gently, my dear.

You know your mama would never do nothin' t' hurt ya.”

Fiona moaned as she sat back down; her creaking, aching bones a reminder of her own mortality. “Oh

my!” she exclaimed while attempting to make herself more comfortable, “I'm afraid I ain't gonna be far

behind ya, Sabrina. Nope, not very far at all.”

She held the bowl in front of her familiar, but Sabrina, too weak to do what it takes to drink out of one,

only touched the liquid with the tip of her tongue without consuming anything.

“I was afraid of that,” the old witch announced. “I guess we'll have to go to plan B. Come here, baby.”

The cat only looked at her imploringly. Fiona, moving slowly, learned forward and lifted her from the

cushion, placing her once again in her lap. No longer able to hold in her tears, the old woman sobbed

openly as she drew the white liquid from the bowl; and, without hesitation, lifted her pet's head slightly as

she put the plastic tube into Sabrina's mouth. She took a deep breath, and then deposited the potion deep

enough into her familiar's mouth so that it would find its way into the digestive tract.

“Mama loves ya,” she declared as she gently stroked the cat's head and body. Within a minute or two,

Sabrina laid her head down upon Fiona's thigh, and closed her eyes. Then, she was gone.

The old woman placed the body of her departed friend in a straw basket and placed it temporarily on

the foot cushion, thereby giving Sabrina's spirit time to adjust to the loss of its earthly vehicle before

bringing it out back for burial.

The brisk wind of earlier in the day had subsided into a gentle breeze when Fiona brought her

familiar's remains outside. Dusk had almost deepened into night by the time she had finished the burial

with the placing of a marking stone. Her doleful task completed, she tossed the shovel aside and allowed

her gaze to move toward the wooden sign she had hung up between two trees some years ago when she

had been more agile. She took note that the lettering, which denoted the small cemetery, was still quite

readable.

A nagging thought sprang up from deep down inside her. It was one that had been vexing her for some

time now. All the noise, all that development's taking place 'round here. Some days I can hear it as it

moves ever closer to me. Damn them! I cannot allow them or anyone to disturb this burial place—where

my best friends should be able to rest in peace. There's been too much magick done here to be replaced by

the noise and distractions of know-nothings.

She closed her eyes and remained still for a moment before uttering the words; “Cursed be any and all

who disturb this hallowed ground, for the spirits of those who rest here will awaken and exact their

revenge upon thee. So mote it be!”

A gust of wind came up after she spoke the words, once again swirling the fallen leaves as if in

acknowledgment of the woman's intent. Then, she walked slowly toward the warmth of her hoary home.

***

Some years later, a car pulled to the side of the road across from the house in which the old woman

had once lived. The driver, a man appearing to be in his early forties, gazed at the grizzly structure, which

was now surrounded by a chain-link fence. His mind flooded with childhood memories. Oh how I

remember this place. I was so afraid of it. We kids believed that an old witch lived in it, but it was likely

just an eccentric old woman.

As the man sat staring, he relived the child-like emotions he'd felt whenever he'd drawn close to the

structure during his days as a youngster—fear, dread, foreboding, but now those feelings, long abated, had

morphed into the comfortable realm of fond memories.

Hmm, he mused, what does that sign hanging by the gate say?

He exited his vehicle, waited for an approaching car to pass, then walked hastily toward the entrance to

the property. The sign, as well as the fencing, were untarnished—new. The man already had a good idea

what it would say, but he read it anyway.

Coming soon, apartments by Mason & Company

Making your dreams come true.

Sure enough, they're going to build here. It looks like I've come back to Fiskville just in time to see

what I'd left behind so long ago. He stared at the old structure and the surrounding landscape. There was

something enchanting about it all. An old house fallen in disrepair, underbrush having taken over the

surroundings, and those old trees in the back. I can only see part of them from here, but they seem twisted;

almost spooky.

Charles Krupta, for that was his name, could feel it; a building curiosity, and one almost as old as he

was. The child he had once been just had to explore that captivating building and its surroundings. He

would be hitting the road again the next day, and knew that he'd never have another chance to do so. He

looked up and down the street for passers by. There were none. He made his move, quickly shuffling

through the unlocked gate before walking toward the rear of the property.

A thick underbrush created cover for him as he took in his surroundings. The old house was in serious

decay—decrepit in his estimation, and likely not safe to explore on the inside. The trees, which still

towered over the rest of the vegetation, were indeed twisted, and long-ago dead. Their limbs, twisted into

creepy contortions and devoid of leaves or branches, eerily complemented the agrestic old house. All he

could think of were skeletons. Yes, skeletons long dead, with misshapen arms reaching toward all those

who would listen.

Then, he noticed it—a barely readable sign suspended between two trees; its lettering faded from years

of exposure to the weather. It took a moment or two before he could make sense of what it said, but once

he was able to discern what had once been painted upon its surface, his sense of intrigue only increased. It

said Cat Graveyard. In smaller letters underneath the wording continued: Do Not Disturb! Fiona

Charles gazed below and beyond to ascertain if there remained any clearly marked graves. “So, the old

woman was a cat lady,” he muttered to himself. “At least I know that much.”

