Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   youngsters 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 CrossAdded: Nov 08 2006Views/Reads: 2728/1932Part 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 29 active stories on this site.
Profile for Brian Cross, incl. all stories
Email: briancroff@yahoo.co.uk

stories in "horror"   |   all stories by "Brian Cross"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy