Shivers: 13 Tales of Terror

By Natasha Duncan-Drake and Sophie Duncan

Spooks, werewolves and demons haunt these 13 tales that will leave you shuddering with fright!

Enjoy the spine tingles as you read a cautionary tale about not playing with any old deck of cards, however innocent they may seem. Wallow in the horror of a she-demon stalking her victims, or a werewolf discovering there are things weirder than himself. Or maybe you'd like to chuckle at the chill on the back of your neck as you spend time with a hair-raising highwayman.

13 tales of terror. 13 scares. Read them - we dare you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wittegen Press
• Release date: Sep 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781912583126

Natasha Duncan-Drake

Natasha is a British author with Wittegen Press and has been publishing genre fiction since 2011. Her work includes everything from horror to young adult fantasy and she has never met a genre she didn’t like. A prolific producer of short stories and novels alike, Natasha currently has over twenty five titles in her back catalogue with further releases always imminent.Natasha has been writing since she was a young girl ever since she read The Hobbit at Primary School. She is a big fan of science fiction, fantasy and horror in all their forms and is a big advocate of fanfiction as a great tool for writers to polish their skills in a welcoming and supportive community.Before establishing Wittegen Press with her twin sister, Sophie Duncan, Natasha was a database and systems consultant. She combines these skills with her writing to create and manage her career in the bold new eBook market.

Book preview

Shivers

13 Tales of Terror

Sophie Duncan & Natasha Duncan-Drake

Shivers Copyright © 2018 by Sophie Duncan & Natasha Duncan-Drake. All Rights Reserved.

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

Cover designed by Natasha Duncan-Drake

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Sophie Duncan & Natasha Duncan-Drake

Visit our website at www.WittegenPress.com

First Edition: Oct 2018

This Edition: Sep 2019

This Edition: Jan 2020

Wittegen Press

ISBN-13 978-1-912583-12-6

This book is dedicated to anyone who enjoys that certain tingle down their spine, delivered only when imagination and spooky words combine just so.

For all those who love a good scare!

Contents

Acknowledgements

If Wishes Were…

Happy Families

The Visitor

Ruderbaker

Worse Than Death

Family Matters

Geoffrey

Catcher of Souls

Some Things Are Stranger

The Warmth of Blood

Mirror Twins

Looking for Luticia

Lost in the Dark

Join Our Newsletter

Also by Sophie Duncan

Also By Natasha Duncan-Drake

About the Authors

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you to our family for their undying support.

And thank you to the masters of horror in book, film and TV for all the wonderful inspiration you give with every creation.

IF WISHES WERE…

Natasha Duncan-Drake

I wish you were a man, or gay, Essie said.

Then she looked up from her tea at her best friend across the cafe table. Beth simply lifted a questioning eyebrow. Such were the dynamics of their relationship.

Then neither of us would have to bother with this boyfriend/girlfriend crap; we could just shack up together and be done with it, Essie explained. Oh, and the fact that the hotel gave us a double instead of a twin would be awesome not annoying.

Sorry, Essie Darling, Beth replied in an over exaggerated way, but you just don't have the equipment for me.

Essie glanced down at where her top was clearly showing her cleavage and snorted a laugh.

More's the pity, she replied.

Oh, Es, you really wouldn't want to be in a relationship with me anyway, Beth told her and patted her on the arm, I'm a complete disaster. Six months in and that's it. First there was James who ran away to be an aid worker in Africa, then Paul who, honest to god, joined the Foreign Legion, followed by Mark who decided waves were worth more than me and is in Hawaii or Sydney or something like that, then David who went to find himself in a Buddhist temple in India, bringing us right up to date with Colin who ran off with his second cousin to sunny Spain. Six months I tell you and that's it. Off they go to seek enlightenment or some other such shit.

It was Essie's turn to pat Beth's hand.

You'll find one eventually, she assured her best friend.

There was no way she could deny that Beth had a point, however. All Beth's boyfriends did last about six months and then they up and left. You could almost set your calendar by it. Beth would meet a guy in the spring, usually around April, they would be blissfully happy all summer and come autumn he'd find that he had to be somewhere else on the planet and just vanish. Then Beth would swear off men until the next spring.

