Evil Houses

By Erik Shuttleworth

The secrets behind these EVIL HOUSES make paranormal child's play. EVIL HOUSES is an original collection of haunted house thrillers that's a must-read for fans of ghost stories and tales of gripping terror. In The House From Hell, Mike, Trista, Greg and Tiffany conduct a paranormal investigation in a house where, twenty-eight years earlier, the father drowned his wife and son and bludgeoned his daughter to death before hanging himself. The investigation leads into the bowels of a preserved, abandoned realm where every clue exposes violent evil and each revelation deepens the terrifying, apocalyptic reality the team has exposed themselves to. In The Straw House, Steven and Brenda are living a normal life in the 1980's. Steven acquires building contracts and Brenda tends the home preparing for their life together. However, neither knows the ancient evil that stalks Steven's soul until Steven's memory is reawakened to his old sins and their consequences on Halloween night. In the darkness Brenda is seduced by witchcraft and Steven comes face to face with an inferno of evil more sinister than any closeted childhood fear. In Grave Incidents, David, a psychologist and dream analysis specialist, attempts to assist Rebecca (a woman suffering from horrific nightmares and a peculiar phobia) in resolving her inner turmoil. As the sessions reach deeper into Rebecca's soul, David soon discovers his own haunted past. This triggers a dangerous downward spiral for them both. Soon their highly charged emotions and own histories are revealed through supernatural visions, bloody secrets and a dark truth that can only be unraveled through a violent confrontation in a secluded house in deep wilderness. "A bone-chilling read!" says Joe Flynn, horror host of San Jose's popular "The Joe Flynn Show."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Black Bed Sheet Books
• Release date: Feb 28, 2016

Erik Shuttleworth

Erik Shuttleworth studied Computer Science and Mathematics in college and went on to work as a salesman, technical advisor and manager in the health and wellness retail industry for over a decade. During this time he developed his art of story telling with several forays into unpublished works. Erik also experimented with Found Footage screenplays. Years of attempts to craft a unique Found Footage experience led to the conversion of the works in the collection now called Evil Houses. Erik enjoys outdoor photography and plans on continuing to explore various forms of artistic expression. Visit his website at: TheDarkGlass.com

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Evil Houses

۩

Erik Shuttleworth

Evil Houses

A Black Bed Sheet/Diverse Media Book

May 2014

Copyright © 2014 by Erik Asheton Shuttleworth

All rights reserved.

Edited by Kelly J. Koch

Cover designed by Nicholas Grabowsky and

copyright © 2014 by Nicholas Grabowsky & Black Bed Sheet Books

The selections in this book are works of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

ISBN-10: 0692218513

ISBN-13: 978-0-6922185-1-8

Evil Houses

۩

Erik Shuttleworth

A Black Bed Sheet/Diverse Media Book

Antelope, CA

Dedicated to my Mother.

If she were still alive she probably wouldn't read this book but would be glad I wrote it.

Evil Houses

Erik Shuttleworth

A Sealed Coffin

۩

(Prologue to Proceeding Tale)

Rebecca lay unconscious within her freshly prepared tomb. Her body was calm and unmoving as dirt was continually placed on the coffin lid. Shadows near her feet crawled slowly around exposed flesh. Rebecca was wearing jeans and the clothing offered little protection. The shadows were covered with thick hair and sported fangs, the weaponry of arachnids.

As the spiders decided when and where to feast, Rebecca’s eyelids rapidly pulsated from underneath as she saw night visions. Nightmares were a better escape from the woman’s current, fast-approaching end.

Rebecca stood in a house. The walls were bare. The air was deathly still. She walked forward slowly, testing the wood floor as if it was not entirely stable. Up ahead, a hallway opened to her. The path was long and twisted. The light came from unknown sources and flickered with playful danger, providing illumination only long enough for the eye to adjust before the onlooker was cast back into confusion.

As Rebecca moved down the corridor her eyes darted to the nearby walls and empty pieces of furniture. Dust covered wood outlined missing picture frames, books and journals. The memories had been taken by a sinister force. An entity was in the house with Rebecca. She felt as if a violent spirit hung above her. As if something ancient and ravenous was watching, following, waiting to feast on her flesh and tear into her soul.

Ahead, the corridor opened to a large room. A far wall held neatly interconnected windows. Beyond the glass dark clouds undulated and churned. At the far corner of the room a grand piano stood silently. Rebecca felt drawn to the piano and quietly approached. Beyond the window glass a spike of lightening fell to the ground from the undulating blackness. A forest of thick trees wavered violently back and forth helplessly against heavy winds. Rain hammered down with concussive, muffled force as if pushed by a black, animalistic presence.

Then, Rebecca watched as the piano keys began to move downward. A tune rose and filled the room. Rebecca’s face twisted with confusion as she tried to place the melody. The rhythm was painfully familiar and yet, the words escaped her mind.

Then, Rebecca froze as a shadow passed by her. The signature of a sinister presence quickly escaped from view. Rebecca turned to the empty doorway and saw only the dim lights of the corridor. She pulled away from the piano and searched for her observer.

In another room Rebecca fingered the dusty furniture. She thoughtfully traced an outline of a missing journal near a neatly made bed. Where were the pages? Where were the expressions of the person dwelling in this sad, empty place? Where were the memories?

Rebecca suddenly doubled over in pain. She looked down in horror as blood pushed outward, soaking her clothes from below her navel. She shivered at the silent violation from an unknown evil. With curious terror, Rebecca reached downward to her injury. She lightly touched the blood and brought the evidence close to her face. Rebecca rubbed her fingers together trying to understand, trying to grasp the situation.

Rebecca got up and moved down the twisted corridor heading for the front door of the house. She felt dizzy and disoriented as she stumbled forward. Blood dripped from her body leaving a jagged trail in the hallway. Rebecca rounded a corner entering the main room of the house.

She froze. A little girl stood at the doorway to the house. The little girl watched Rebecca with black eyes. Blood dripped down the girl’s body from her arms and clothing to the wood floor.

Rebecca uttered frightened words. Who are you?

The little girl did not answer. She quietly reached behind her back and pulled a hunting knife free. The knife was dripping with blood and chunks of flesh. The little girl eyed the blade with her empty eyes. She seemed to watch the chunks of flesh as they intermingled with the blade’s blood and crawled downward. The little girl spoke with a deep, unnatural voice.

You need to see Rebecca.

Rebecca stood in shocked silence. Then a crash tore at her senses. Rebecca whipped her head around searching for the sound. She ran back into the dim corridor. Rebecca suddenly winced as her feet were cut by broken glass. She looked down to see the entire hallway patterned with smashed picture frames and shattered glass. There were no images.

Slowly, Rebecca walked down the hallway. Her feet were cut repeatedly leaving horribly blotted footprints against the wood floor. Small shards of glass dug into her flesh. But the woman moved forward with a surreal focus. Her eyes kept straight ahead as if expecting a revelation at any moment.

Then, Rebecca stopped. A door creaked open and wind exited a beckoning room as if a final breath was being released from a long tortured soul. Rebecca paused. She lifted one of her feet and eyed the damage with a curious detachment from the extremity of her situation. Then she moved forward again and entered the dark room.

The air was deathly quiet in the starkly furnished bathroom. In a corner a claw foot bathtub was set by careful hands. Near the bathtub iron rods held old bath towels and across from the rods a porcelain sink stood at attention. A small window high above the furnishings displayed the stormy night. Assaulting rain, wind, lightning and thunder were muffled through thick glass. And a tree branch slapped