Icy Sedgwick's Blog, page 57

Ghost Town – Free Flash

Up until Google came along, Pocklebridge didn’t appear on any maps. We took down the signs during the war to confuse the Germans and we never put them back up, so our station remained anonymous, tucked away on a side spur that trains rarely use. We don’t have many amenities so road signs only appear within about a mile or so of the village green, when you’re too close to turn back. The village hid from the world, and we were happy with that.

But even we couldn’t hide from a satellite, and eventually, Pocklebridge appeared on maps. Sat navs could find it through its post codes. People still had no reason to come here, so for a time, it didn’t really matter. We kept on with our little quiet ways, and everything seemed fine. But word of mouth is a powerful thing, and it spreads faster than most viruses. After all, how many places do you know of that don’t just have a haunted house, they have a whole street of them?

It started off with Eiderdown Cottage, the first house on the left in Willow Street. Its elderly owner died, a lovely old thing named Edith Crabtree, and she left her tiny place to a niece from London. The niece arrived, and soon started complaining of noises in the night, strange lights at the windows, and all manner of disturbances. I can’t say any of us were surprised. Then No.3 Willow Street was next, left empty by the death of its owner, gap-toothed old Freda Smacksmith, and again the house was inherited away to a cousin from Birmingham. More disturbances were reported, including ghostly whispering over the back fence at midday. No.12, all the way down at the end of the lane, right where the street turns into scrap ground, was next. So it went on for months – the old folk died, leaving their houses to long lost relatives, who soon complained that things were going bump in the night. Eleven months after Mrs Crabtree died in Eiderdown Cottage, every resident in Willow Street was talking about ghosts – even the hard-nosed physicist who scoffed that they even exist. He soon changed his mind, I can tell you.

Of course, the internet found out, as the infernal thing always does. People began to visit Pocklebridge to see the haunted houses, bringing cameras and picnics. Tourists would loiter in the gardens, listening to the whispered conversations over the fence. The family in no.6 discovered that their resident ghost liked to rearrange the linen cupboard according to threadcount and people started paying a fee to come and see it. We even had TV crews come in, letting their hysterical hosts loose in the houses with thermometers and infra red. The ghosts stopped being pests, and became more like pets, pottering about the house playing with the furniture. The families that moved in started to see just why you wouldn’t want to leave Pocklebridge.

That’s the thing, you see. People don’t move to Pocklebridge, and they don’t move out. No one ever leaves. And let me tell you, we’ve got twenty more houses in the area with ageing occupants. That’s twenty more houses to be left in wills, and inherited by outsiders. Twenty more houses just waiting for newcomers. Twenty more houses with phantom footsteps, flickering lights and knocking in the walls.

This town…it’s becoming like a ghost town.

 

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Monsters: born or made?

By Esparta [CC BY 2.0]

Some time ago I ran a poll on my Facebook page to find out what horror monsters people favour. Sadly only eight people responded. 3 said zombie; 2 said vampire; and Frankenstein’s Creature, mummy, and witch got one vote each.

So I ran a poll on Twitter to ask what people’s favourite horror monsters are. Apparently polls don’t show up for everyone, though I did get 71% of votes for vampire, 14% of votes for werewolf and 15% of votes for zombie. But I got a range of responses outside of the options I’d set. The first answers were;

Dolores Umbridge (@DJMumin)
Contemporary: Kevin Kilgrave. Classic: The original Dracula (@eyrea)
Jason Voorhees (@authorsahunt)
Godzilla (@TheCowInBlack and @velobetty)
Pinhead (@SydFloyd78)

Pretty wide-ranging! We’ve got a semi-supernatural slasher killer, a radioactive lizard, a meglomaniacal witch, a classic literary vampire, a demon, and one of Marvel’s villains.

Given the choice, I’d rather face Jason Voorhees than Dolores Umbridge.

It was a bit of a loaded question and it isn’t clear whether these are the monsters that people find most scary, or the monsters that people enjoy watching the most.

But I think you can divide the monsters into two camps – those who have no control over their creation, and those who are very much in control.

Accidental monsters

By Toho Company Ltd. © 1956 [Public domain]

These are the horror monsters you can almost pity. Godzilla is a good example. He doesn’t create himself. Whether he is a sea monster awoken by radiation, or a lizard transformed by such, it is still unnatural radiation that gets the plot going.