Essie and Beth had known each other since they were three and Beth hadn't dated at all when they were teenagers, but Beth had hit eighteen and decided to have a go. Five years later Beth was zero for five.

Want to go on the ghost walk? Essie asked, deciding to change the subject completely. It starts at six and goes around all the spooky places in this little town.

Beth considered that for a moment while taking a sip of her Mocha.

Yep, Beth said eventually, sounds like a great plan.

Essie grinned.

At six sharp they were waiting outside the pub on the High Street where they had been told to congregate. Essie ducked her face into her scarf as she plunged her hands deep into her pockets; it was bloody cold. There was no cloud cover at all so the mild heat of the day, which had been positively balmy for October, was completely gone. She was beginning to regret suggesting the whole thing.

Here, Beth said and thrust a hip flask at her; it'll keep you warm.

She didn't argue and the swig of brandy did have a nice burn all the way down.

Thanks, she said and gave the flask back.

The little town they had chosen for their commiseration break was, apparently, quite famous for its ghost walk, so there were about fifteen of them waiting in the cold. It was the kind of thing Beth loved, which was why Essie had suggested it when she'd seen the leaflet in the coffee shop's tourist stand.

Good evening and welcome to the Path of Phantoms, said a booming voice and almost made Essie jump out of her skin.

She turned to find a man dressed all in black, with a cloak no less, standing a few feet behind them. He was smiling in a very disconcerting way with wild eyes that had her wondering if he'd just escaped from the local loony bin.

I hope you are all ready to meet the unquiet dead, he continued.

There were a few nervous laughs.

That was when she glimpsed the first chink in their host's armour. Just for a second there was a flash of a frown as he realised the group was not over enthusiastic. Essie might have been sympathetic if she hadn't been so cold. The day had fooled her into thinking they wouldn't be freezing their arses off.

My name is Philip Moss and I died here three hundred and seventy-one years ago, their host intoned and she had to give him points for keeping trying. I was shot through the heart by a Roundhead musket ball and fell on this very spot. I would say I was defending my king by stealing parliamentary gold, but they simply called me a thief. I'll let you decide who was right.

There was another titter of laughter, louder this time; he was quite good.

Follow me down the dark path if you dare, Philip all but bellowed and then swirled in the way only a cloak would allow.

That was a bit over the top for Essie's taste just at the moment and she took another swig when Beth offered her the flask.

It wasn't a bad ghost walk per say; there were other actors playing various famous dead from the town and they were pretty good, one even made Essie hide behind Beth, but it wasn't really Essie's thing. When they were dragged to the locked cemetery gates she'd almost had enough.

And here we have the old graveyard, Philip told them in his very serious 'there-is-bound-to-be-another-ghost-jumping-out-any-second' voice. This houses the great and sometimes the not so good of our fine town. They closed it in the 1950s and opened the new one on the other side of the cricket ground when they finally couldn't dig without coming across someone's old bones.

Come on, Beth whispered and elbowed her in the side as Philip got going on his latest speech.

What? Where? Essie asked in an equally low whisper.

Beth tilted her head and indicated the wall a few feet along from where they were standing. For a moment Essie didn't see it, but then she realised the top of the wall was missing for a couple of feet, along with the spiked metal work that was clearly supposed to keep people out.

No, Essie hissed and turned her attention back to Philip; there was only so far she was willing to follow her wilder friend.

Between the graves is the famous Rancour mausoleum, Philip was saying. In 1851 Miss Lucy Rancour met and fell in love with Sir James Marcon and theirs was to be the wedding of the decade. However, on the eve of her wedding Lucy discovered that Marcon, far from being the wealthy lord he claimed, was in fact penniless and already married and was willing to commit bigamy for her money. Lucy confronted her bridegroom with a gun, demanding his blood for the injury he had caused her. In the ensuing struggle the gun went off, fatally wounding poor Lucy and slightly injuring Marcon. It is said she died with the final words: I wish you ... No one knows what she wished, but Marcon died two years later still on the run from Lucy's father. Ever since, it is said that those who make a wish on her tomb are granted it.

Philip laughed, deep and twisted, and it made the hairs on the back of Essie's neck stand up.

Beth tugged on Essie's arm again.

We have to, Beth whispered.

