A Little Bit Horror, Volumes 1-4: A Collection Of Fourteen Short Stories

By Juliet Boyd

This book is a compilation of the first four volumes of A Little Bit Horror. The fourteen stories cover everything from fairy tales to zombies, life after death to the monsters hidden in the shadows and many other things in between. A collection for the person who likes their horror stories varied and told with a touch of humour.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Juliet Boyd
• Release date: Feb 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301295357

Juliet Boyd

Juliet lives in Somerset in the south-west of England. She used to work in administration, but now writes full-time. Her main writing interests are fantasy, science fiction, weird fiction, horror and flash fiction. Details of her work are available on her website.

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A LITTLE BIT HORROR, VOLUMES 1-4

A collection of fourteen short stories

Juliet Boyd

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2013 Juliet Boyd, all rights reserved.

Discover Juliet Boyd at Smashwords.com

This book is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and events portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locations, is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

CONTENTS

CAUSE AND EFFECT

FOREVER BY THE DAY

NUTRITION

BAD THINGS USUALLY COME IN THREES

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU DREAM

BENEATH THE SNOW

THE UNDEAD PRINCE

ELEVEN

INTERVIEW WITH THE DEVIL

WHAT THE EYE CANNOT SEE

WITHIN THE SHADOWS

SCULPTED

THE TESTING PIT

THAT VOICE AGAIN

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CAUSE AND EFFECT

Carl lifted his head up from the cold, hard surface. The room was pitch black. He could hear the sound of soft breathing, but nothing else. His mind began to race through the possibilities. If this was heaven it certainly wasn't how he had imagined it – that would have been fluffy white clouds, brilliant sunshine and gentle harp music in the background. But neither was it hell's fire and brimstone, although it did feel rather warm and clammy.

He was sure that he must be dead. He remembered quite clearly the truck coming at him head on and the sound of scraping metal as the bonnet of the car was sliced off by the truck's bumper, but that was the point at which it went blank. He was quite glad he didn't remember anything more, because playing that kind of thing over and over again in his head certainly would be hell. It hadn't been the best ever ending he'd had to a first date, that was for sure, and he didn't even want to consider what Kerry's fate might have been.

He pushed himself up to his feet and tentatively moved forwards a couple of steps. He needed to find a light and sort out where he was once and for all, but he had the unnerving feeling that he was somehow high up and that one false move would send him careering over a precipice – he had never been good with heights. He took one more step. Carl was wise to be wary as he could now feel an edge beneath his foot, but he was just about to take a step back when something completely unexpected happened. It was the whoosh he noticed first, just before a solid lump clunked into his head and his body began to fly through the air. And then everything stopped.

When Carl woke up again he was back where he had started. He was sure of it because of the shiny texture of the surface beneath him. That was odd. A little bit too Groundhog Day for his liking. But if he was really replaying the time over again his head wouldn't hurt. And his head did hurt. A lot. He wasn't sure what had hit him, but it was very hard and very deliberate. Someone, or some thing, didn't want him there – wherever there was.

He could still hear the sound of breathing, but there was also something decidedly more mechanical in the background, like the buzz of a small motor, and it was getting nearer. Carl decided it was best to remain completely still until he knew exactly what was happening – he really didn't want another missile to the head.

Although he thought that the sound was quite familiar, he couldn't quite place it. There was also the faint glow of light. Not white light, but multi-coloured flashing light. As it got closer he could just about make out the outline. It was one of those wind-up toy robots, except that these days they weren't wind up, they had the kind of chip in them that would have run the whole of the world's computers back when he was a kid. But the most alarming thing was that when it got up close it wasn't tiny, fit-in-your-hand size, it loomed over him like a B-movie science fiction monster.

It stopped. Right by his head. He held his breath.

You're all right then? said the robot, We did wonder. That was quite some fall you took last night.

Carl just stared at the flashing lights. He couldn't quite comprehend the fact that this thing that stood before him was talking to him. He had to be dreaming, but did you dream when you were dead? Or was he actually still alive in some drug-induced coma?

I'm Robbie, said the robot with a little chuckle, Go on, I know you want to laugh. It's okay. Seems the powers that be do have a sense of humour, even if it is a bit warped.

A huff of air left Carl's mouth. He couldn't stay still any longer. He gently touched the bump on his head, it was beginning to throb and this whole giant toy thing wasn't helping.

Yeah, sorry about that. Kenzo doesn't like newcomers. Well, hates would be a better word. But that's why he's over here and not over there.

Robbie pointed in the vague direction of where the breathing sound was coming from.

Did the fall knock out your voice box or something? Robbie continued, Because Ron could have a look at that, he's good with mechanics. It can't be much different from working on the cars.

I can speak, said Carl, I'm just not sure I have anything to say.

Well, your name would be a good start, said Robbie, We don't want to call you Teddy unless that's actually your name. Robbie chuckled again, although Carl really couldn't see what was in the least bit funny. He had to be alive and on drugs. Lots of them. This was almost psychedelic.

My name's Carl, he said.

Great. Carl it is then. Come and meet the rest of the gang. Just follow my lights until you get your dark eyes. It isn't far.

Carl decided he had nothing better to do, so he got up and padded along behind Robbie. There were so many questions in his head, but those dulled into insignificance compared to what his eyes were beginning to take in. For a start, his body seemed to be much hairier than before and he couldn't distinguish any fingers or toes, just what he could only describe as oval blobs on the ends of his arms and legs. And as for his belly – somehow he had developed a rather rotund beer gut. He was so taken up in his thoughts that he didn't even notice that Robbie had stopped and he nearly walked straight into him.

They stood before two shelves where he could just about make out a dozen or so more toys engaged in animated conversation.

Ha-hem! said Robbie, calling them to attention. This is Carl. Let's give him a rip-roaring welcome to damnation.

Most of them did just that, but in amongst the cheers and greetings was one particularly surly face. A gangly chimpanzee with bright orange fur snarled at him.

That's Kenzo, whispered Robbie, Best keep out of his way. Serial killer. He hasn't lost the tendencies.

But that wasn't what had taken Carl's attention. He ran his blob hand up his arm. He looked at Kenzo's body, then back to his own.

"Has anyone