Excerpt from The Occupants of Heathstone House
CAROLE GILL'S HOUSE OF HORRORS
"Then
at last I saw a turret rising above the bleak woods. “We
are nearly there!” I cried. We
were for we were already in sight of the house and so near to the sad occupants
within.
Heathstone
House was now coming fully into sight--Heathstone with the last two of its
accursed line, the brother and sister Jeremiah and Christine, former playmates
of mine. Well perhaps that is not the right term, for I was not really a child
but only childlike.
None
of us can help what we are, and I could not, though I wished I could. Still
it was enough for me to play with them and visit them undetected. They
called me their secret playmate and I was, comforting them as much as I could
for no one else did. It
was the children’s desire to die which brought me to that lonely nursery all
those years ago.
“Please
take us,” they begged.
“But
you are children,” I answered. “Children should not wish to die!”
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EDITORIAL REVIEW:
“I fear we too are dying, for we live with madness.” The nightmarishly beautiful prose is but one reason to venture into the unnerving catacombs of House of Horrors, an anthology of short genre excursions by the indomitable Carole Gill.
From a storm-shrouded lighthouse to the foggy realms of haunted forests and even a jaunt through Whitechapel, Carole Gill lulls you into her Gothic web, masterfully weaving for you a series of nightmarish tales to unease your dreary nights. She is the contemporary incarnation of the storyteller at the fire, and we gather in the light of the flickering flame wide-eyed and eager to listen.
Joshua Skye
DARK MEDIA
Horror shorts in the footsteps of Edgar Allan Poe
C. Gaydas
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