Category Archives: Short Stories

A collection of my own short stories.

Casey’s Crown

There are some distant church bells chiming across the foggy moors, ghostly songs are being sung, songs of a thousand years.  Casey is chilled to the bone; her grey shredded shawl flaps clumsily around her, making her image seem fragmented in the distance.  The ghostly song soon turns into evil menacing laughter and in the distance, a carousel spins, the decorative horse eyes that surround the carousel in their beautiful jewels and golden poles are aglow.  A demonic voice beckons Casey to go forwards, towards the carousel, welcoming her to the fair, welcoming her to sights never seen before, welcoming her to yield to the desires of them from the unknown.

Tentatively she steps forwards towards them, compelled by their magic.  Her footsteps are soft and delicate like tiny faeries dancing on the petals of roses so softly that the petals are unharmed.  Casey soon notices that her grey and brown rags are changing, but she doesn’t care, she just carries on towards the demonic fair, tip toeing like a ballerina in jade silk slippers.  Her clothes are turning into beautiful jade and gold coloured silks and white laces, her muddy hands are transformed to the hands of a beautiful clean lady, her fingers slender and rich, her nails polished and long… she is not Casey any more, she doesn’t know who she is turning into, but the feeling is glorious.  The demons at the fair cannot be seen nor heard any more.  There is a strong looking soldier standing by the carousel on guard – but Casey is not sure of what he is guarding.  He salutes Casey and a fanfare then erupts around them, an unseen army is marching she senses, not far behind the carousel, playing a robust brass band as they go along. 

A smell of roses accentuates the air around her.  Then, in the clearing of the fog, as she walks around the carousel, she sees them, the marching brass band and their soldiers in tow of a beautiful gilded litter carriage.  Peering into the window of the litter carriage Casey saw a beautiful young woman, in a golden gown with jade jewels bestrewed around her, her hair is unseen for it is covered by a beautiful jade scarf.  The woman, of which Casey presumes to be a queen, waves her hand towards a man presumably a steward to open the carriage door.  He does so, he calls to the soldiers in the band to halt and abruptly the music stops and all is still.  The Queen descends her carriage gracefully and on tippy toes walks elegantly towards Casey and takes hold of her shoulders, smiling sweetly down at her.  She is a pretty lady, very sweet and tender looking, like a mother attending to her infant.  Slowly the Queen stands aside and gently pushes Casey towards the opened carriage door and placing her crown upon Casey’s head, then walks away from Casey, slowly turning into a rag ridden young urchin and disappearing into the fog.  Confused Casey stays looking back into the fog for the queen, tentatively feeling for her crown, it felt strange upon her.  

The above story is a shortened version of a novelization I am working on and have been working on since May 2017. 

I wanted it to be a series of horror books, because Casey will have adventures and will lead into adventures of new characters along the way.  The thing is, I am not sure how many books this will potentially be or whether or not they will ever be completed, so I felt that it would be relatively safe to post this up on the blog.

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snippet 2

It was midnight and Sophie was brushing her lush brown hair that she had just taken out of her beautiful bun and her eyes became heavy, ready for sleep, when she caught a glimpse of a little girl in a cobalt blue dress at the corner of her eye reflected in the mirror in front of her.

Sophie started for a moment and looked behind her, but the little girl had gone.  She shrugged this off as a sleepy hallucination and continued brushing her hair.

Crash went the vase at the other end of the bedroom, smashing into pieces on the floor making Sophia stand up in a start.

What on earth caused that?  She thought.  She started to become anxious, alone in the house with no children of her own and no pets for the cause.  She decided to get downstairs fast to phone her husband who was on his nightshift at Donaldi’s a restaurant in town.

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Shortest story ever written by me

The fog was seen rolling over the city like some predatory animal swallowing up thousands of people in one fair scoop at a time like some giant anteater.  Within five minutes the city was bare.

Everyone had gone, dead, eaten by this thing, this cloud and I could only watch in horror from a safe distance, sitting on a hill.

 

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Snippet 2016 = 1

Relaxed, lounging on the cream velvet chaise lounge dressed in a gold silk dress she smoked from her cigarette extension listening to adagio for strings on full volume, watching the city below her closing down for the night.

Her man, not far from her was helping himself to another glass of whiskey quietly and thoughtfully.

Years has past she thought to herself, years they have seen mortals below them come and go in their petty little lives, lives that they needed and not any of them ever questioned how long they’ve stayed in the area and how they’ve never changed, not even a spot.

Funny creatures she thought to herself.

Such potential though, their talents are wasted on their greed and their dramas, if only they knew.

Finally she broke the silence.

“Are you hunting tonight darling”? She said to the man behind her.