Essie rolled her eyes, but as a wan figure in white appeared further down the path and the group tittered and gasped just as they were supposed to, she let herself be dragged out of the main company. While Philip led the tour on, the ghostly actress in white following them down the road, Essie and Beth stayed behind.

Give me a leg up, Beth said once they were alone.

Knowing that she was bound to regret it, Essie did as she was asked and, in moments, Beth was on top of the wall. It wasn't exactly an incredibly high wall, so Essie had little trouble as Beth helped haul her up to the top as well. She was a P.E. teacher after all, climbing walls were her thing. It was only as they went to climb down the other side that things went a bit wrong.

Ow, she said, grabbing her hand to her as she landed.

What? Beth asked immediately.

Something stabbed me, she said and Beth turned on her phone, using it as a torch.

There was blood pooling in the centre of her palm.

There must have been some of the metal work left, she said and reached into her pocket for something to stem the bleeding.

Oh god, I'm sorry, Beth said. Should we just go back?

Hell no, she replied; I have a war wound now, I better have at least one tall tale to show for it.

It didn't look like a deep cut as she dabbed at it at least and she'd only had a tetanus shot the previous month thanks to an incident with a rusty old javelin she'd been trying to remove from the storage cupboard.

Come on, she said, not wanting Beth to start feeling guilty, we have a mausoleum to find.

It was dark their side of the wall, but the street light from the other side gave a few yards of light after the deep shadow. Essie pulled out her phone so she didn't kill herself trying to get to the lit area. Being a torch would drain the battery, but it was a small hardship given how gloomy the graveyard actually looked. She was beginning to regret saying yes.

Now this is spooky, Beth whispered and grinned, grabbing her arm and dragging her forward.

The lone street light in neutral territory did not help them for long. It was one of those old-fashioned ones that was more of a nod towards proper lighting rather than anything really useful, so soon they were back in mostly darkness with only their phones to guide them. Beth was right; it was kind of spooky.

Essie had always been a level headed, believe-what-she-could-see sort, but all the monuments to death were even beginning to get to her. She was feeling warmer thanks to the walking they had been doing and the alcohol they had been consuming, but it was as if the tombstones gave the place an extra chill.

Can we go yet? she asked and hoped it didn't sound like a whine.

There was something decidedly off about the graveyard.

Not until we've found Lucy's mausoleum, Beth replied in just the way Essie had been hoping to avoid.

However, she shouldn't have worried. Most of the graves were just low tomb stones, some with edging or little railings; there was only one huge one. Picking their way around the last few monuments using their phones, they headed straight for the biggest construct in the place. It was the size of a small garage with a huge angel on top and the name Lucy Rancour was chiselled in large letters over the front.

Well, her family definitely wanted her remembered, didn't they? Beth said, standing there looking up at it.

Essie shivered as Beth tried to illuminate the angel with her phone. The result was something that looked more demonic than angelic.

Yep, Essie agreed and accepted the flask when it was passed to her after Beth took another swig.

She was beginning to feel nicely buzzed and she didn't like the spooky feeling trying to settle in her stomach. She didn't believe in that clap trap and she refused to become a victim to it. That was probably why, in a fit of bravado, she stepped up to the mausoleum and placed her hand on it.

Hello, Lucy, she said, I've heard you grant wishes. Well I have one.

She closed her eyes and wished as hard as she could. It occurred to her belatedly that it was a really stupid thing to do considering what she was trying to prove to herself.

Then she shuddered from head to foot.

For a moment her hand felt incredibly cold, as if enclosed in ice and she opened her eyes, frowning. A chill ran up her spine and the glow of the alcohol wasn't enough to stop her shivering some more. She definitely hadn't drunk enough to be seeing things, but, for a second, it was as if there was a mist on her hand. When she felt the touch of phantom fingers she stepped back with a shout.

Essie, you okay? Beth asked, catching her before she could fall over the next gravestone.

Essie stared at her hand then at the small smear of blood she had left on the mausoleum stone.

Oh god, too many ghost stories, she said, mentally slapping herself. Alcohol and ghosts, not good.

Beth had the gall to laugh at her then.

Your face, Beth said.

Shut up, she replied and mock slapped Beth on the arm.

So, Bestie, what did you wish for? Beth asked.

Essie did her best to grin back without shivering again.