He wasn't quite sure what he was looking for as he continued to explore until his foot hit something

hard, almost tripping him. Pushing the underbrush aside he noticed a sizable stone; then another a few feet

away and another. An extensive burial ground took shape before his very eyes; stones almost hidden from

view, each holding the long-gone remains of the eccentric old woman's feline friends. He was beyond

intrigued with his discovery, and the child that still lived inside him wanted more; much more.

Old memories still swirled in his mind as he turned toward his vehicle. Sometimes I wonder if she

really was a witch. It sure seemed it to me at the time, and this place sure is creepy enough.

“Ah, don't be silly,” he mumbled quietly to himself, dismissing his previous thoughts.

The man started the engine, threw the transmission into drive, and cast one last glance at the old

structure before pulling into the middle of the road. Hmm... I wonder.

Well, there you have it. That's all for this week's offering. Of course, the rest of the story can be found within my latest book, "Gruesome Encounters: A Collection of Nightmarish Fables." A link to my website is provided on this page for those who are interested.

The next Creepy Samples Offering will appear around the middle of August. So, thanks for being here, and until then, remember to keep it spooky.

Creepy Samples Offering: Decorations in the Witch House

Hello readers and new followers! As promised with the announcement of my new publication, "Gruesome Encounters," I am resurrecting my tradition of Creepy Sample Offerings, which involves relating segments of each story contained inside the book.

Today, I begin with the first piece that appears inside the new publication. It's called "Decorations in the Witch House," and it takes place in and around a small southern community called Westerville. Regina is a rather strange and solitary woman who lives outside of town. Both she and the townsfolk seem to prefer it that way.

We start at the beginning of the story before skipping deeper into the tale in order to continue with the original scene:

All eyes fell upon the woman as she entered the bar. Voices that had been so boisterous—so filled with

loud drunken nonsense only moments before, now fell to a whisper as she stood by the door, taking note

of everyone on the premises. She looked toward the pool table at the back of the large room. That's when

she saw them; all four of them. One of the young men had just taken a shot, splitting the balls to the far

sides of the table when he looked up and caught her gaze.

“Hey y'all,” he said to his companions. “Look at who just walked in.”

Their eyes, like those of the rest of the patrons, stared at her in disbelief as she returned their gaze; her

eyes cutting to their very core. For a moment she held eye contact, glaring at them intently, holding them

fast with an invisible power none present could fathom, before finally breaking the spell, thereby allowing

them to avert their own eyes from her.

She sauntered across the room, heading for the bar. “W... what can I do for you?” the bartender asked.

“A shot of Tequila,” she responded, “top shelf.”

“Yes, ma-am.”

The bartender returned with her drink and watched in astonishment as she drank the glass' entire

contents in one fell swoop. “I'll have another,” she informed him.

“That'll be eleven dollars,” the man told her upon returning with her second drink.

She handed him a five and a ten. “Keep the change,” she instructed to his delight.

The woman didn't guzzle her drink this time. Instead, she strode over toward the pool table with glass

in hand: her eyes once again holding them fast.

***

She stopped a few feet from the pool table, holding the four young men in her gaze. Their

discomfort with her presence was obvious.

Bobby was the first to speak up. “We... We didn't mean nothin' the other day. We'd just had a lot to drink is all.”

“Yeah, we was just drunk. That's all it was,” Danny interjected with a boyish expression on his face.

“You... You ain't told nobody nothin' have ya?” one of the others asked.

“No, no I haven't,” she informed him, taking note of a look of relief on all their faces. “But that doesn't

mean that I'm letting y'all off the hook. It doesn't work that way; not for me it doesn't.”

“So, what is it that you want?” Danny inquired.

It had become obvious to Regina by this time that Danny was the ringleader of this bunch. She took a

secret delight in this knowledge as she recalled his abhorrent behavior that other day on the road. She

decided to focus most of her attention upon him.

Looking deeply into his eyes she provided the answer to his question. “Come Saturday, I want you

boys to come out to my place and do some work for me. I've got some tree limbs and brush down that

need gotten out of my way, and there's some other stuff I can't do myself. Do that for me, and the matter is

closed. If you don't show up, I'll be making out a police report.”

“No problem, we'll git there,” he told her.

She gave him directions to her house and concluded her negotiations with more demands. “Just the

four of you. Be there at ten o'clock. Nobody else comes. You get no other help. I want y'all to pay for what

you did with sweat and blood.”

Regina finished her drink, turned her back on them, placed the empty glass on the bar, and headed for the exit. The four exchanged sighs of relief as she walked out into the street.

***

Later that night, after the encounter at the bar, Big Dan Walker, as the locals called him, sat in his easy

chair with a bottle of beer in hand. So, she wants me to pay penance for my bad behavior, he thought to

himself. Well, she ain't seen nothin' yet. Oh, I'll work alright, but I'm gonna work at more than just moving

tree limbs.