“I hadn’t thought of it, why are you hungry then my dear”?  He enquired.

Now I understand that this snippet is full of adverbs and mistakes, but this is what I do when I am between writing actual stories.  I just sit and I write random stuff and the most frustrating thing is that on Facebook I have many friends who are writers and I ask them questions like “do you do this too”?  They never answer me.  So am I alone in how I write?  Or do all writers sit down with a plan?

Also understand that this is a first draft and is not part of a planned story, it was just something I wanted to get out of my head and I couldn’t go any further with.

 

 

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Rabbit Cage

The package had finally arrived and I opened it with excitement – I was so happy for my bunny, the cage he had was too small for the so-called dwarf, he’d outgrown it so much it was almost bordering cruel to keep him in the damn thing. That’s the thing with pet shops isn’t it? You can never trust what they say; our female dwarf rabbit became as big as a cat and turned out to be a male.
Moshi was his name, a big fat white rabbit with big floppy lop ears and despite what they say about rabbits and carrots he hated them! Couldn’t coax him to eat a carrot for his life!
Poor thing…
I got my husband to open the package with his craft knife as I didn’t want to slice myself to pieces, it was perfect, but we wasn’t quite ready just yet to get the rabbit to move into his new home, so we propped the cage up against the wall of the utility room until we had the time.
Later on, just before bed-time I decided to move the laundry from the washing machine to the dryer when I saw a shadow moving near the cage. The cage rocked slightly, but I shrugged it off as a breeze that was getting in through the backdoor as it was picking up a wind outside.
I continued to move the clothes and then I heard the cat shriek and run off the washing machine and out the cat flap into the garden. Odd, she never goes out after dark, I thought. I decided to open the backdoor and ask Lissy (our cat) what was wrong? Then I heard a loud crash, looked behind me and saw that the cage gate had opened wide and seemed to have moved slightly out of place. Wearily I went back in the house through the backdoor, constantly keeping my eye on the cage, I saw more shadows around the cage and on in the inside, but I thought perhaps it was my imagination? Perhaps it was only my shadow and the holly tree outside in the moonlight reflecting?
I locked the backdoor and left Lissy outside, she could always come in the way she went out if she wanted to. I heard the sound of a low growl as I went past the cage, it weirded me out. I straightened the cage the best I could, but decided to turn the cage gate towards the wall to prevent it popping open again. As I did this, I felt a cold icy mist around me, but there was nothing there. I also felt something touch my arm as I shut the cage, like something was stopping me. Terrified I half ran out of the utility room to bed and told my husband what had happened.
“No more horror stories for you tonight I think” he said, and took my Stephen King novel away from me and turned the light out, kissed me and laid down to sleep.
Needless to say I couldn’t rest, but eventually I drifted off into a sleep.
I dreamed and in this dream I was compelled to go back to the utility room and when I did, I saw that the backdoor had been opened and the cat was mewling outside crazily and the rabbit hutch shredded on one side and ripped open on the other. I saw blood everywhere, I walked closer and closer to the hutch to see what had happened, but just as I opened the lid of the hutch to peer down, I woke up!
It was morning and I was greeted with a kiss by my husband as always. I told him I had a nightmare and he said to me he wasn’t surprised with all those horror stories and what happened before I went to bed last night.
I said to him “I’ll go and make coffee then”. He simply replied “that would be great”.
I went to the kitchen as usual and saw I had left the utility room door opened. I went to shut it, but noticed the cage was wide opened again and had turned around to face the back door, the door of which was opened!
As I gasped at the sight, I saw another shadow and low laughs, then the cage shut itself.
I stood stunned at the cage and my husband came down and saw me. He kissed me again and said that he would feed the rabbit this morning as I am working myself up about this cage.
I couldn’t move, I had a deep grinding sick feeling low down in my abdomen and an ache of concern at what could have happened? Was my dream real in some surreal way?
My husband came into the kitchen, his face unchanged, he directed me to a chair and sat down next to me and said “Moshi’s dead”. I instantly stood up and started crying.
My hands were in my face and I was marching on the spot with tears streaming down my face. “Oh no, my poor baby, he has been ripped to shreds, it’s the cage, the cage has killed my rabbit, oh I can’t bear to see the blood”.
My husband took me in his arms and tried his best to comfort me.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t be silly, the cage didn’t do this, there was no blood. Looked like he died peacefully in his sleep”; He said, stroking my hair.
“He did”? I asked, looking for more reassurance.
He nodded.
“I have to go see him, it’s so strange he is too young and showed no signs of being ill”. Just as I went to go and see for myself, my husband pulled me back and looked at me firmly and with a voice of stern seriousness said; “That would not be a good idea”.
Quizzically I looked at him. “Why? You said there was no blood”?
“He is in that stereotypical watership down pose, love; I don’t want you seeing that”. From the expression on my husband’s face, I didn’t want to find out whether he was telling the truth or not. So I sat back down, stunned.
“I am going to destroy that cage, May”. He said and I just nodded.
The cage was smashed in and sent to the landfill, on the way back my husband had an accident. Nothing fatal, but it was like they were saying…
“We’ll be back”…
Story inspired by true events but with a fantasy twist.
Because I felt guilty about the new rabbit cage and then two days after buying it the rabbit died, I felt something bad about the cage before he died. I sense something uneasy about it – I have some kind of clairvoyance skills, I have very spiritual leanings and I just sensed something bad about the package when I opened it. My imagination ran riot about the cage, particularly when the rabbit died two days later and the rabbit was meant to have been moved into the cage (he never was, I started to imagine that there was a portal in the cage and that some kind of demon came out and harmed my rabbit – but that’s the mind of a writer isn’t it? We are often irrational creatures.

