Game Over Extract
The latest of my short stories is now available. Like all of the stories published in the Game Over anthology, It Was Beauty… is inspired by the arcade games of our youth (well, my youth). No prizes for guessing which game I picked as you will see from the extract below. Let me know in the comments which video game might inspire you to write a story.
About Game Over
In the cavern-like darkness of the arcade, the neon phosphor-glow of the screen beckons you close. Drawn to the dancing pixels like a moth to a flame, digging deep in your pocket you pull out a shiny coin and thumb it into the slot as the electronic siren sings the fanfare that marks your arrival. One hand on the joystick, the other splayed across the control buttons, your pulse begins to quicken.
Ready Player One
Press Start
You’ve barely begun but suddenly the discordant bleeps are trumpeting your failure as your 8-bit adventure comes to an abrupt end. At least in the world of the video arcade you get a second chance. But what is the true price you pay when you make a pact with the digital demon? There’s always another coin, an extra life to be earned, a second chance… Isn’t there?
GAME OVER
A dozen stories of creeping dread and savage horror inspired by the humble amusement arcade and the classic coin-ops of yesteryear. Twelve tales to chill your blood by twelve masters of the malevolent and the macabre.
Just keep reminding yourself, it’s only a game… Isn’t it?
Game Over is now available to purchase.
The first review is now on Amazon: “Creepily odd – if you like horror stories with an angle, or you enjoy arcade games, or remember those smelly places – then this is definitely for you.”
How long until Maurice arrived? How long had Marian already been there? He didn’t wear a wristwatch. On the other hand, he wasn’t going to look at his phone. The glow from the screen would be a sure-fire giveaway.
Would Maurice come alone?
The thought that he would not, that he would bring a platoon, a battalion, of General Klump’s soldiers, set a new fear jangling through Marian. What would they do when they arrived? He was just an air-con repairman; he wasn’t meant to know about cybernetically-boosted apes and off-the-books military projects. He probably wasn’t even supposed to know Maurice and Garry.
Where the hell was Pauline?
Movement destroyed all other thought. Uzuri rose from his haunches, two immense hands knuckling onto the lino as he turned.
The storage area exploded with noise. Screeches, wails, snarls, hissing, moans, gibbering and grunts obliterated any chance Marian had to hear the gorilla as Uzuri moved out of view behind a stainless steel bookshelf. Cages rattled, claws manically scratched, teeth scraped along bars in group desperation to be anywhere other than in the room with the modified gorilla.
Leaving? Coming closer?
Marian’s thought processes devolved to little more than survival instinct, the capacity to reason chased away by raw terror. The clamour made nails in his head, driving deep through synapses and ganglia to make even the simplest process painful – almost impossible. His heart, an organ already offended by years of greasy tacos, burger lunches and full cream coffee, was fit to burst in his chest. It screamed at him to use the blood exploding through his body.
Do what? Fight or flight? Fight or flight?
A hairy hand, knuckle-down, appeared at the end of the row of cages, just a few yards from Marian. It was followed by another.
Coming closer.