Jason Voorhees dies due to neglect and comes back to avenge his mother. These monsters are a product of their environment. Human intervention, or lack of, lies behind their creation.

This is where back story comes in. It has to explain how they were created, and the real monster is often responsible. (Think Frankenstein) There has to be an element of sympathy for the monster. The monster must also have a clear motivation as a result of this back story. Frankenstein’s Creature realises he is alone in the world and just wants another being like himself.

They can also be ambiguous. Godzilla can be both an ally and an enemy. Frankenstein’s Creature isn’t always a villain. It just depends on the narrative, but redemption is not an impossibility for these monsters.

Intentional monsters

These are the horror monsters who know exactly what they’re doing. Newer stories try to give Dracula a tragic back story, or turn him into a romantic anti-hero. But look at Bram Stoker’s original and you’ll find a straight up-and-down monster.

They’re also plausible. We all had a teacher like Dolores Umbridge. We hated her because we knew her. Snape acted like a bastard, so we knew we were supposed to dislike him. But Umbridge was monstrous precisely because she pretended she wasn’t.

These are the monsters with total control over themselves and their surroundings. They’re dangerous because they know more than you. They know themselves. They’re often also powerful – look at Pinhead. Sometimes they even start out as an accidental monster, but embrace their monstrosity so wholeheartedly they become completely evil. Redemption is completely out of the question for them.

Based on my poll, 41% of the votes went to accidental monsters, while 59% of the votes went to intentional monsters. My respondents like their monsters to be comfortable in their monstrosity!

What’s your favourite monster? Let me know in the comments below!

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Along the Old Corpse Road

Image by Nigel Chadwick.

Tanya sits on a low wall at the bottom of her garden, and she’s already swigging from a bottle by the time I reach her. She’s picked the label off so I’ve no idea what it is but it’s pink and smells like floor cleaner. She hands it to me before I’ve even sat down.

“What are we doing here?” I ask her. She sent me a text earlier telling me to get down here before it gets properly dark but wouldn’t tell me why. I can’t help thinking she just wants to get drunk and brag about the stuff she’s done with Mickey Tunnock.

“Found out summat int’restin’ today,” she says. She’s already slurring and her eyes have that glassy, faraway look.

“What?” I pretend to take a swig from the bottle but I keep my thumb over the neck. Tanya doesn’t even notice.

“This ‘ere, this bit o’ road, it’s a corpse road.” Tanya gestures to the rocky path that runs along the bottom of the garden, disappearing off through the fields.

“A what?”

“Corpse road. People din’t get buried at church, so they had to get carried along ‘ere,” says Tanya.

“That’s a bit creepy.”

I look along the path, and think of the number of times I’ve used it as a shortcut to get to Jake’s house. Tanya fishes around in her inside pocket and pulls out a battered packet of cigarettes. She’s probably pinched these from her dad along with the pink rubbish in the bottle.

“Found out from one of them church lot in the village. Figured they’d frighten me into behavin’ or summat.” Tanya smiles but it looks more like a leer.

“So why are we sat down here?” The air’s getting cold and I’ve just realised the stones are slick with damp.

“Told Mickey ‘n he said he already knew. But then, get this, he says that if we sit ‘ere on a full moon, we’ll see a ghost.” Tanya wiggles her fingers and makes childish ghost noises. I roll my eyes.

“And you believe everything Mickey tells you?”

“Most of it.” She giggles, no doubt remembering something filthy he’s told her.

I pass back the bottle and she takes another swig. I look up at the sky and notice it’s a full moon. I can’t remember the names of the other phases but there’s no mistaking this one. I doubt we’ll see a ghost, although Tanya will be seeing all kinds of stuff if she keeps drinking that pink stuff.

When I look at Tanya again, she’s slumped against the tree by the wall. She’s snoring gently, her mouth open and her eyes flickering. I’m half tempted to take a photo to put on Instagram but I notice something more interesting. People are coming along the path towards us. There are only about six of them, and four of them are carrying a box. It’s long and thin, but wider at the top end. There’s no mistaking what that is. The two at the front walk with their heads bowed. What’s really weird though is that I can see through them.