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Spectral Vampire

I tiptoed through the shadows, stalking him and he didn’t know I was there. Light-footed, my steps traced the line of his footsteps down the darkened pathway towards the car-park; gently I called to him, nothing more than a whisper in the breeze of the night and he turned towards me, he didn’t see me at first, but then, just like a cat, I stealthily approached him and made my excuses to ask for directions to keep his guard down.
He came to me and leaned towards me, nodding at the map in my hands and pointing helpfully, but all I was interested in was clenching my thirst and hunger and grabbing at him around his neck and pulling him close to me. After I was sure he was in my grasp I did so and dropping the map that was in my hands I bit into his neck for the warm sweet juices that flowed within. I barely drank away half of his life until we were disturbed by something brash, violent and fast, coming out from the car-park at us with beams of painful light. The old jeep of my enemy Neil Porter swerved up behind my victim and ran out towards me, I instantly tried to flee the scene but he had a new weapon, something I wasn’t aware he had – a crossbow and it hit into me through the back and into my heart and before I knew it I was standing next to my broken shell, seeing it bleeding to death alongside my victim and my enemy cleaning up both the mess he made and the mess I made.
I was confused at first; watching him packing the bodies away into the back of his jeep, washing the blood on the car-park floor and praying for our souls.
I don’t know where I went after that, I don’t know if spirits sleep, I just went and came back again, nothing filling the gaps; this went on for a long time, each time I would arrive at the scene I last left, each time I would arrive as hungry as the night before and each time I would vanish into the ether of the unknown again and again and again.
I would like to tell you about the first night that I came back.
I came back to the car-park, confused at the new night, wondering where I went and how I got here again. Why here? That question never got answered. I walked through the car-park and across the pedestrian crossing and into the park, I sat on a bench for a while, collecting my thoughts. A few people walked passed me, but no one seemed to be able to see me, someone nearly sat on me that’s how I know. When this happened I felt a deep loss, a sense I had lost my self somehow, I knew I wasn’t whole anymore, I saw that yesterday, but I had hoped that death would have been kinder to me somehow.
My hunger grew to an unbearable level, standing up from the bench I walked further into the park and had hoped to go through to the gates at the other end of the park that lead me to the town’s most night friendly amenities, but I was stopped by some peculiar young girl, twenty something, sniffing the air, smiling and dancing like she was chasing butterflies and coming straight towards me. Right into the jaws of death, so it seemed.
Confused I watched her with both bafflement and caution as she laughed and spoke out loud to herself “Oh the lovely smell” and reaching up into the air trying to catch something invisible even to me! The hunger in me made me retch; I tried to ignore it, because I was dead right? Dead people don’t need to eat do they? So why have I got this hunger? Is this my eternal punishment? Am I in Hell? But the pain got too much; I took a chance that perhaps I can still feed in my spectral form? So, as her head was stretched up looking high around her I put my arm around her waist and lunged into her throat but I couldn’t feed on her blood, her body writhed in agony in my grasp, screaming, but her blood wasn’t soothing my hunger. I held her whilst she screamed, cried and bleed to death. Then I knew, I saw her life leave her and as I sniffed for her suffering, I breathed a little of her into myself and my hunger lessened. Her spirit was too fast for me to catch once I realised what it was that I now needed. How beautiful the feeling of peace was, when I breathed in her soul.
Shortly after a man came into the park and saw the girl lying in a pool of blood, he ran to her to see if she was OK and tried to raise an alarm, but I went to him and my scent side-tracked him from his alarm call as he stopped in mid-sentence and started to sniff the air dreamily around himself. I placed my hand over his nose and mouth and whispered comforting things to him whilst I suffocated him to death. He didn’t see me, he only felt and heard me. He died within minutes of oxygen deprivation and I kissed his life out of him and felt in paradise.
That’s when I knew that vampires don’t find peace. That’s when I knew that being a vampire I am truly eternal and that’s when I knew that nothing can be explained simply.

