Terror in the Shadows Vol. 1: Horror Short Stories Collection with Scary Ghosts, Paranormal & Supernatural Monsters by A.I. Nasser & Ron Ripley & Sara Clancy & David Longhorn & Scare Street

Author:A.I. Nasser & Ron Ripley & Sara Clancy & David Longhorn & Scare Street [Nasser, A.I.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: ScareStreet.com
Published: 2018-07-27T16:00:00+00:00

***

“There’s nothing wrong with me, discussion over!” bellowed Strode as Gary Marlow started to ask him how he was.

“But, boss,” Marlow persisted. “Maybe I should drive you into town. Just in case.”

“It was not a stroke, just a minor seizure brought on by too much work,” said Strode, snapping his fingers.

Reluctantly, Marlow handed over the keys to a silver BMW. As Strode drove them into Newcastle, he fired off a string of questions. By the time they had arrived at Eastgate Road, Strode had arrived to the conclusion that he was one of the few true grown-ups alive in the world today.

Most of them are just kids, he thought. No guts, scared of their own shadows, easily fooled by daft stories. No wonder I always win.

“So they all ran away because of this ghost?” asked Strode, cutting into Marlow’s long, rambling account of the last and greatest delay.

“Yes, boss,” said Marlow meekly. “There were noises, things were seen.”

“You see ‘em?”

Marlow could not meet his boss’s gaze, stared out at the facade of the new shopping mall.

“I saw something I can’t explain. And the noises—”

“Just shut up before I give you your cards!” grated Strode. “Right, let’s have a look at the haunted car park, shall we?”

The BMW swung onto the ramp down into the Brutalist concrete structure, taking them out of the autumn sunshine into chilling shadow. Marlow grew quiet, shrank down in his seat, started to play nervously with his tie.

“Stop fidgeting!” snapped Strode. “We’ve got an appointment with that old bag, the trustee woman. Do you want to look weak in front of some kind of intellectual? Those wankers despise people like us, the wealth creators! We need to show them how strong we are.”

Marlow sat up a little straighter, locked his fingers together in his lap. But Strode saw perspiration running down his subordinate’s forehead, despite the coolness of the vast underground space.

Isadora Mountford was leaning against her tiny Fiat on the lowest level. Strode pulled up alongside her. Out of habit, he angled the big car so that it almost covered two spaces. When Strode got out, Marlow stayed put in the passenger seat.

“Doctor, good of you to come,” said Strode, not offering to shake hands. Instead, he took a gun fighting stance, legs apart, in front of the academic. “I want you to settle a little dispute I’ve been having with my boy here.”

Strode jerked his head back at the BMW.

“I don’t have time for games, Mister Strode,” said Mountford. “Why did you summon me to this monstrosity?”

“To help lay a ghost!” replied Strode. He raised his arms and turned to face away from the woman, yelling out into the shadowy void. “To tell little Tommy to get stuffed!”

Mountford snorted delicately. But her hands, like Marlow’s, were fidgeting, twisting a large onyx ring.

“Seriously,” said Strode, “I don’t need some bastard who died when Queen Victoria was still a hottie ruining my business. So I’m here to cut a deal. You know the story, what will it take to get rid of the troublesome boy?”

“You believe in ghosts, now?” asked Mountford.

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