main menu | standard categories | authors | new stories | search | links | settings | author tools |
Three Mile Drove, Chapter Ten (standard:horror, 5786 words) [11/29] show all parts | |||
Author: Brian Cross | Added: Nov 08 2006 | Views/Reads: 2998/2121 | Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
Serialization of a completed horror story, set in the English fens. A flashback precedes chapter ten. | |||
She'd heard the sound of thunder as she'd left the village store, but that wasn't surprising, because the nice weather of the summer day had been spoilt by an increasing dampness. She'd felt the depressing closeness of the evening air and aware of the tightness in her chest, feared she might have an asthma attack. She'd been careful to hide this from her parents, because her father Henry, in particular, wasn't well. That's why she'd cycled to the village with a letter he'd told her was important. She'd put it in the box just as the man came to empty it, and then popped into the store before it closed for some sweets with the pocket money her father had given her. He'd normally have made the journey himself, letting her sit on the long seat beside him, but that day he'd been coughing and sweating and shaking; it had frightened her to see him like that because he'd always been strong and active. Her mother, who didn't seem very well herself, had said that he was suffering from an illness, but that he would soon get better. It was a long name she hadn't been able to understand, except that she thought it started with an N. It didn't really bother her that she was making the journey back on her own, and that it would soon be dark, because she could cycle quickly and in about ten minutes she'd be safely inside her house. Anyway, there was nothing to worry about in a quiet place like this; it was so much better than the dirty, narrow streets that the town people lived in. That was what her parents told her and she believed them. She guided her bicycle carefully onto the road and waved goodbye to Mr. Hopkins, the man who owned the shop, as he bolted the door behind her. It wasn't long before she reached her road, turned right and had to slow down now, it was a very bumpy road, not at all level, and made out of millions of tiny little stones that she'd heard described as gravel. She needed to be careful; otherwise her cycle might slip on them. And she was always careful. Very careful she thought. She wasn't one for trick cycling, or riding without her hands on the handlebars, her mother had always warned her about that. No, those childish, silly things weren't for her. She thought she was practical and sensible, despite being only ten years of age. She started to peddle faster again, noticing that it had got darker much more quickly than she'd thought it would. The sky in front of her seemed to have changed from a grey-brown one, to a purple-black in no time at all. It seemed to be swallowing up the cluster of trees she could see in the distance, so that they merged into a dingy darkness that disturbed her. Along with the dark clouds it had become so windy that it seemed a big invisible hand was trying to wrestle the handlebars away from her. There really wasn't much further to go now, she could see her house and the weird old tree that stood before it, as she urged the wheels of her cycle to go even faster, leaning forward and pushing the pedals with all her might. But it felt that the wheels were being pushed sideways, taken from under her, and that the wind was seizing her breath as it howled through the telegraph wires above and became mixed with other sounds, strange sounds – cries that seemed to hang in the air. Then the world seemed to turn upside down as she crashed upon the gravel surface, the ground rising up to greet her like a million tiny biting insects, prickling at her skin and cutting it in what seemed one combined movement. She could feel the arm flow as blood oozed from her knee, and then as her knee twisted painfully beneath her, her face hit the ground hard. She tried to open her eyes but they were full of burning, stinging shingle. Then she passed out. * * When she came to, she was in a big, dome shaped room with sawdust and sacks scattered across the floor. There were strange people, the likes of which she'd never seen before. Some had heads that seemed too big for their bodies, others had arms which hung down to their knees, there was even one man who seemed to have no neck, his head just seemed to join on to his round, fat body, and he had small legs. He didn't seem to be able to speak but he screamed so loudly it made her ears ache. She could see at least seven or eight of these people, who acted like Click here to read the rest of this story (566 more lines)
This is part 11 of a total of 29 parts. | ||
previous part | show all parts | next part |
Authors appreciate feedback! Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story! |
Brian Cross has 33 active stories on this site. Profile for Brian Cross, incl. all stories Email: briancroff@yahoo.co.uk |