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Conversation with a tree

copyright 2016 Tina Cousins

copyright 2016 Tina Cousins

I had a conversation with a tree today.
The tree told me about the deforestation that his friends were experiencing in some parts of the forest.
He told me that this didn’t bother him much, you see, you have to see the positives of life; that even in death, there is everlastingness.
I asked him what he meant and he explained that nothing that dies is wasted, not truly. Even in death you have your uses, you are needed, and you still exist.
I asked about spirits and reincarnation to him, but he simply replied, perhaps, but there is more to it than that.
Take me, for instance, said the tree. When the woodcutters come to claim my life, I may still have my roots to keep me alive, but if that isn’t to be the case, you must think. What do the woodcutters make from me? Wood to burn to enhance their life for a few hours so they do not freeze to death in winter? Then I become ashes and what becomes of those ashes? Those ashes are still a part of the wonderful circle of life; I become potash for various floras, bringing life into this world, simply by my dying.
I sat fascinated and watched the wind rustle his leaves, too in awe to speak.
The tree continued on with his explanation, with patience and love. I am made into paper, for your journal, enriching the lives of humans by whatever the pages contain within, a store of knowledge, a canvas for art, a visual guide to places you may never have a chance to go to if it weren’t for me.
If not a book then shelves to put them on or I might become the chair that you sit in to read those books, or the bed that you lie in to dream about those books and art pieces.
I may become part of the tools that cut my friends down, giving them a new lease of life and usefulness.
When I am gone and I am cut down, homes may be built in place of where I stood. Perhaps farms will develop here and feed the world? Or perhaps my offspring will grow in my place?
Death is not the end, but it is the beginning of new things.
As to the subject raised earlier, yes, I do believe in spirit and I believe that with the spirit of nature everything is eternal; it just depends on your perception of it; of course, most people’s perceptions about it are wrong.
They cloud themselves up in the dark negativity of everything, which they don’t allow themselves to see the light and what a positive thing it can be.
I thanked the tree for his insight and went home to write this for you.

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Cold Sands (introduction)

Windy, grey and cold was the weather that day, the cold wet sand beneath Rebecca’s bare feet felt oddly comforting to her. Trying to warm herself in vain with folded arms rubbing her shoulders, standing in nothing but a renaissance style under-dress, she watched the horizon intently as though focusing on something approaching, but there was nothing and nor was she really expecting there to be.
She could hear them coming behind her – her family and her maidservant, calling out to her to get inside and put some clothes on, as she might catch her death of cold; but she looked on and the nearer they got, the further towards the sea she walked as though hypnotized by some demonic siren.
Intrigued to find out what happens next? Like this post and if I get 10 likes by the 20th November I will make a story for you.
Thank you, enjoy!

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Kelpie

Glaring lights, pale as death, call you and me.

Dancing through the leaves of the night, dancing around the willows and the oak, hearing the sounds of mysticism in an endless voice of hope:

What is it that we evoke?

Rushing through the air of the night, filling our souls with curious delight; the moon shines upon us as we run after thee, O what can you be? What can you be?

The silver of the night can be what you are or a guiding star? Yes a guiding star!

You took us from our campsite when the air was chilled and harsh – you made us run bare footed across the country grass!

Nightly dew soaks our wandering feet and we search for where you go. Roaming free like a bird in the sky you fly, through the leaves of the trees in the night!

But we remain warm with your charms dear light.

Running endlessly we wonder where you take us. Miles and miles it seems… we run through the fields and past the stream, this feels like a wonderful dream!

Pure is your light of wonder, warm is your glow, but where do you take us, where do you go?

What are you which we evoke?

Faster and faster you run wild and free, past the streams and the tree’s and we run faster along with thee.

We hear a mystical voice again, calling like a choir, calling our names to follow still, even though the night is chilled!

Brighter and faster the light becomes running through the corn. We follow and run helplessly we become most forlorn!
The light has gone! The light has gone!

O where are we now?

As if it was all a dream we suddenly awake from the hypnotising light we are in the lake… we are in the lake.
Drowning, mourning sorrowfully, we cry and call for help. But all that hears our calls this night is the old mythical creature the Kelps!

All we do now is yelp and yelp!!!

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Vampires dope

One little dance in the moonlight

One little gleam of hope

One little life just taken

Blood is the vampires dope

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