Tag: horror

Felix

lazaruscarpenterauthor

Once upon a time, in a lush, green forest, there lived a clever fox named Felix. With his sleek, reddish coat and quick wit, Felix was known far and wide for his cunning ways. The local hounds and their masters were determined to catch him, but Felix always seemed to be one step ahead. One crisp autumn morning, the hounds were unleashed for a grand hunt. The scent of fallen leaves filled the air as the hunters called out, eager to track their elusive prey. Felix, sensing the impending chase, decided it was time to put his cleverness to the test. As the hounds began their pursuit, Felix darted through the underbrush, leading them on a wild chase. He zigzagged between trees, leapt over brooks, and scurried through thickets, always out of reach. Fueled by their instincts, the hounds followed eagerly, their barks echoing through the woods.

Felix soon spotted a nearby river with a narrow crossing. An idea sparked in his mind. He raced to the riverbank, splashed through the water, and cleverly jumped onto a large, flat stone. As he stood there, he turned around to watch the hounds approach. When the first hound reached the river, it hesitated, unsure how to cross. With a glint in his eye, Felix began to howl mockingly, imitating the sound of the hounds. This trick confused the pack, causing them to pause and look back at their masters, who were urging them onward. Taking advantage of their hesitation, Felix darted back into the forest, leaving the hounds barking in frustration. He quickly climbed a steep hill, where he could see the entire valley below. As the hounds scrambled to find a way across the river, Felix sat atop the hill, watching the commotion unfold.

Realizing the hounds were losing their momentum, he devised one final plan. He found a nearby meadow filled with tall grass and wildflowers. With great care, he rolled in the grass to mask his scent and then lay still, blending in with the natural surroundings. When the hounds finally figured out how to cross the river, they began sniffing around, looking for Felix. One by one, they passed by the meadow where he lay hidden, their noses twitching in confusion. Felix couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as the hounds, exhausted and frustrated, moved further away, convinced they had lost their quarry. After a while, the hunters called off the chase, realizing Felix had outsmarted them again. With the sun setting behind the trees, Felix emerged from his hiding spot, proud and triumphant. He scampered back to his den, knowing he had once again fooled the hounds and the hunt.

Tales of Felix’s cleverness spread throughout the forest. The hounds learned to respect the cunning fox, and Felix continued to enjoy his freedom, always ready for the next adventure in the wild, beautiful woods. 

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The Magic Crucifix’s

lazaruscarpenterauthor

In the heart of ancient Babylon, beneath the sprawling ziggurats and bustling markets, a pair of crucifixes lay hidden, each imbued with mystical powers. These artefacts, forged when magic and the divine intertwined, were said to grant their bearers extraordinary abilities—healing, knowledge, and the gift of tongues.

The first crucifix was discovered by a humble healer named Isha. While searching for rare herbs in the sacred gardens, she stumbled upon the crucifix half-buried in the earth, its surface glimmering with an otherworldly light. As she picked it up, a surge of energy coursed through her, and she felt an ancient wisdom fill her mind. From that moment, she could mend wounds with a mere touch and cure ailments that had plagued her village for generations. Word of Isha’s miraculous abilities spread like wildfire, drawing the attention of kings and scholars alike. With her newfound power, she travelled far and wide, teaching others the art of healing and sharing the knowledge that flowed through her. Yet, she remained grounded, using her gifts to uplift her community and protect those in need.

Meanwhile, the second crucifix found its way into the hands of a wandering scholar named Kadir. He stumbled upon it in the ruins of a forgotten temple, hidden among dusty scrolls and crumbling stones. As he lifted the crucifix, he felt an immediate connection to the world’s ancient languages. Words flowed into his mind, enabling him to understand and speak any tongue. With this gift, Kadir travelled to distant lands, bridging cultures and sharing his stories.