He took another swig from his near empty bottle, and spoke aloud. “Ya know what I think, little lady? I

think you're just a bit shy. I bet you're at home right now, thinking 'bout me, my bod, my natural charm,

and how you really can't resist me. Saturday's comin', and you and me are gonna have some fun.” He took a final swig from the bottle, emptying it before continuing. “Yep, we sure are!”

Well, that's it for this time around. I hope you enjoyed this week's offering and I'll have another for you in a couple of weeks. Until then, keep it spooky.

Gruesome Encounters: A Collection of Nightmarish Fables

 

 I am very pleased to announce the publication of my latest book entitled Gruesome Encounters: A Collection of Nightmarish Fables. It has been five years since the publication of my previous book, and this one picks up where A Day of Reckoning And Other Frightful Tales leaves off. 

Here lies a story of a group of small-town toughs who get over aggressive with the wrong woman--one who is more than capable of putting them in their proper place. 

Also here is the tale of a French man of the cloth, who finds himself enraptured by the charms of a young woman who is haunted by her demonic ex-lover. 

Within the pages of this new publication unfolds the story of a young girl, who at the tender age of six, is kidnapped from the carnival at which her mother works by a malevolent harlequin. 

And there's more contained within the pages of this new publication. If this new book of horror interests you, scroll back up to the section entitled How to Find These Books. This is where you will find purchasing information. Thank you for being here!

Creepy Samples Offering: Rosalie: Return of the Righteous One

 

 

It has been quite a while since I have done a Creepy Samples Offering; and, to be honest, I had fully planned on having it done before this point in time. Still, as it often happens, life can get in the way. That's my excuse, and I'll stick with it.

This is the last of the offerings from A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales. There are more tales featured inside of the book than those I have featured here, but the others are rather short--so short, that I feel it's better to not take excerpts from them, and to let the reader indulge him/herself in the full story. 

This final offering is taken from the story, Rosalie: Return of the Righteous one. This particular tale is the sequel to Rosalie, which appears in my first book, Tales of Dark Romance and Horror. It also crosses into the story-line of The Arrival of Narkissa Laveau, which appears in my second book, The Darkness Beyond the Misty Veil: More Tales of the Macabre. So, please allow me to delve into the meat of ;this year's offering. 

A young boy, who with his family lives on Haunted Mountain near the small community of Fox Grove, is found brutally murdered after being sent to perform a simple task for his mother. Even before the gruesome news comes to the Johnson Family, which also lives on Haunted Mountain, Rosalie, a young but powerful witch, expresses her intuition that some type of evil is lurking in and around the community. After learning of the boy's fate, she goes to her secret spot in the forest where she communicates with her long-deceased great-grand Mémére. After receiving her great-grandmother's guidance she decides to go to the local cemetery to see what she can learn. So, we pick up the story at the graveyard.

A vehicle pulled to the side of the highway two days later. It stopped just a short distance from, and just out of sight of the Fox Grove Cemetery. The driver turned toward his companion, handing her a flashlight before he spoke.

“I don't have a good feeling about this, Rosa. I wish you would just forget this whole idea. Whatever is going on, it doesn't directly affect us.”

“My Mémére seems to think that it will,” she responded. “You know that I had a feeling something was wrong even before we heard about the Buchanan boy. If we're in danger, or unknown forces are going to affect us, I want to know what to expect.” Her demeanor softened as she stroked his face lovingly. “Don't worry, Honey, I'll be fine.”

“Well, I'll just be at the turn around up ahead, waiting to hear from you,” Robert told her. “Call if you get into any trouble. I can get back here within a minute or two, if need be.”

She pulled him close, kissing him deeply before breaking the contact. “Will do,” she responded before exiting the vehicle. “See you soon—and don't worry!”

Rosalie waved Robert on before crossing the road. She decided not to be covert upon entering as that might cause suspicion, and instead, walked through the main entrance.

She nonchalantly passed by the grave markers, reading the various epitaphs in the deepening twilight as she made her way toward her great grandfather's final resting place. The young woman stopped upon reaching the familiar stone, and gazed down at it sadly before speaking in a voice barely more than a whisper. “You filled Mémére 's heart with joy, Grand-père. I wish I could have known you.”

Her reflections were interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves and snapping branches in the nearby woods—footsteps! Moving into a state of high alert, she shined her light in the direction of the sound, but saw nothing. The movement stopped with the flashlight's illumination.

It's probably just some forest animal, she thought to herself in an attempt at reassurance. Still, her instincts told her differently, and she had long ago learned to trust her intuitions.

Rosalie turned off the flashlight, but remained in place, looking in all directions, listening, dreading the possibility that she might soon confront some unspeakable evil.

A near silence engulfed the burial ground. There was only the sound of a gentle breeze as it swept through the treetops. The quietude was short lived, however, as the sound of footsteps from beyond the perimeter of the graveyard began anew. This time, the rustling upon the ground was accompanied by low-pitched, blood-curdling moans. They were unlike anything the young woman had ever heard before. They were unnatural, ungodly, and seemed as if they must have originated from within the very bowels of Hell. She again cast her light in the direction from which the sounds emanated, but to no avail. Whatever horror lurked nearby remained obscured, even as it shifted around menacingly.

