Black Cat Tales: Black Anne and Other Short Stories

By Andy Morris

In this second collection of stories, Black Cat Tales: Black Anne and Other Short Stories you'll find more of the most popular spooky (and sometimes mischievous) stories and flash fiction from Black Cat Tales.
Stories include:
Black Anne;
The River Rising;
Squirrel Hunting;
The Magic in the Stones; and more

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andy Morris
• Release date: Jul 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311290892

Andy Morris

Andy Morris is an Abstract Painter and InstructorOver 10,000 students from around the world in over 100 countries are enrolled in his online courses. You can find all his courses here https://andymorrisart.com/instruction/His bold abstract artwork can be found in Corporate and Private collections across the USA, and in Canada, England, Mexico, and Puerto Rico.You can view some of his art, as well as paintings by his students on his website https://andymorrisart.com

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Black Cat Tales: Black Anne: and Other Short Stories

By Andy Morris

Copyright 2014 Andy Morris

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

ISBN 9781311290892

Table of Contents

One -The River Rising

Two - Revelations Part 1

Three - Black Anne

Four - The Magic in the Stones

Five - Revelations Part 2

Six - Jimmy the Shrew

Seven - Squirrel Hunting

Eight - Beyond the Elder Tree

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The River Rising

All five kids were asleep in bed and the home breathed with the brittle stillness that can only be found in the very early hours of the morning. So when the sudden sharp knocking on the front door shattered that silence it brought a sense of puzzlement and mild irritation to Rose. It wasn’t Jean out there because she’d have a key and she’d just let herself in. Jean was running late because of the floods in the town and the initial half hour wait for her had turned into three and a half hours of Rose being on her own. Claire should have been here but she had been feeling unwell so Rose had sent her home earlier. Rose didn’t mind being on her own, even though it wasn’t strictly allowed. But what she didn’t like was the idea of a visitor coming here at – she checked the time – 1:37am!

Heaving her stocky well-built frame off the low sofa different scenarios ran through Rose’s mind. It was unlikely to be kids up to no good because the home was quite isolated. Hillside Grange was situated at the end of a long driveway way off the main road, not far from where the river Tees bisected the town. But if it was kids messing around, she’d deal with them: They’d soon regret messing with the captain of the local women’s rugby team. Whatever the visitor at the door wanted, it was most likely to do with the storm. It had been raining for days now and the town had watched the Tees slowing rising day by day. Drains were already overflowing near Rose’s house and it was a miracle that her car made it through the water to get here tonight. Fortunately for Jean, she lived closer to Hillside Grange than Rose. Nevertheless, the river could be treacherous in some parts. Last year when it broke its banks in a similar flood a couple of emergency service personnel were killed, swept away from the bridge at the end of the lane and their bodies still hadn’t been found. It wasn’t uncommon for the river to claim lives though. Countless people had drowned in the swirling waters, entangled in weeds and dragged under by the strong currents. Local folklore told of a river-witch that would leave trinkets near the water’s edge. Then when children came to take them she’d grab their ankles and pull them under water. That image floated in mind as she turned to leave the lounge. That’s when she spotted the pale figure silently watching her from the doorway.

Rose almost jumped out of her skin, and swore under her breath. She was usually so unflappable and rarely felt on edge in any situation. However, for some reason the floods had brought with them an unwelcome dread and being confronted with Hayden on a night like this really startled her. A cold tingling sensation crept down her spine as she registered the sickly-looking child. It was a sad indictment but Rose had never warmed to Hayden, none of the staff could honestly say they had done. All the children here had special needs and staff had been able to form connections with the other four kids but there was something… peculiar about Hayden that people couldn’t get past. It wasn’t his appearance; the slight frame and sickly pale complexion with red blotches encircling his eyes, which made him look as if he’d been half drowned in the river. He had a kind of damp aura that he gave off and after spending any time with him staff would often want to sit next to a warm radiator afterwards, even in the middle of summer. To compound this, his skin was permanently clammy and he had an annoying habit of wanting to hold hands all the time. Maybe he was looking for some kind of attachment or comfort having been abandoned as a baby? Whatever it was, physical contact with Hayden felt unpleasant for some reason that she couldn’t articulate. When he took your hand it sometimes felt as if he was pulling you down into a cold dark place. Like a drowning victim grabbing you and pulling you under with them. More than one person described the symptoms of a mild anxiety attack when they held his hand for too long. It was hard to breathe and all you could was to try and get your hand back as quickly as you could before you went under. It was a strange sensation and very unsettling. There was definitely something that was just not right about the boy. Rose also disliked his morbid