The paths of Isha and Kadir eventually intertwined when they met at a great festival in Babylon, where people from across the known world had gathered. Recognizing the power they both held, they formed a bond, vowing to use their gifts in harmony. Together, they created a sanctuary where knowledge and healing could flourish, teaching others the importance of understanding and compassion. As the years passed, the crucifixes changed hands many times, each new bearer adding to their legacy. They were passed down through generations, from a wise queen who united warring tribes to a brave warrior who healed his comrades on the battlefield. Each bearer, touched by the crucifixes’ magic, spread the gifts of healing, knowing, and language far and wide, transforming lives and connecting disparate cultures.

However, the crucifixes also attracted the attention of those with darker intentions. A powerful sorcerer sought to claim them for himself, believing that he could dominate the world with their magic. He unleashed chaos across the land, causing fear and division. But the bond between those who held the crucifixes—now a lineage of healers and scholars—remained strong. With courage and unity, they faced the sorcerer, combining their powers. Isha’s healing light and Kadir’s eloquence inspired the people to rise against the darkness. In a climactic battle, the sorcerer was defeated, his ambitions thwarted by the gifts he sought to control. The crucifixes, glowing with renewed energy, restored balance to the world.

As centuries passed, the story of the crucifixes became a legend. They were a testament to the enduring power of compassion, knowledge, and connection. Though the artefacts themselves faded into myth, their essence lived on in the hearts of those who believed in the magic of healing and understanding, reminding future generations that true power lies not in domination but in unity and love. 

James Herbert

lazaruscarpenterauthor

James Herbert (1943-2013) was a renowned British author who made significant contributions to the horror genre with his chilling and suspenseful novels. Born in London, England, Herbert began his writing career in the 1970s and quickly gained popularity for his unique storytelling style, which blended horror, suspense, and supernatural elements. One of Herbert’s most notable works is “The Rats” (1974), a novel that follows a series of gruesome attacks by mutant rats on the inhabitants of London. This book, along with its sequels, established Herbert as a master of horror fiction and garnered him a devoted following of readers who were drawn to his vivid descriptions of terror and his ability to create a palpable sense of fear.

Throughout his career, James Herbert penned over 23 novels, including bestsellers like “The Fog” (1975), “The Dark” (1980), and “Haunted” (1988). His books often featured graphic depictions of violence and horror, pushing the boundaries of the genre and captivating audiences with their fast-paced plots and intense imagery. Herbert’s influence on the horror genre is undeniable. His works continue to be celebrated for their ability to evoke deep-seated fears and provoke a sense of unease in readers. His legacy as a master storyteller lives on through his novels, which have been translated into numerous languages and continue to captivate new generations of horror enthusiasts. My own personal favourite is ‘The Magic Cottage’.

James Herbert’s impact on the world of literature is profound, and his name remains synonymous with the essence of fear and suspense in horror fiction. His legacy as a trailblazer in the genre endures, and his works stand as a testament to his unparalleled talent for crafting tales that linger in the mind long after the final page is turned.

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A Tale for Halloween – Legend of Whitaker House

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In the quaint town of Willow Creek, the legend of the Whitaker House had woven itself into the fabric of local folklore. On a moonless Halloween night, the wind howled through the barren trees, carrying the tales of the past. The mansion stood at the edge of the woods, its silhouetted form looming ominously against the dark sky. The townspeople avoided it, their imaginations haunted by stories of Eliza Whitaker, the young girl who vanished one fateful Halloween night decades ago. Despite the warnings, five adventurous teenagers, Jack, Lily, Sam, Emma, and Tom, decided to test their courage by entering the infamous house. Armed with flashlights, they approached the mansion; its grandeur faded, the windows boarded up, and ivy crawled over its stone facade.

As they stepped inside, the air turned frigid, and the scent of decay filled their nostrils. The door creaked ominously behind them, closing with a resounding thud. The group exchanged nervous glances but pressed on, their footsteps echoing through the dusty corridors. They split up to explore, each taking a different path through the labyrinthine interior. Jack and Lily entered the parlour, where cobwebs draped over antique furniture. A grand piano stood in one corner, its keys yellowed and silent. A haunting melody filled the air as Lily ran her fingers across the keys, though her hands never moved. Meanwhile, Sam and Tom found themselves in a dimly lit library, its shelves lined with ancient tomes. A heavy book lay open on a table, its pages filled with Eliza’s diary entries. As they read, a chill swept through the room. Eliza had written of hearing voices, whispers calling her to the forest, and a shadowy figure that appeared in her dreams.