Without warning, a church bell rang out, penetrating the relative silence of the night. It tolled from atop the steeple of the abandoned church, which adjoined the opposite end of the graveyard.

Rosalie, although startled, reacted by casting her light toward first the bell tower, then the main part of the structure and its immediate surroundings. She saw no sign of a human presence, however.

The bell rang out once again. This time, it continued to chime—solemnly, slowly; its mournful resonance echoing across the mountainous landscape. Time seemed to stand still as the bell, accompanied by the ghastly moans, still coming from the nearby woods, blended to form a dreadful cacophony, which betrayed the presence of something unspeakably sinister.

Just as quickly as the ringing had begun, it ceased, as did the grotesque vocalizations from the forest. Rosalie, completely unnerved by the experience, pulled her cell phone from her pocket and made the call.

“Robert, come git me, and hurry!”

“Be right there,” came the response.

She had just begun to make a hasty retreat toward the highway when a louder snapping of branches just to her right sounded a new alarm. Halting her retreat, Rosalie froze in place as she again shined her light in the direction of the sound, revealing a man-like figure emerging from the woods. She gasped as the being stood in place, staring at her menacingly. It had the shape and size of a man, but its skin and remaining teeth were rotted. One of its eyes was hollowed out. Its clothing was torn and ragged, but what startled her the most was the Stetson hat that sat upon its head.

Rosalie backed away in disbelief and horror. The creature growled in an act of recognition--mutual recognition!

She screamed, running for the highway as fast as her feet could carry her, reaching the two-lane just as an illumination in the distance signaled the approach of Robert's vehicle. It was when she got by the road and looked back toward the cemetery that she saw, in the growing illumination of the headlights, a darkly dressed woman, standing on the dirt road between the church and the highway. The woman was gazing in her direction; her eyes shining an unnatural green as the vehicle slowed. Her stare was compelling, even mesmerizing. Rosalie stood in place, staring back into her paranormal orbs.

Robert's voice broke the spell as he opened the passenger's door. “Come on, Rosa, get in!”

His partner broke eye contact with the woman and quickly got into the car. “Robert, look! Look!”

“Look at what? Where?”

“Over there, on the road alongside the cemetery; that woman!”

“I don't see anything,” he responded.

Like an apparition, the green-eyed one had already vanished from view.

“Never mind. Just git us out of here. Go, go!”

Robert hit the gas pedal, and the vehicle sped back toward town--and home!

*

Rosalie didn't look at the road ahead. She simply sat, staring downward; one hand supportmg her head.

“What the hell happened back there, Rosa?”

At first she didn't respond, and only continued covering her face.

“Come on, sweetheart, talk to me. What upset you?”

The shaken young woman slowly lifted her head, turning her attention toward him.

“It was him,” she began. “Fuck! It was really him.”

“Who?” Robert pressed with an air of impatience in his voice. “Who bothered you?”

“It was Crawford,” she continued. “I saw the Reverend Ronnie Crawford back there.”

“Now, how can that be? He's long dead. We both saw him die.”

“I'm tellin' ya,” she countered with annoyance, “it was him. But he's different. He's a monster now, a total monster.”

“Well, he always was a monster if you ask me.”

“Not that way,” she informed him. “I mean physically. He only has one eye, his teeth are rotted. So is his skin. He looks like something from out of a horror film.”

Robert was having a hard time wrapping his mind around what she was telling him, but he knew better than to question or challenge her; at least, not now.

“And that woman,” Rosalie continued. “There was something sinister about her. While I was outside the car she kept staring at me with her green eyes. I felt like she was trying to hypnotize me.”

“People can only be hypnotized if they want to be,” he interjected. “At least, that's what they say.”

“This was different. There's something about her. She's kind of magnetic. I could feel it, but she's scary as hell.”

“I've heard stories about a strange woman being around town,” Robert explained. “Thing is, nobody seems to know anything about her. She doesn't seem to live anywhere, but folks keep seeing her.”

“Yes, I've heard the stories too. Well, she's as real as I am--and so is Crawford. Somehow, she's got something to do with him.” Rosalie added, “I know it.”

The vehicle turned off the main road after passing through town. Not another word was spoken as they traversed through the dark countryside and climbed the steep terrain toward the top of Haunted Mountain, and home. 

 

Well, that's it for this, my latest book. I hope you have enjoyed reading these creepy offerings, or even better, the full stories in either the printed book or the ebook version. So, until next time then, keep it spooky! 

 Art work by K. Kierra.

Creepy Samples Offering: No Escape

 

Hello there, dear readers, and welcome to another creepy samples offering. As many of you are already aware, I just love vampire stories. So, and in that vein, today's sample will be in that tradition.

