The Evil Incantation

By Neil Davies

Ex-Special Forces soldier Tim Galton and History Professor Alexander Hall are adventurers and paranormal investigators. But they don't just investigate haunted houses, they search out the darkest, most dangerous of creatures and do battle. Now they're in Romania, facing a deadly alliance between Satanists and Vampires and heading inexorably towards an encounter with the most evil creature they've ever faced, deep in Transylvania.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Neil Davies
• Release date: Jan 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310630781

Neil Davies

I am fifty two years old and I have Parkinsons disease. This affects my mobility quite a lot but not my mind . I write my poetry as a way of keeping my sense of humour alive.I have been writing for quite a few years and my poems range from humourous things my daughters and granddaugher have said to obscene jokes transfered into rhyme and the meaning of life .I hope you enjoy your purchase. Please comment on my verses I would love to hear from you.Neil

Book preview

THE EVIL INCANTATION

Neil Davies

Inspired by an original story from

Colin P Davies

© 2014 Neil Davies

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine, or journal.

Smashwords Edition 2014

Cover - The Collector by Steve Upham

Introduction

Back in 1975, when I was 16 years old, my brother, Science Fiction author Colin P Davies, wrote a short story called The Evil Incantation. It was obviously heavily influenced by Hammer films and Hong Kong's kung fu movies and I loved it. Combining Satanists, Dracula and a kung fu expert hero armed with Butterfly Knives it was everything I enjoyed in one story. It even had a scene in a forest lifted straight out of the black & white film Night Of The Demon, which is still one of my favourite films of all time. It was the kind of story I hoped to write myself one day.

Now, in 2014, that hope is realized in this, my version of that story written all those years ago.

My first step towards this was a desire to write the story of how two such disparate characters as The Professor and Tim Galton should end up working together, battling the forces of evil. That story is told in the novel The Village Witch (currently complete and awaiting publication). I played about with the background of the characters somewhat and updated Tim Galton to ex-Special Forces, armed with a semi-automatic Glock and combat knives rather than Butterfly Knives, but the spirit remained the same. While I was in the middle of writing The Village Witch, and had hit something of a block in the story development, I decided to take on a side project and re-invent The Evil Incantation with my new characters as a sort of 'taster' for the novel to come, albeit one set in the characters' future.

Fortunately, my brother still had his original hand-written copy so I re-read it, put it to one side and started writing. I did it for fun and to recreate the enjoyment I got from the original story, and I hope that comes across while reading. It should be fast moving, exciting and above all fun!

So here it is, inspired by that original story written by my brother in 1975… The Evil Incantation. Enjoy.

Neil Davies

14 June 2014

Contents

The Corridor

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

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THE CORRIDOR

I was in complete darkness the moment the door behind me slammed shut and locked.

From the brief glimpse I'd had when entering, the corridor seemed straight and uncluttered. Nevertheless, I shuffled my way cautiously forward with my hands on the wall. I just hoped the door I had seen at the other end was unlocked.

It was a cold night outside, but the air in the corridor was growing unnaturally hot and stifling. Sweat bristled all over my body, pooled at the base of my spine and stuck my shirt to my back.

Even shuffling slowly forward, it jarred me when my foot finally met the door. I felt for and grabbed the handle, breathing slowly, hesitating, hoping it would be unlocked and, if it were, wondering what might be waiting for me on the other side.

I turned the handle and pushed. The latch clicked. The door began to move. It was unlocked! Now I could get out of that corridor and investigate more of the old house. With some relief I pushed harder and stepped through.

My foot fell but there was nothing to meet it. Emptiness.

I tumbled out, automatically gripping the door handle tighter in my fist, my whole body-weight jerking to a sudden stop, my shoulder jabbing red hot pain through me as it was pulled to near dislocation.

I hung from the door handle with no idea if there was any floor beneath me, or, if there was, how far away it might be. I didn't like the idea of letting go to find out. There was a cool breeze circling up from below and a feeling of emptiness about me that suggested an open pit. Either that or it was one hell of a first step.

It took a moment for me to marshal my thoughts, but my time in the military had prepared me to react to the unexpected, to improvise in unknown situations. I took quick stock of what I knew.

Directly above me was the door, apparently solid and thankfully with good, strong hinges. I was hanging below that door, suspended from the handle by one hand and one very sore shoulder. There was no way I could tell if there was a floor below me, but I had to presume the worst and say not. Equally, I could not say what lay on the other side of the space, whether the corridor continued or there was another door or nothing. On the side I had just stepped out of I knew there was a corridor with a solid floor, even if it was some way above my feet at the moment.

Step one; do something about the strain on my shoulder.

I reached up with my other arm, pulling as best I could with the hand gripping the handle at the same time. The agony that shot through my shoulder caused me to shout out, an uncontrollable cry of pain. I pulled, I reached and I grabbed, finally holding onto the handle with both hands. The pain eased slightly with the extra support. It was a start.

Step two; somehow get back into that