Oh, y'know, she said, love, what else? For both of us, if you were wondering.

What she didn't mention was that she might have reiterated her wish from the cafe that afternoon. It had been a silly whim, but, for some reason she couldn't quite fathom, she didn't want to tell Beth about it.

Come on, she said, I've had enough of the cold and the scares, let's find a decent pub.

Beth rolled her eyes, but agreed without a fuss. Essie was very glad to leave the graveyard behind.

***

Essie opened her eyes and immediately winced at the very pink flowers on the ceiling facade. They were just as horrible as the previous night and now they were bathed in the garish light of a brilliant morning. Their hotel had been a bit of a disaster if truth be told. It was quite big, but clearly hadn't been renovated since the 80s and they'd been given a double room rather than a twin. Since there was a wedding taking place that weekend, they had had to make do, which was why they were sharing the bed.

Essie just groaned and looked over to where Beth was still dead to the world. It really was a shame her best friend was straight, because they would have made a great couple.

Rubbing her face, Essie came to a sudden and complete stop. She was one hundred percent sure she had not had stubble yesterday.

What did you do, Beth? she muttered under her breath.

It wouldn't have been past Beth to play some sort of trick. However, when her voice sounded way too low, she started to worry. Not sure what she was thinking she lifted the duvet and promptly started to panic.

Oh my god, oh my god, she chanted, her voice rising to an almost normal pitch as she waved her arms; I have a dick.

Then she promptly fell out of bed as she flailed.

Es? Beth leaned over the side of the mattress as Essie lay there stunned.

I'm a man, she said.

Beth lifted both eyebrows.

I had noticed, Tiger, Beth said and grinned.

But, but, I shouldn't be, she stammered.

For a moment Beth seemed to consider that.

Is this another sexual identity crisis like when you were thirteen and couldn't decide if you were straight or gay until I pointed out you might be bi? Beth asked.

No, Essie insisted; last night I was not a man.

Then the penny dropped.

Oh my god, oh my god, she said; it was that mausoleum in the graveyard. I made that stupid wish and now I'm a man.

This was not quite what she had been envisaging, but it did kind of fit the wish.

Es, I love you and all, but what the hell are you talking about? Beth asked.

Last night, she insisted; we came here to commiserate about Colin, got tipsy on the ghost walk and then went into that graveyard.

Who's Colin? was the next question.

The guy you met at Lisa's party, Essie replied, and who dumped you to run off with his second cousin.

Never been dumped by a Colin, Beth told her, but I do remember Lisa's party. We sat in a corner being single together and then we made out. I told you it was a mistake, but you're a persistent bugger and wooed me with choccies and wine and flowers and singing, oh god, never do that again. We came to sunny Yorkshire to celebrate our sixth month anniversary.

Then Beth leaned down, bracing herself on her arms and pecked a kiss on Essie's lips. For a second her brain kind of flipped out on her and she forgot what she was thinking. It was very weird, she was sure her brain didn't used to do things like that. She couldn't help realising she was staring at Beth's breasts when her thoughts came back online.

Were you smoking the good stuff last night or what? Beth asked with a grin.

Essie looked down at her own body and couldn't help wondering if she had just had a mental break or something. There was something familiar about what she ... he was looking at.

Oh my god, the brownies, Beth said suddenly.

Es looked up.

What brownies?

The ones the students gave us, y'know the ones from York, we met them in the pub?

Es frowned; he remembered having dinner then going on the ghost walk and then the pub, but no students ... then it came back to him. It was as if one memory faded in and the other faded out.

Oh, he said, those brownies. Someone did say something about best brownies ever, nudge, nudge, wink, wink.

You must have had some trip, Beth said and grinned at him. I'd be very disappointed if you had boobs instead of a dick, y'know.

Es almost wanted to contradict that, but decided against it. His brain was clearly a very confused place at the moment.

Come on, Beth said, throwing herself out of bed, let's shower. I'm hungry and then I want to explore.

Es knew when he was beaten and let his girlfriend take the lead. It had been a really, really vivid dream and his body felt weird, but he did seem to slowly be coming back to himself. His head was muddled, but he found that with Beth right there things were slowly making sense. He was never eating hash brownies ever again; one sexual identity crisis in his life was enough, thank you very much; his early teenage years had been very confusing. As Beth dragged him into the shower he decided to concentrate on her boobs rather than having any of his own.