No Escape tells the tale of a rather religious young lady that is keenly aware that a vampire is pursuing her, and wants to claim her as her own. No Escape is one of the shorter stories you'll find in my latest book, so we'll just commence at the beginning of the tale.

The fluorescent cross on the wall glowed steadily, casting a soft, protective hue across the room. Beneath it, Maria slept comfortably for the first time in weeks. She had never believed in vampires before; at least, not until that night six weeks ago when a darkly dressed young woman approached her at a night club.

At first, she had been enthralled by her new acquaintance and had been impressed with her unique style of dress and accent that spoke of some exotic, faraway land. She soon discovered the true nature of her new-found friend, however, for on that very same night the mysterious woman attacked her in a dark alley. She had held Maria fast with super-human strength; and with sharp fangs bared, had placed her cool, deathlike lips upon her vulnerable neck. In that terrifying moment, Maria had come face to face with the finality of death and her own demise.

She had managed to let out a scream of absolute terror just before the woman's fangs were able to pierce her skin, and by some act of God, she believed, a passerby rounded the corner. Upon witnessing an act of violence only yards away from him, the man shouted to the attacker, forcing her to flee.

During the weeks that had passed since that horrific night, the vampire's last words to her continued to resonate through her conscious memory and in her dreams. “Do not resist me. I offer you immortality. I will find you and we will walk together as sisters.”

Then came the night upon which Maria, looking outside her window, had seen the creature lurking in the shadows. Her blood ran cold, and fear cut deep into her soul upon the realization that, “The creature has found me. Oh my God, she has found me!”

Being a God-fearing young woman, Maria had sought out the counsel of her parish priest. Having had considerable experience with vampires, he'd advised her to put a large crucifix on the wall facing the window. “A vampire cannot pass by the crucifix,” he'd told her. “The power of the Lord is stronger than all the forces that Hell can muster.”

It had taken a considerable amount of time for Maria to find the perfect cross. She'd wanted one that would glow brightly enough that its light would pass beyond the bedroom window, thereby keeping the blood drinker a safe distance away. After weeks of searching in vain, she discovered a large, fluorescent cross in a vintage shop. She lost no time in placing it upon her wall; and with the object fully functional, was overcome with a great sense of relief.

“Finally, I can rest easy,” she told herself as she reached to turn out the lamp next to her bed. “For the first time in weeks, I can sleep without fear.”

Outside, a figure emerged from the shadows.

Well, there you have it. I hope you all enjoyed this excerpt. They'll be more on the way. In the meantime, keep it spooky, and thanks for being here.

Creepy Samples Offering: Theda

 Hello, Dear Reader We have arrived at the middle of October. The spooky season is upon us. What better time than this to offer you another Creepy Samples Offering.

This time I am including an excerpt from a story entitled Theda. The tale concerns a young man named Ross and his obsession with the silent-film star Theda Bara, who was at the height of her acting career during the 1910s.

We pickup the story after Ross has a vivid dream in which he finds himself in an early twentieth-century setting, where he is confronted by the object of his obsession. The question is, was it a dream or was it something else?

Theda expresses her desire to come across from her realm in order to join him in his. “You must invoke me,” she tells him in order to bring her across the divide. With his task set out before him, and with no idea how to abide by Theda's instructions, he goes to an occult shop the following day, looking for answers.

'The next day went by agonizingly slow as Ross, eager to put his plan into effect, first had to contend with some classes at school before putting in a few hours with his part-time job at the university bookstore. He finished with his commitments early in the evening, and headed directly for the local occult shop.

'The sweet fragrance of incense and the sound of slow heavy metal music caught his attention as he entered the occult shop. The young man's discomfort was visible as he searched for the item he had in mind; and, in spite of his best attempts to appear nonchalant as he browsed through the many unusual offerings, little time elapsed before the clerk approached to assist him.

' “Can I help you find something?” she inquired.

'He turned his gaze toward her, and was taken by what he saw. She was a very attractive young woman with pitch black hair, tattoos, and a nose and lip piercing. She wore a sleeveless t-shirt that said Slayer—Reign in Blood. The store clerk was unlike any woman he had ever encountered; and, although she offered him a warm smile, he was overwhelmed by her beauty and demeanor. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but he was unable to put his finger on it. Naturally, he considered the beautiful woman standing before him completely out of his league.

 ' “I uh...” he stuttered, “I'm looking for a Ouija board. A good one—a real one if you have any.” He couldn't believe that he got the words out.

'She gave him another warm smile. “It seems to me that you're a man with big plans. Come with me. We have a nice selection.”

'He followed her to another aisle, where she pointed at the items before addressing him once again.

 

' “These are all authentic. As you can see, they vary in appearance but will all do the trick. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  ' “Uh, no. Thank you.”

'She offered him another smile before leaving him alone to make his selection. He looked over the merchandise carefully. This was a big step, and he didn't want to make any mistakes. Finally, he chose the board that he found most attractive, and brought it to the check out counter.

' “Have you ever used one of these before?” the clerk inquired as she placed the board in a paper bag.

' “Uh no, actually I haven't.”