I consider waking Tanya but I’m scared that the noise she’ll make will ruin the illusion, and the vision will go away. I know I should be scared, but I’m not. All I can think of is I need to take a photo or no one will believe me. I fumble with my phone but the camera app won’t load. I jab at the icon several times, knowing the people are getting nearer, and when the app finally opens, all the screen shows is static.

I groan in annoyance, and look up in time to see the people drawing level with us. One of the figures at the front finally looks up, and she stares me full in the face. I stare back, unable to believe what I’m seeing. I fall backwards off the wall and hit the ground with a thump. Only one thing springs to mind before I pass out.

The girl who looked at me is my absolute reflection.

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Frankenstein Lives Again

Frankenstein was released on 21 November 1931 in the USA. It wasn’t the first adaptation of Mary Shelley’s novel since a silent version was released in 1910. Yet James Whale’s black-and-white version reversed the ailing fortunes of Universal and kickstart a wave of horror production. It also turned its Monster, played by Boris Karloff, into a star. Frankenstein later did the same for Christopher Lee in 1957.

The Many Faces of Frankenstein

The interest in Frankenstein shows no signs of abating. The Creature is a regular character in Gothic drama Penny Dreadful. The Frankenstein Chronicles has just made its debut on ITV Encore. A new film version, starring James McAvoy as Victor and Daniel Radcliffe as his assistant Igor, is due out on Thursday. I’m looking back at the Creature’s screen presence so far to choose my favourite three portrayals!

Benedict Cumberbatch

In 2011, Benedict Cumberbatch starred in a stage adaptation of Frankenstein for the National Theatre, alongside Jonny Lee Miller. The pair alternated between playing Victor and the Creature. Critics largely agree that Cumberbatch was better as the Creature.

He played the Creature at the screening I saw at the cinema last year. Cumberbatch’s portrayal relied more heavily on the novel than the simplicity of Karloff’s classic Monster. Cumberbatch’s Creature is eloquent and articulate, and generates pathos through his simple desire to be loved. He is also physical, running about the stage like an oversized child.

Rory Kinnear

Kinnear is perhaps my favourite version of the Creature. He loves poetry and understands his own monstrosity. Ironically this makes him the most human character in Penny Dreadful. He also holds the dubious distinction of making me cry with his scenes in the second season!

Of all the versions I’ve seen, Kinnear’s Creature is perhaps the most lonely, and most pitiable. He has a capacity of violence, but it isn’t his first port of call. This Creature just wants to be left in peace.

Peter Cushing

Ah, but Icy! I hear you say. Why include the actor that played Victor Frankenstein in a list about the Creature? In Revenge of Frankenstein (1958), Cushing technically became his own monster! His assistant transplants Victor’s brain into his newest creation after the doctor is set upon by an angry mob. For the other five films in the series, Victor’s brain is still in this other body, not his own.

The films were made by Hammer, not a company known for their avant garde approach or critical value. Most people confuse Victor with the Creature and they turned that into a plot point! Incidentally, Revenge of Frankenstein is also my favourite of Hammer’s films about Victor and his exploits.

What are some of your favourite portrayals of the Creature? Leave me your suggestions in the comments below!

 

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Numbers – Friday Flash

Elijah sat on the platform at Ealing Common, a cheap ballpoint in one hand and a small wirebound notebook in the other. Every day, he’d turn to a fresh page in time to see new equations appear, and he’d steal fragments of time throughout the day until the equations were solved. Though he’d never tell anyone, the numbers spoke to him. They told him stories. The completed equations even sang him lullabies when his brain felt too full and sleep eluded him. He kept the notebook with him at all times, solving equations in snatched moments between tasks. The compulsion to solve the equations neutralised any curiosity he might have felt about what the equations were for, where they came from, or what might happen if he didn’t solve them.

At the same time across the Atlantic, Benny huddled behind a dumpster in Hell’s Kitchen, solving a sudoku from a discarded copy of The Post. He’d wrapped himself in newspapers every night for as long as he could remember, but he only noticed the number puzzles a month before. The first time he did the puzzle, a man gave him a dollar for finishing it, and every day, as soon as he finished his puzzle, he found a coin in the street, or a kind passerby gave him some food. He didn’t think the puzzles and his new luck were connected but he wasn’t going to risk losing it, not now. He scrawled his final digit into the box, a misshapen number 9, and waited for dinner.