***

All through breakfast Es kept having moments when the size of his hands or the way his body moved or something else made him jolt with surprise. He couldn't help flashing back to the idea that he should be a woman. Then there was the whole history he had in his head from the dream for the woman he was supposed to be. It wasn't as prominent as his real memories, especially when he was talking or laughing with Beth, but he'd never had such a detailed dream ever before.

Let's go in, he said as they wandered past the old cemetery, the gates of which were now propped open.

Beth raised an eyebrow.

There is a fudge shop just round that corner and it has its own cafe, Beth said, are you sure you wouldn't rather go there?

They had been walking around town for a couple of hours and coffee and sweets did sound like a nice idea. However, Es looked up and to his shock saw that the wall was missing a few feet of railing on the top. They hadn't come this way yesterday so he had no idea how he could have known.

Not up for a spooky graveyard? he challenged, knowing just how to handle Beth.

It's sunny, Beth replied and laughed at him; there's nothing spooky about it.

Wanna bet? he asked.

She sighed in a very put-upon manner.

Come on then, she said, but I'm blaming the brownies.

Es grinned, until he stepped through the gates. It might have been sunny and bright, but he shivered none-the-less. He could see more now that it was daylight, but everything was how he remembered it from the dream. He had never been here before, but he remembered it.

You okay? Beth asked.

What did we do after the brownies? he asked, because he had to be sure.

We went back to the hotel, Beth replied. Why?

Because I remember this place from my dream, he replied. I remember the wall and the layout and the fact that that grave is of a little boy and you think the cherub on it is really creepy and Lucy's mausoleum is that huge thing right there.

It was silly, he knew it was, but the whole situation was beginning to freak him out.

Hey, Es, Beth said, taking his hand and pulling him close, it's okay. We might have come this way back when we were stoned; those brownies were strong. Maybe that's why your dream was so vivid, we actually did it, but like some tripped out dream.

Es wasn't so sure; what he remembered seemed so real. Of course, he had never had hash brownies before, so he had no idea what effect that could have on his psyche.

You think we came here? he said.

Well if you remember it I can't think of another explanation, Beth replied. We were out of it.

It was a rational explanation.

Yeah, he agreed and looked towards Lucy's tomb. God, my head's a mess.

Come on, let's get coffee and fudge, Beth suggested.

It probably was the best plan and Es nodded.

But I just want to say hi to Lucy first, he said before Beth could pull him back towards the gates; it would be rude not to.

He managed to smile for that comment and Beth grinned back at him.

I don't take well to other girlfriends, she said.

How do you feel about boyfriends? he quipped back.

Now that I could go for, she replied, slipping her arm through his as they went towards Lucy's mausoleum, but only if I get to be in the middle.

Es laughed, even if he did have to force it a bit.

He was still off balance as he stood in front of the impressive stone monument and he reached out and touched it. Logically he knew it was silly, but he sent a silent plea to Lucy for everything to be normal again. However, this time there was no cold or mist or anything at all and he felt like a complete idiot.

I need a coffee, he decided and did his best to ignore the little brown stain a couple of inches from where he had put his hand.

A dream was just a dream and he wasn't bleeding and there was no wound on his hand from the previous night, so it was all his imagination. Shaking his head, he let Beth lead him to the fudge shop.

***

I'm cold, Beth whined as soon as they stepped through their hotel room door, warm me up, Essie.

Don't call me that, he said as if it was second nature, but it still felt wrong.

Aww, poor Es, all worried about his masculinity, Beth teased and threw her coat on the chair. I know just what will help with that.

Es found any annoyance evaporating as Beth pulled her top up and over her head. Funny how that worked.

Now, she said, I believe I asked you to warm me up.

Es didn't need asking twice.

Beth's skin was actually remarkably warm under his hands and he pulled her close and drew her in for a kiss. She always ran warm. He always joked it was her passion trying to breach the surface, because Beth was a firecracker in bed.

More clothes were shed as they kissed and groped at each other and Es forgot about everything else. All he wanted right then was Beth.

Um, Beth said, just as he was about to lower her onto the bed, condoms.

He mentally kicked himself as he looked down at where he was tenting his