' “Then you should be careful,” she explained. “These can open up the passageways between this world and the spirit world. Some people live to regret misusing these after seeing what they've brought into their lives. I recommend trying it with someone experienced first.”

' “Thank you,” he responded. “I will.” '

Well, there you have it. Theda, incidentally, is contained within the pages of my latest book entitled, A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales.

Until next time then, enjoy this spooky month of October! 

 Illustration by K. Kiera 

Creepy Samples Offering: The Amazing Dragos

 Hello there, dear readers, and welcome back to another Creepy Samples Offering. Today, I'll be presenting you with an excerpt from a story called The Amazing Dragos, which, of course, appears in my latest publication entitled A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales. 

Ordinarily, I give a bit of background before going directly into the meat of the story. Today, however, that won't be necessary as I'm going to start right at the beginning. So then, with0out further ado...

Vasile and Mihaela gazed at the mysterious woman intently. With only five minutes to go before show time, she had walked into the tent unexpectedly, making them an incredible offer.

The Amazing Dragoș, as they liked to call themselves, had been traveling the country with McKenzie & Sons, a carnival that for years had played to various county and state fairs. They were an aerial act, trapeze performers, who had never advanced to the circus; a life-long dream.

As luck would have it, the two had crossed paths at a local bar with a troupe of workers for a well-known circus, which had been setting up outside a nearby city.

“Management doesn’t know what to do,” one of the circus personnel had told them. “Our trapeze act is down with the flu or something. Perhaps you could help them out.”

This was the chance of a lifetime for the couple. Finally, their dream of performing for the circus might become a reality. They had met with management the following morning, and were given an opportunity to fill in for the sick performers. The Amazing Dragos had been scheduled to perform that very night.

In spite of their good fortune, Vasile and Mihaela had concerns; serious concerns. Both were approaching 40 years of age, and the ravages of time were beginning to take a toll upon their bodies. They desperately wanted to hit the big time, to travel with a nationally known circus, to perform as a couple on the top of their game. Yet, age was slowing them down. They were past their prime and they knew it.

The two had been attempting to soothe one another’s nerves when the strange woman approached them.

“I can make your every dream come true,” she told them. “I can give you the youthful vigor you need to succeed beyond your wildest expectations.”

“And how can you do that?” Vasile asked with skepticism.

“The details are unimportant,” the stranger responded. “You’re running out of time. Accept my offer and you’ll have a stellar night. After that, you must accompany me to my private theater and perform for my associates. Those are my terms.”

“May we speak about this privately for a moment?” Mihaela asked.

“Of course,” came the response, “but I wouldn't delay for long, if I were you. The act you're following is about to finish.”

The two stepped outside momentarily. Mihaela covered her mouth to hide her giggling as she began to speak. “Where did this woman come from?” she asked. “She can't really be serious.”

“She has got to be crazy,” her husband responded. “But let's humor her and accept her terms. It will make for a most interesting evening. Are we agreed?”

“Yes, let's do it.”

The strange woman greeted them impatiently when they returned inside. “What is your answer?” she demanded.

“We agree to your terms,” Vasile informed her.

“Yes,” Mihaela added, “we would like the stellar night you speak of.”

“Then you shall have it,” the stranger said with a knowing smile on her face. “Look into my eyes, both of you, and enjoy the sensation as the vigor of youth once again flows through your veins.”

As they gazed into her dark eyes a strange esthesis overtook them. An energetic flow of invigoration began spreading from the centers of their bodies outward—outward toward their limbs, energizing their every muscle—their every cell. Yet, there was something else as, during the passing seconds, they continued gazing into the woman's eyes. Her dark orbs seemed to them as bottomless pits, black holes leading into some unfathomable place. Her eyes seemed to hold a power over them; they could not avert their gaze. She held them fast.

After a minute or two, the stranger turned away from them. The dark spell seemed broken. In place of the temporary discomfort the two had experienced, there was only the feeling of youth. They could barely contain their energy. Their earlier feelings of doubt had been replaced by self-confidence and a sense of certitude. Tonight would be their best performance ever. They could feel it in their bones.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, for the first time under the big top, we present to you The Amazing Dragos!”

The announcement had been made. The audience cheered and applauded as they climbed the ladders leading to their respective trapezes. The spectators laughed as clowns commenced with funny antics while the couple made their way to the tiny platforms near the top of the tent. Each of the Amazing Dragos took hold of their trapeze, and the crowd hushed. The performance was about to begin.

 

Well, that's it for this week. I hope you enjoyed it, and we'll see you again in a few weeks. Until then, keep it spooky. 

 

Creepy Samples Offering: The Resurrection of Wanette

 

Hello, everyone, and welcome once again to another Creepy Samples Offering! 

 

Today's sample comes from a story entitled "The Resurrection of Wanette." It tells the tale of a young woman named Renee who has been invited to the home of an established goth couple that she met the night before at an event. We pick up the story after Renwick and Autumn, her hosts, have been impressing her with all of their spooky furnishings. After a nice visit, Renee announces that she should probably be leaving, but the couple have one more marvel to show her.