In the early Italian sunshine, Marco sat at a table in a Venetian piazza, scrawling equations on a napkin. Sometimes the numbers twisted and turned, leading him on a merry dance through a whole pile of napkins and onto the tablecloth, but today they were behaving themselves, and were slotting into place all over the thin paper. Or were they? Thunder rumbled around the sky as he stared at his equation. He knew it was wrong, but how? Another rumble erupted into a sky rapidly sliding from blue to slate grey. Marco stared at the numbers and swore loudly; he’d written a 3 where there should have been a 4. He corrected the mistake as the waitress brought his brunch. He continued to work on the numbers as the sky lightened.

Seconds ticked, digits flashed on trading floors, hearts beat at around 70 beats per minute, and the numbers continued to spin the universe in the right direction.

If you enjoyed this flash, consider reading my collection of short stories, Checkmate & Other Stories, available from Amazon and Smashwords.

Cameron Trost called it “A wonderful collection of tales of subtle urban fantasy with a delicious gothic flavour” while Cassie Nichols said it was “The best dollar I’ve spent all year”.

It’s just 99c in the States, or 99p in the UK!

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Why You Should Appreciate The Little Things

In the aftermath of the horrific week we’ve had, including earthquakes in Japan and Mexico, and attacks in Beirut, Baghdad and Paris, it would be easy to focus on the negative, and assume the world is teetering on the brink.

Who knows? Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t – only time will tell, though if people carry through their messages of support from social media into the world around them then we could all be the change we want to see.

At times like these it’s important to appreciate the little things that make the world a less horrific place. After all, Eric Draven made the very good point that nothing is trivial, and lots of small things can add up to become something momentous indeed.

Here’s my list of ten things that make life a little more bearable.

Babies, of any species, but particularly giraffes.
The hashtag.
The muffled silence you get during snow fall.
Those brief moments when shared smiles break the ice between strangers.
The lovely man in the gift shop at the Paris Catacombs last year who offered me directions to make sure I could get where I needed to be.
The maniacal giggles of toddlers.
Someone remembering your favourite type of baked good from Starbucks – and making their own (superior) version for you.
Making art.
Sunrises – and realising Nature has a much better paintbox than you do.
Individuals like Malala.

And finally…this fantastic little video of a daring escape.

What little things do you appreciate about life? Share them in the comments below.

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Crime Museum Uncovered – Exhibition Review

Two weeks ago I was in London to see Hamlet at the Barbican (which was amazing, by the way), and I took the opportunity to visit the Crime Museum Uncovered exhibition at the Museum of London – MoL always do strong exhibitions and I’ve been fascinated by the Crime Museum for years. Yes, I am a horror writer and I specialise in the Gothic, but horror and true crime can be frequent bedfellows, and sadly reality is often more horrifying than fiction.

But what is the Crime Museum?

Glad you asked.

The Crime Museum was established in 1875 after legislation was introduced that required the Metropolitan Police to store the belongings of prisoners while they were being detained. Unclaimed items were absorbed into the collection, and eventually it became a teaching tool used in the training of new officers. Aside from the two world wars, the Museum’s visitor book has been open since 1877.

The Museum is usually only accessible to police professionals and specially invited guests, so the contents of the Museum have remained somewhat mysterious since its inception. Known colloquially as the Black Museum, due to what people assumed would lie within, it even inspired Horrors at the Black Museum in 1959, a British horror film starring Michael Gough. If you haven’t seen it, it’s actually worth a watch, and it in itself forms an interesting addition to the debates surrounding horror film censorship.

What’s actually in the exhibition?

The curators, working with the Metropolitan Police Service and the Mayor’s Office for Policing And Crime (MOPAC), have collected objects and evidence from a host of notorious crimes, including murder weapons, clues, and items that have led to the development of the forensic sciences. The Museum of London have worked closely with the independent London Policing Ethics Panel to plan this exhibition, and aside from the panels dedicated to the policing of terrorism, none of the cases are more recent than 1975 in an attempt to protect the families of any victims.

