The Scottish Horror

By Shantnu Tiwari

It is the most haunted house in Scotland. No one is foolish enough to visit.

And then James’ car breaks down in front of it.

Can he see a light through the windows? Should he risk going in?

An old fashioned horror tale, this ghost story will give you the chills.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shantnu Tiwari
• Release date: Nov 6, 2016
• ISBN: 9781540107695

Book preview

1

It was supposedly the most haunted house in Britain. A hundred people had died there in the last fifty years, with most deaths unexplained or unexplainable.

Of course, no one had died in the last few years because the Scottish government, worried about bad publicity, had declared the whole area off-limits. The place had gone quiet; the deaths had stopped.

Till a rich American businessman had come in, dollars flying, and decided to host a party there. The poor fool. He and his arrogant guests would come to regret their poor choice of venue. But not before they dragged me into their foolhardy game of death.

Do you think ghosts are evil? No ghost, ghoul, or demon could match the wickedness of the human heart. Remember that as you read this story. Humans are the wickedest of them all.

My story started a few weeks ago in London, where I lived and worked. For weeks, I had been having bad dreams. Horrible dreams, which had me waking up screaming. All I could remember was an army of dead chasing me, ripping me apart into pieces. The same dream kept repeating over and over, and even though I knew it was a nightmare, I couldn't stop it. I couldn’t escape the circle of hell my nights had become.

I had seen doctors, psychiatrists, hypnotherapists, and every other quack there was. And every one of them told me it was all in my mind. Of course it was in my mind. I had never claimed otherwise. My problem had been how could I get it out of my head?

The quacks had no idea.

My poor wife had tried her best to help me. But it was getting too much for her. She was barely sleeping either, and her health had started to suffer. My illness was beginning to harm the ones I loved the most.

And then it got worse.

I was at a party, drinking fine champagne, eating a fried cheese stick, chatting to friends, when the world just stooped.

Everything went black and white. The sounds stopped, like someone had pressed the