The Children of Manson

By Catherine Bell

Would you allow an aggressive disease to spread? Would you watch with indifference as it devastated its host? I have a choice. And I, along with my Family, choose to act. Now you may choose. Join us... or die.

Lloyd feels time is short. From his care home he looks out over a world he feels has lost its way. But though concerned he has a plan.

Dee is a troubled university student, who finds it hard to fit in to a new environment. She struggles to make friends, and to come to terms with her sexuality. And then come the reports of the disappearances, and the mutilated bodies appearing around the town. will she get to the bottom of these grisly happenings before it is too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Catherine Bell
• Release date: Sep 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781005221874

Catherine Bell

My name is Catherine Bell, author of horror e-book The Children of Manson.I have been a writer for most of my life, and get a nostalgic buzz when trawling through the stories I wrote during my childhood. Horror is my favourite genre, both to read and write; I’m always on the lookout for new influences!My other hobbies include metal detecting (I’m an amateur archaeologist) nail art, and watching reams and reams of horror films. Oh, and I do take the occasional stab at poetry!Feel free to contact me at [e-mail]

Book preview

Chapter 1

Since Dee arrived at university, she’d known it wasn’t going to be easy. The bare walls, the dismal sky grey paintjob, the drunken shrieks already jarring through the paper thin walls as she heaved her suitcase on to the bed... No, this wasn’t going to be easy at all.

The university guide peered out of its plastic wallet with an irritating indifference- like it already knew it was going to be of no help, and wasn’t very fussed. Despite its advice to leave the door open- this will make you seem friendly and approachable- Dee’s bedroom door remained shut, and locked. She wasn’t ready for that yet- she needed to get her head in order first, and to do that, she had to unpack. Even this wasn’t as straightforward as hoped. The minimal furniture had been strategically placed to give the illusion that the room was bigger than it was, and her belongings were struggling to find a home. Eventually, reading lamp back in case, and books and folders under the bed, she sat on the one chair in the room and peered out of the window. Folding her arms, and resting her head on top, she shrugged at the view. If it had been a sunny day, and she’d not felt so down, she might have even enjoyed it- but today, with a fine drizzle speckling the window pane, and a sharp draft drifting through, she was in no mood to appreciate the small river that gushed past, oblivious to her existence.

She raised her rich mahogany-brown eyes glumly to the row of buildings across the other side of the river. A window faced hers, and she suddenly became aware of a face looking back at her with vague interest. She blushed violently, and drew away from the window. Feeling hugely uncomfortable, she decided to venture out into the rest of the house. Now’s as good a time as any to meet my housemates...

Click- she unlocked the door, and the sound echoed down the corridor. Great- now everyone will think I’m an anti-social weirdo. She wandered into the kitchen, with groceries in hand ready to stash in the fridge and cupboards... if there was any space. Dee smiled awkwardly as she walked in. A couple of girls were already reclining casually on the sofa, drinks in hand, while a boy perched on the arm of the chair, equipped with a bottle of beer. They returned the smile, and then went back to their conversation. Damn. And to make things worse, there was no room in the fridge. Just then the door opened, and another boy ambled in.

Guys- I thought we said one shelf each? Look she’s got literally nowhere to put all this stuff. Sorry, what’s your name? Dee introduced herself and stepped back while -Jack, he just mentioned- shuffled the rest of the contents around.

Thanks, Dee murmured gratefully, as she packed her food away. Lifting a bottle of wine out of the bag she sat down in front of the TV with the others. Anyone want some?

She made it out to the Student Union with them, mostly out of courtesy, and because- well who else did she know around here? But after they’d exchanged numbers and suggested heading on into a club, Dee decided to call it a night. Everywhere was packed with students- drunk students- and her comfort zone wasn’t even in sight any more. She found her way back to the house without much trouble, despite her awful sense of direction, but she put it down to her desperation to get home. The house felt better empty, but even so, she trundled back into her room- and locked the door. It was only a couple of hours- and a film- later that Dee considered venturing into the kitchen for food. The drizzle outside had picked up, and despite closing the curtains; she could hear the drumming of the rain on the glass, undoubtedly streaking it with tears while it was hidden from view.

She stared up hollowly at the bland lampshade, and her eyes wandered to the swinging cord on the other side of the room. It was still swaying since its jolt into motion when she had slipped out of bed to turn on the light.

The poky bedroom felt like a prison; with its tired single bed, barely strong enough to support her weight, groaning with urgent metallic creaks whenever she moved. The room itself was insufferably dim, even when the single dusty bulb suspended from above was emitting its pale orange glow. Dee thought about going for a shower; she could definitely do with the wash. But the motivation wasn’t there. She was too deep in contemplation. Plus, the greying suite complete with foreign stains and dreary shower curtain did nothing to muster any sort of urgency from her. Until the floorboard outside her room creaked slowly. That was enough to shock her into a bolt upright position, eyes transfixed on the door handle, almost willing it to move.

There was nothing more.

She glanced nervously out of the window; eyes gliding over the river to the small window that had framed such an eerie silhouette just hours before. Empty. Well what did she expect?

But what... who the hell was that? Dee stared at the door for an eternity, waiting for a knock, for footsteps walking away... nothing.

Don’t be stupid. First night jitters of course. She slipped out from between the sheets and stumbled haphazardly towards the door. The kitchen light was on- why was she still unsettled? She pressed on the swinging door and poked her head round into the artificially lit space... and that was when she first met Lily.

Sharp blue eyes stared out suspiciously from under roughly chopped raven dark hair. Her pale hands gripped a Winnie the Pooh mug filled with hot chocolate, topped with squirty cream. Hi. Her voice was barely there, like a whisper caught on the wind. But her eyes were full of fire.