Emma, exploring alone, stumbled upon the attic stairs. Curiosity getting the better of her, she ascended into the darkness. The attic was cluttered with forgotten relics and dusty trunks. There, she found a tarnished mirror, its surface cloudy. As she peered into it, the reflection shifted, revealing a young girl in a white gown, her eyes pleading. Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the house, drawing the group back together. They converged in the hallway, their breaths visible in the freezing air. The house seemed to pulse with a life of its own, the walls groaning as if in pain. Determined to uncover the truth, they followed a trail of cold air leading to a hidden door behind a tattered tapestry. Pushing it open, they descended a narrow staircase into a forgotten basement. The air was damp and heavy, and the flickering light of their flashlights revealed a room filled with old toys and a small bed. A porcelain doll eerily resembling Eliza stood in the corner, its eyes glinting in the darkness. As they approached, the temperature dropped further, and a translucent and sorrowful spectral figure emerged. It was Eliza, her voice a mere whisper.

“You must help me,” she implored. I am trapped between worlds.”

The teens realized that Eliza’s spirit was bound to the house, unable to move on. Determined to help, they formed a circle, holding hands as they recited a passage from her diary, hoping to free her soul. As they chanted, the room filled with a blinding light, the walls trembling as if resisting the ritual. The ground shook violently, and the whispers grew into a deafening roar. Shadows writhed around them, and the dolls in the room seemed to come alive, their faces twisted in anguish. But the teens held firm, their voices rising above the chaos. The light exploded outward with a final, heart-stopping crescendo, and the mansion fell silent. The oppressive cold lifted, and Eliza’s spirit appeared before them, her face serene.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her form dissolving into shimmering light.

The group fled the basement, racing through the now-silent house and into the night. Behind them, the Whitaker House stood still, its aura of menace gone. They vowed to keep Eliza’s story alive, a reminder of the power of compassion and courage. Every Halloween, the townsfolk would gather, sharing the tale of the brave teens who freed Eliza Whitaker’s spirit, ensuring her legend would be told for generations to come. And though the house remained empty, the haunting whispers ceased, leaving only the echoes of a past finally at peace. 

Image by Gill Brooks

The Monster with the Big Heart

lazaruscarpenterauthor

Once upon a time, in a mystical forest shrouded in ancient secrets and whispers of old, a monster lived unlike any other. This monster was feared by all who dwelled nearby, for its appearance was terrifying, with sharp fangs, claws as long as swords, and eyes that glowed like fiery embers in the darkness. Tales of its ferocity and insatiable hunger spread far and wide, striking fear into the hearts of all who heard them. However, most did not know this monster, despite its fearsome exterior, possessed a heart as big as the moon in the night sky. It longed for companionship, understanding, and acceptance, but no one dared approach it, for they only saw the monster’s monstrous form and not the gentle soul that lay within.

One day, a young child lost in the forest stumbled upon the monster’s lair. Trembling with fear, the child expected the worst, but to their surprise, the monster did not attack. Instead, it looked at the child with eyes full of sadness and loneliness. Sensing the monster’s true nature, the child reached out a hand in friendship. To the amazement of both, the monster hesitantly extended a clawed hand in return, its massive form crouching down to the child’s level. From then on, an unlikely bond formed between the two, built on trust, kindness, and understanding. The monster’s true nature began to shine through as days turned into weeks and weeks into months. It showed compassion for the forest creatures, protecting them from harm and helping those in need. The once-feared monster became a guardian, a friend to all who called the forest their home.

Word of the monster with a big heart spread far and wide, and soon, creatures from near and far came to seek its wisdom and guidance. The monster, now known not for its fearsome appearance but for its compassionate soul, welcomed them all with open arms.
And so, the monster with a big heart found acceptance, love and friendship in a world that once shunned it. Its legend lived on for generations to come, a reminder that true beauty lies not in appearances but in the kindness and love that reside within us all.

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