The exhibition is divided into two halves. The first section takes the form of a Victorian cabinet of curiosities, displaying those items from 1875 to 1905. You can see death masks from Newgate Prisons, ropes used on the gallows, ephemera associated with criminals, and the entirety of the Museum’s collection relating to Jack the Ripper (clue: it’s not as much as you might think).

The second section features twenty five individual cases from 1905 to 1975, including Dr Crippen, the Sidney Street Siege, John Haigh, Ruth Ellis, and the Krays. It also features items from the Museum that could have come from a Bond film, including microdots and a shotgun disguised as an umbrella, as well as the challenges facing modern policing.

Isn’t that a bit morbid?

Yes and no. I found the whole thing fascinating from the viewpoint of the ways in which these cases helped the development of the forensic sciences. You can remain respectful of the victims and their families while appreciating the massive strides forward taken by the detectives in their respective eras. Fingerprint analysis, blood spatter analysis and other forms of detection that are now commonplace all found their origins here. Without these advancements, more murderers would doubtless go free.

That said, I found the number of tourists pronouncing things to be “cool” or “awesome” to be disrespectful. You’re looking at a pair of tights that were used to choke the life out of an innocent woman – that is not cool. What you’re actually looking at is the most base tendencies of the human mind, and the primitive current of violence that bubbles beneath our thin veneer of civilisation. Not awesome at all.

Is it any good?

A resounding ‘yes’. My only criticism is the layout of the first section; the museum provide an information sheet designed like a newspaper to explain what you’re looking at and it created bottlenecks where visitors were crowded around cases, unable to see what was in them as they were blocked by people waving the newspapers around. Perhaps managing the flow of people would help, or maybe it would be better to go at a different time of day – after all, I’d gone on the first day of half term.

The exhibition is sensitive towards its contents, and it provides an interesting insight into the history of crime detection, as well as a loose history of the justice system. It steers clear of ghoulish sensationalism, remaining objective and respectful at all times. The copy that accompanies each case is calm and measured, and places as much emphasis on the victim as it does on the perpetrator, never glorifying their acts of violence.

Curated by Julia Hoffbrand and Jackie Keily, it follows the Jack the Ripper (2008), Dickens and London (2011) and Sherlock Holmes (2014) exhibitions in exploring the darker side of London, and in this it forms an interesting companion piece – just how advanced is modern society, and are we any further away from crime than we were in 1888?

I want to go! When is it on, and how much is it?

The Crime Museum Uncovered runs from 9 October 2015 – 10 April 2016 and is accompanied by a programme of talks and events. Tickets available from £12.50 online; £15 on the door. Wednesdays only; tickets from £10.

Have you been to the exhibition yet? Let me know in the comments below.

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Is Crimson Peak a ghost story?

Tom Hiddleston in a Gothic horror film directed by Guillermo del Toro about a haunted house? Sounds like someone delved into my head and cherrypicked what they found to make the ideal film for me. But did Crimson Peak live up to my expectations?

Well, in truth…yes and no.

Edith (Mia Wasikowska) wants to be a writer, and having experience of the supernatural after a ghostly visit by her mother as a child, she naturally turns to the spectral when she begins writing. She’s keen to stress to a prospective publisher that her story is not a ghost story, rather it’s a story with a ghost in it, which is a neat summary of Crimson Peak itself. You could quite easily take the ghosts out of it completely and it would still work as a film. According to del Toro’s Twitter feed, the ghosts were actors in full make up who were simply augmented by CGI but I felt the CGI was a little wobbly – though I’ll happily take any excuse to see the fabulous Doug Jones in make up.

Guillermo del Toro makes visually arresting masterpieces. He’s the Titian, the John Martin, and the Hieronymous Bosch of cinema.

That said, his films work best when real, physical things are going on on screen. The set design is second-to-none, and the crumbling Gothic edifice of Allerdale Hall looms across the entire film like the dark presence you feel walking behind you late at night, but whenever you turn around you only glimpse it out of the corner of your eye. The costumes just add to the Gothic glory of the whole thing, and they’re truly sumptuous. But the ghosts? Hm. I’m not sold. I want creaking floors, flickering shadows, things disappearing only to reappear elsewhere, ghostly writing on walls – not the occasional appearance of a bloodied corpse crawling along a floor.