Dee smiled weakly. There was something in the way she stood there; meekly, softly, but still so intensely.

Hello. Lily said nothing further, but floated to the kettle, and with one subtle gesture, flicked the switch. Bubbling filled the silence, which for a strange reason wasn’t awkward; instead it was mesmerising. Dee watched her tip chocolate powder into another mug, and smiled as the boiling water purred while it swirled into the mixture. Lily looked up at her and one corner of her mouth slowly eased upwards into a lopsided grin.

The two settled down on the sofa for a couple of hours, chatting about home, about friends, about futures. But then the others came back. As soon as they heard the key rattle in the lock, Dee and Lily called it a night. She hesitated as the door at the end of the hall closed, signalling Lily’s retreat. Back in her room, Dee sat on the bed. With closed eyes she tried to block out the heavy thumping of intoxicated feet drumming down the hallway, which stirred into the bellows and shrieks of her housemates to create a hurricane of irritation.

Still, she got to sleep.

Chapter 2

Lloyd screamed as a wave of frustration washed over him, dragging away all self-control. Helen knew what was coming, yet as always Lloyd’s unpredictability left her on edge. His motions stilled... his eyelids fluttered shut, and he began to mutter furiously... unintelligibly.

I saw them again. The Shadows. They follow me; watch over me. My protectors. They don’t hurt me- they wouldn’t. I see them sometimes, hobbling and flickering disjointedly. It looks grotesque; so mysterious. But I like it. They dance only for me, for I am special to them. I follow them sometimes and they take me to places…Helen doesn’t believe me...doesn’t understand. She thinks I lie? I don’t need to lie. I am... it doesn’t matter who I am. It only matters what. For I am All Powerful, All Knowing. Looking into the mirror I smooth over the wrinkles on my face. The creases return and I am angry. I hit the mirror. Hard. The glass cobwebs. My hand is a spider. I see wine flow down my arm. Helen guides me slowly -but firmly- away. She whispers to me, tells me I am bad. I laugh silently. She does not understand. I watch her, as her lips move and quiver absurdly as she chastises me like an infant. I want to punish her. Unleash my power. Then she would understand. As she watched me through cold, dead eyes, she would understand.

Helen left. I could hear the laborious drag of her soft soled pumps scuffing the wooden staircase as she made her descent back into the main house. But I was not on my own. No, I am never on my own. She would regret her laziness. The Shadows came again. I knew what they wanted. I found them even before they whispered my name. I felt their excitement. Their enthusiasm. They felt my rage. My fury. Justice would be done. I stared out of the window at the thickening trees outside; their leafy fingers jabbed accusingly at me. They knew I was special. I embraced the thought. I did not need to teach them. Not like Helen.

I squawked loudly for attention. If I am to be treated like an infant, I shall behave like one. I torture her with my constant pettiness. Helen heard me on the monitor and scurried like a beetle to my ‘aid’. I snorted. Mucus flew. Helen pulled out a tissue from her long black coat and wiped my nose. I was disgusted. I had thought for a mere second that she would grant me the dignity, have the sense, to hand me my tissue. My tissue. But I am forced to recognise her uselessness; her impatience as she would rather impinge upon my dignity than witness my laborious uncoordinated attempts to clean the clinging ooze. The anger is distilled. Rage permeates through me. My senses are awakened. This one is perfect. Young enough to make a difference.  I now enlist the shadow’s assistance. Knives. Arrows, and I, the archer. The upstairs kitchen is close. I am able to get in there while Helen is disposing of the tissue. With the Shadows help, I deftly gather the implements and tuck them under my shirt. The Shadows keep her. She finally emerges, calling my name. How dare she. No one is graced with that power. The first sacrifice. Her eyes grow wide as she learns my intentions. Fear sparks intelligence. Duly noted. The knives leave my lap, sail across the room. She tries to evade them- in vain. Her punishment. Foolish woman. More sharp implements flood silently through the air. And then in a beautiful motion, one arches straight into Helen’s heart, penetrating the flesh with a dull thud. She inhales a sharp gasp then lets out a slow, rasping wail as she falls heavily backwards onto the cold landing. Porcupine. The impact of her dead weight echoes deafeningly over the walls. It is my good fortune that the house is empty but for the ignorant carer relaxing in the lounge downstairs. It is done. I slip my fingers through the subtle groove in the wooden panels in the far wall of my bedroom to reveal a hidden door, cleverly concealed in the intricate detail of the woodwork. I hoist her person down the old worn steps into the dark tunnels that began beneath the house. Laden with Helen’s corpse, I escort her to one of the secret rooms furnished only with a table; a pleasing sight to my freshly murderous eyes. My classroom. Propping Sister in the corner, I wheel slowly backwards to admire the sight. She has been demoted, and I have been freed. I snicker as my excitement grows. The first step on this long and necessary journey.

Thomas.

Thomas slipped silently out of the darkness, where he had been waiting patiently for my return. I had long promised him this day, and it was finally upon us. Thomas accepted the body, and I watch as he slices through her flesh with care. Now my mission begins.

Chapter 3

Dee looked out with vague interest across the river at the blue lights flashing like Christmas decorations through the foliage on the far side. She glanced back down at her textbooks, but her mind wasn’t on this either. It was just past 2. No-one was out of bed yet, and though Dee had been up for hours attempting to work, she couldn’t concentrate on anything but listening for the distinctive sound of the kitchen door opening. Once Lily had wandered into the kitchen, Dee could catch her for a few minutes before the boisterous side of the house entered. From there it was football, shots, music and screaming… yes- in the afternoon. Lily (and Dee for that matter) couldn’t tolerate it, and while Dee was willing to stay