 

“Do you mean to tell me that there are still more marvels to behold?” Renee inquired with a chuckle. 

 

“Oh yes,” Renwick responded, “the greatest marvel of them all. We wanted to save the best for last.” 

 

“It's downstairs,” Autumn informed her. “Follow me.”

 

Renee couldn't believe her eyes upon reaching the basement. She gazed in amazement at a lavish coffin occupying the far side of the room. It was beautifully polished and lined with white silk. 

 

Renee stared at the coffin in amazement. “H....how'd you get it? It's amazing.” 

 

“It just kind of came to us,” Renwick responded. “We found it on the property one evening.”

 

“We consider it magical,” Autumn added, “because of the way that it just seemed to appear with nobody claiming it. Special goth points if you'd like to sleep in it.” 

 

“Wh....what? Really? I can sleep in it?” 

 

“If you'd like. It's not every goth that gets to sleep in an actual coffin,” Renwick reminded her. “And the experience will sure garner the respect of everyone in the culture.”

 

Autumn went to a nearby closet and returned with a sheer, black nightgown. “You can wear this for the night, then you'll really look authentic.” 

 

“What can I say?” Renee responded. “I'd love to do it.”

 

“Then it's settled,” Autumn said with a smile. “You're going to have a very unique experience.” 

 

“And I feel very honored that you're inviting me to do this.” 

 

Her hosts simply smiled without saying another word.

***

Renee emerged from the dressing room a few minutes later. She looked stunning, and was absolutely giddy from the attention her friends had lavished upon her. 

 

“You look lovely,” Autumn informed her. “I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have sleeping in our coffin. Now, there's just one more thing we need to do before you climb in and sleep for the night.” 

 

“Oh? What's that?” 

 

“Anyone who sleeps in a coffin needs to have a goth name given to them. This is a rite of passage after all,” Renwick informed her. “So, may we name you?”

 

“Of course,” the flattered young lady responded. 

 

Autumn spoke next. “Then, from this moment on, you will be known by our community as Wanette.”

 

“It means the pale one,” Renwick added. 

 

“Do you accept this name?” Autumn inquired. 

 

“Oh yes! Yes, I accept it, and I'm truly honored. Thank you!”

 

“Then we'll leave you to your experience,” Autumn concluded. Good night!” 

 

“Yes, good night—and thank you both!” 

 

The two retreated up the stairway leaving Wanette to her own devices. She turned out the light and climbed into a coffin for the very first time.

***

Wanette had no sooner gotten comfortable inside the casket than sleep overtook her—a deep sleep—a sleep that was more death-like than ordinary slumber. She didn't move or even breath. She had, in fact, become quite lifeless. 

 

Well, there you have it. That will just about do it for now. And keep in mind that the conclusion to this story can be found in my latest book, A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales. Until next time then, keep it spooky!

Creepy Samples Offering: A Day of Reckoning

 

 

Hello everyone!  It has been two or three weeks since I posted the first in a series of Creepy Samples Offerings for my new book, "A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales." What I have for you today is a segment from the story for which the publication is named. Because this offering commences at the very beginning of the tale, there is no need for me to describe what has been going on previous to where the story picks up. So, then, let's just start at the beginning.

Jessica arose with a start, and looked around the dark room. At first glance everything seemed normal, but she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had overtaken her. Something was wrong; yet, she couldn't determine what it might be. As the young woman turned toward the bed, she gasped in horror. Stretched out across the covers was the lifeless body of a young woman. A closer inspection revealed that it was her own body. A trail of blood trickled down from two puncture wounds on her neck.

"Oh my God," she screamed. "My God! It can't be! No! Please no!"

The horrific memory of all that had just occurred flooded her mind. She remembered turning off the
lamp on the end table, and only moments later, feeling the breath of the cold night air caressing her skin.

"I don't remember opening the window," she had mumbled to herself while arising to shut it.

Jessica recalled the electrifying fear she'd felt when she saw a darkly dressed stranger standing by the gently swaying curtains. She remembered retreating toward the door when he hissed at her threateningly before opening his mouth wide, revealing two obtrusive fangs. She recalled struggling valiantly against the stranger's attack, and vividly recollected the sharp pain in her neck as the man's incisors penetrated her soft skin. She sobbed uncontrollably as she gazed upon the body that was once hers; now lifeless and drained of its essence.

Time stood still as the young woman, filled with grief over her own passing, continued to stare at that
which had once been her earthly vehicle--a body that once experienced pain and pleasure as well as the feel of the cool wind blowing through her hair. She thought about the young man she loved waiting for her back home, and how he had no way no way of yet knowing that she would not be returning to him.

She recoiled with the thought that her best friend, with whom she was staying, would react in the morning upon discovering her dead body. Her thoughts then turned to her friends and family back home, and the good times they'd all had together. Jessica grieved for the fleeting life she once had.
Seemingly frozen in time, she struggled to make peace with that which had happened.