Well what’s it about?

Edith lives in Buffalo, New York and she meets Sir Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston) and his eccentric sister Lucille (Jessica Chastain) when they arrive in America to drum up funds for their clay mines back in Cumberland. Thomas pursues and eventually marries Edith, and brings her home to Allerdale Hall. The moment he carries her across the threshold, the slightly thin plot is almost overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the set – Robert Wise could have only dreamed of something so theatrical back in 1963 when he made (to my mind, at least) the finest haunted house film, The Haunting.

Naturally married life does not go well, and Edith is soon seeing ghosts around the hall. She finds mysteries at every turn, and like the good stereotypical Gothic heroine that she is, begins investigating the dark past of the house. Exactly what makes the mad Lucille tick, will Thomas get his mining machine to work, and why is it so important that Edith drinks Lucille’s tea? Edith gets a little help in the form of Dr. Alan McMichael (Charlie Hunnam) who suspects that something isn’t quite right and treks all the way from Buffalo to Cumberland to give her a hand.

The plot is a little predictable, and it’s pretty much Gothic-by-numbers.

Family secrets? Check. Lonely heroine with no family to turn to? Check. Stolen keys for forbidden spaces? Check. Crazy relatives? Check. Crumbling old house? Check. About the only thing Crimson Peak doesn’t have is a mad housekeeper, but Jessica Chastain does her best to channel Rebecca‘s Mrs Danvers through her portrayal of the creepy sister. As much as I love Hiddleston, and he plays the tragic hero to marvellous effect here, Chastain stole the film for me, in all her eye-twitching, pursed lips magnificence. Allerdale Hall becomes a character in its own right, though the house itself is not really the decaying and threatening space I expected it to be – it’s not ‘evil’ like Wise’s Hill House. Instead it’s a reflection of its inhabitants.

Only two things let the film down for me. First off is the marketing of the film as a ghost story – as I said at the start of this review, it’s not, it’s a story with ghosts in it. Bit of a letdown, given del Toro’s past work (such as exemplary The Devil’s Backbone). Second is the casting of Wasikowska – she seems stuck in the same role she played in Jane Eyre and it doesn’t really work here. She manages to develop some pluck by the end of the film, and she displays resourcefulness throughout, but I found her difficult to warm to. She’s just not a likeable character and Wasikowska seems dwarfed by the scale of the film. Her ability to see ghosts seems hit-and-miss, only appearing when it suits the plot and seemingly forgotten in between.

Is it worth seeing?

I would say yes, as it’s visually stunning, and Hiddleston puts in an excellent non-Loki turn as Sir Thomas, while Chastain is a revelation as Lucille. Even Hunnam is fantastic as the solid, dependable doctor. Del Toro knows how to make glorious films and he’s still my favourite director in terms of vision and use of cinematic conventions.

But ignore some of the hype of the trailers – if you’re expecting spooky chills or things that go bump in the night you might be a little disappointed, and this is far more a thundering Gothic echo of stories past, rather than a novel reworking of supernatural classics.

I award Crimson Peak 4 curiosities out of 5.

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#FridayFlash – Halloween Surprise

“Are you ready, honey?”

“Almost.”

William adjusted his tie and smoothed down his hair with one hand. He grimaced at the oily feel of the gel Mary insisted he use.

His wife made her way down the stairs and the top step creaked. A halo of tight black curls surrounded her pale face, and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses balanced on her nose. A string of pearls drew his attention to her neck, that beautiful neck which first attracted him so many years before.

“Sweetheart, you look amazing!”

“Thank you, darling. You look rather handsome yourself. I love that look on you.” Mary smiled at him and twirled, giving him a better look at the pastel pink skirt suit she’d found in a thrift store.

“Then we’re ready?”

“Almost. I just need my treat bag.”

Mary darted into the kitchen, her heels clacking on the wooden floor. She returned carrying two plastic pumpkins with black handles, found in the bargain bin of the 24-hour supermarket over on Eighth Street. Mary handed one to William, and beamed.

Leaving the house, William thought of just how clever their costumes were. 1950s car salesman, and dutiful wife. Such a normal choice, so different from their normal selves. The Pattinsons would simply crack up.

“It’s quiet, isn’t it?” said Mary. She sniffed the cold night air and peered into the gloom ahead.

“Yeah. I thought all the neighbourhood kids would have been out trick or treating, or something,” replied William. Faint footsteps pattered behind them.

“It is late, I suppose. Maybe they’ve all gone home.”

A rustle made William glance at the dark bushes to their right. Four shapes melted out of the shadows, forming into gangly young men in front of them. The tallest, a buck-toothed youth with greasy blond hair and bad acne, stepped forward. He held a flick knife in his badly bandaged left hand.

“Money. Now.”

William and Mary exchanged a glance. The initial surprise on Mary’s face morphed into excitement. William suppressed a snigger.

“What’s so funny, Pops? Gimme your money, or I’ll cut ya.” The youth struggled to sound threatening but his voice squeaked.

“You’re supposed to say, ‘Trick or treat’, you fool.” Mary stepped towards him, suddenly seeming so much taller than her usual 5ft 3ins.

“What? Just give us your money.” A second youth spoke. He stood behind the first, lank black hair curling over the collar of his biker jacket.

Mary growled, a soft rumble rolling around her throat.

“Er, trick or treat?” The first youth took a tiny step backward. The knife trembled in his hand.

“Treat. For us!”

Mary pounced on the blond and knocked his knife to the ground. He hit the tarmac and cried out. She sank her fangs into his neck and his cry became a wet gurgle. His three accomplices fled screaming down the street. William watched them leave.

Mary looked up from the corpse, blood smeared across her face. She smiled at William and her eyes faded from yellow to green.

“Did you enjoy that?” he asked.

“Yes. I’ve had better, but he’ll do for now. Do you think they’ll tell anyone?”

“They’ll try, but who’ll believe them? Come on, let’s get rid of this as quick as we can. We don’t want to be late.”

Mary stood up, straightening her jacket. William bent to grasp the ankles of the body and dragged it behind them. He would dump it in the Pattinsons’ pond.

Image by Cindy.

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3 Ghost Stories Perfect For Halloween

The ghost has quietly sneaked into the twenty first century, making its presence felt as the Woman in Black stalked Daniel Radcliffe around a peeling Edwardian pile back in the 2012 movie by Hammer Films. I’m not talking about the Paranormal Activity model of low-budget demonic visitations dressed up to look like ghosts – I’m talking about supernatural spectres capable of bending space and time to suit their own spiritual ends.

This year we had the Poltergeist remake, which wasn’t as terrible as I’d expected, and most recently we’ve had the resounding success of Guillermo del Toro’s Crimson Peak. According to the Guardian, the ghost is back in literature in a big way too, with Gothic blockbusters coming thick and fast. Good old-fashioned chills abound!

So here are three ghost stories perfect for Halloween thrills!

‘The Signal-Man’ by Charles Dickens

Possibly the quintessential ghost story, ‘The Signal-Man’ is guaranteed to raise the hairs on your neck if you’re lucky enough to see/hear it performed – I saw it last year at Belsay Hall and you could have heard a pin drop.

‘The Signal-Man’ tells the tale of a hapless railwayman haunted by strange things that he has seen during the course of his duties. By telling his story to a passing gentleman, he ensures that the haunting will continue…and now Dickens has passed it to you too…

You can read the full text here.

‘The Yellow Wallpaper’ by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

This short story doesn’t exactly deal with ghosts of the usual variety; rather it deals with a haunting of a more psychological nature.

It’s a good reminder that not all ghosts float about rattling chains or going bump in the night.

Published in 1892, this short but exceedingly creepy story will have you looking at your walls in a very different way!

You can read the full text here.

‘The Mezzotint’ by MR James

No list of ghost stories would be complete without the inclusion of MR James, and ‘The Mezzotint’ is a particular favourite of mine.

As always, dusty and dry academics find their safe world interrupted by the weird and the wonderful, and this time it is the appearance of a mysterious mezzotint that appears to change every time they look at it. Can they work out what is going on in the picture?

You can read the full text here.

Have you read any of these? Which are your favourites and why?

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