When Jessica could no longer bear the sight before her, she stooped over in an effort to touch her former earthly vehicle. Then, she turned and walked out the door, without even attempting to open it.

Upon her arrival in New Orleans, she'd heard stories about resident blood drinkers, but had dismissedthem as superstitious fantasy and failed to pay them any mind. Now she believed; and, as she strode out into the darkness of the night, she promised herself that she would make the creature pay for what he'd done. 

"Vampire or not," she told herself, "he'll pay a high price for what he's done to me."

Well, there you have it. We now have a ghost seeking vengeance upon the physical being responsible for her untimely death. Does she accomplish her mission, and if so, how? To find the answer you'll have to follow the links here either to Romance and Horror Dot Com, to the Lulu Bookstore, or you can find this particular story available independently on Kindle. 

 

Until next time then, keep it spooky and thanks for being here!

 

Creepy Samples Offering: Angel of Death

 

Hello, readers and followers. Welcome to the first Creepy Samples Offering for my new publication, A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales. This is the first of several offerings you will find here; each one, containing an excerpt from one of the stories contained inside the book. 

 

 

Today's tale is called "Angel of Death." It concerns a man named Tom Flanagan, who, due to his interest in the paranormal, is allowed to spend an entire night alone in the Boytsville Library, which exists within an old plantation-like house formerly built and owned by a family seemingly cursed with a history of tragic deaths. We pick up the story with Flanagan, having just read the final words of Scarlet Thatcher, the last of the original family members to live in the house, coming to a frightful realization. 

 

An unusually strong gust of wind whistled around the corners of the old building. Tree branches pounded against the windows as if attempting to gain access to the building itself. Emotionally shaken and now fearful, Tom turned his attention once again to the diary's very last page. The author's last words invoked in him a sense of profound sadness as well as personal terror. 

 

"Tonight, I myself witnessed the appearance of the dark being that has plagued my family for so long. The others are gone, and I know now that I will soon fall victim to its inescapable grip of death. I wish for only one thing. May my chronicles survive the passage of time and serve as a warning to anyone who may one day discover them. Beware this harvester of souls, this Angel of Death! 

 

February, 24, 1904”

 

Tom closed the book and placed it on the shelf. His blood flowed like ice through his veins as he pondered all that had transpired this night. Tonight, I saw the same angel that Scarlet had seen. I'm sure of it. It was not just my imagination, or an optical illusion. I'm sure of it now. 

 

The frightened man could quell neither his thoughts nor his fear. He had seen a ghostly figure—a woman; probably Scarlet. And the books falling to the floor with her diaries opened? Could she have been trying to warn him? 

 

The sound of a woman's mournful cry interrupted his thoughts. The sorrowful voice, although not loud, reverberated throughout the library. A profound understanding took hold even as pure, unbridled terror gripped him to the core of his being. She's crying for me! Scarlet's mourning over me! 

 

Then, he saw it; a dark-robed, hooded figure gazing at him from the other side of the building. Its icy stare boring into his very soul. The figure began moving toward him—slowly, methodically—drawing ever closer with each step; its eyes never breaking contact. Tom lost all composure as the being approached.

 

“No! No! Get away from me. Please, go away!”

 

Well, there you have it! For information on where you can find this and my other publications, just go to the the introduction at the top of this front page. 

 

Thanks for reading. Keep it spooky, y'all!

 

Illustration by K. Kiera. 

A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales

 

I am pleased to announce the publication of my next book, which is entitled A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales. 

Here lies the tale of a young woman, her life taken away by a cruel blood drinker while vacationing in New Orleans, who seeks to destroy the one that sent her to the ghostly realms. On these pages you will find the story of a young man who, obsessed with a firm starlet long ago deceased, strives to bring her across the veil from the realms of the dead, to the world of the living. Perhaps he should be careful what he asks for.

All is not well around the small Ozark town of Fox Grove, as the ghastly killing of a young boy and the intuition of the young witch, Rosalie, forces her and her family to not only confront a former enemy, now resurrected from the depths of Hell, but the Vampire Narkissa Laveau herself. All of this and much more is contained within the pages of this book,

 A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales is available on Lulu, where you can find both the print and ebook versions in the Lulu Bookstore. The new publication is also available at Amazon, on Kindle, and other places where books are sold. 

During the days and weeks ahead, I will be bringing back several of my Creepy Samples Offerings, which will provide excepts from several of the stories contained within the pages of this book. 

Thank you for being here!

       A.D. Vick

 

Theda

An overly shy college student, who is enamored with the long-deceased actress, Theda Bara, is transported one night across the veil that separates the realm of the living from that of the dead. It is here that, to his astonishment, the beautiful silent-film star appears, and seductively convinces him that, if he can only invoke her presence properly, she could join him on his side of the veil. As the young man returns to the earthly realm and begins working toward that goal, he is completely unaware of what his actions will lead to.
This is the theme of my latest piece of short fiction entitled "Theda." It is now available exclusively on Kindle.

Just click on the link below to be taken to the Kindle Store where you can find more information. 

To purchase or for more information go here.