Killer Billy Mason

By Terence EDW Brumpton

Billy Mason thought his dream came true when he was offered a promotion, but it came with a catch; he had to move. When he and his wife find their dream house, they think their life is complete, but what they don't know is that the house holds a deep dark secret. A spirit hides in the home, waiting to find its next victim to do his dark deedsto kill.

When Billy reads from a mysterious notebook he finds in the attic, he invites the spirit into his body, changing him from Billy the family man to killer Billy Mason.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Aug 26, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514462652

Terence EDW Brumpton

Terence Brumpton was born in Lincoln, England, in 1988. After finding the joy of reading, he decided to try writing for himself. With his love for horror films, horror games, and the paranormal, it was an easy decision what would be the genre of his writings.

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Copyright © 2015 by Terence EDW Brumpton.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 08/24/2015

Xlibris

800-056-3182

www.Xlibrispublishing.co.uk

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Contents

Chapter 1 18th September 1979

Chapter 2 1st September 2013

Chapter 3 16th September

Chapter 4 24th September

Chapter 5 30th September

Chapter 6 1st November

Chapter 7 2nd November

Chapter 8 3rd November

Chapter 9 14th November

Chapter 10 1⁵th November

Chapter 11 15th November

Chapter 12 16th November

Chapter 13 18th November

Chapter 14

Epilogue

Author Biography

CHAPTER 1

18th September 1979

The rain beats down heavy on the windows of 22 Baker street. The house itself sits quietly on its own plot of land, surrounded on all sides by lush green grass. It’s 1830s red brick and bay window design fits in perfectly with the other houses on the street. Nothing about its appearance suggests that any evil could inhabit one of the most homely homes you will ever come across. But you shouldn’t always trust what your eyes can see.

Sat in the darkened living room with its wooden floor, and floral wall papered walls sits Colin Stevenson, a normal family man with a normal job. His clean pressed suit, and clean shaven appearance is what you would expect of someone who works his job as a bank manager. His blonde hair is cut short, and his face is young for his thirty-six years he’s lived. Colin bought 22 Baker Street thinking it would fit in with his normal life he lives with his normal job, and normal family of three children and his wife, Jenny. But what he didn’t know was of the evil the bricks of his new house hold, waiting to be released from their prison to bring evil to the living.

A month ago if you met Colin, you would have thought of him as one of the kindest men you could meet. A man who lived for his family, and wouldn’t hurt a fly.

That was a month ago, now his mind is twisted and tormented by thoughts of violence and suffering he wants to inflict on strangers, his friends and even his family. This is not his fault, and these are certainly not his own thoughts. You may ask who’s they are then. They belong to a demon called Valgorn, a twisted spirit, which once walked in the realm of the living.

It’s no mystery however how Valgorn got to possess Colin, that is simple, Colin summoned him. He didn’t mean to, it started with him finding this old red notebook in his attic. The first page the writing seemed gibberish to him and he couldn’t a word they said. Every word on the page were written in some language he couldn’t read. Unknown to him they were the words needed to be said to allow Valgorn to use the readers body as a vessel, a earthly form he can use to do his evil bidding with.

For the first day Colin felt normal, he felt like he did every other day; he felt himself. He drove to work in his orange Ford Capri, got home and spent time with his children, before he retired to bed. That night though his dreams turned to nightmares, images of twisted evil, of killing and him hurting his family. At first he thought nothing of it, that it was nothing and that he shouldn’t be worried. But as each day went by, the dreams became more violent, the images more dramatic and twisted. Then the voices started, only just a whisper in his ear. At first only saying his name, but then they started to tell him to kill, that he should hurt people.

For Colin he thought he was going mad, but over time they became louder and louder. He tried his best to ignore them, but after two weeks he found himself losing sleep. His mind wanting to give in to the voices and the kill, so he did.

His first victim was an easy target, an old woman in her late seventies. She was picked for Colin to get a taste for murder. He didn’t know her, but it would have been easy for him to have come into contact with her with his line of work. The plan was simple, every Friday night she would go for a drink in her local pub, and leave at the same time every week, and that’s when he would get her. She didn’t live far from the pub, but the streets near her house were always quiet and dark, so sneaking up on her would be easy. So the plan was set all what was needed was a way to kill her.

Valgorn decided on making Colin use a hammer, a rather quick and effective way for him to end the life of his victim. He would have liked Colin to use a knife, stab the old bitch, and watch as the blood drained from her old neck. Problem was he knew that would be very messy, and last thing he wanted was Colin to get caught.

The night for Colin started like any other for him, he sat on the sofa with his wife, watching some television. At this point he was his normal self, but then the voices started.

Colin, Colin. The voice of Valgorn whispered in his ear.

Its time to go, tell her you are going to the shop. We must go now Colin, get up and go. Transfixed by the voice, Colin got up and did what was asked, he kissed his wife on the cheek, picked up his car keys, and left his home. His family unaware of the evil he was about to commit.

Colin just managed to pull his car to a stop in a alley, as his victim passed the corner. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but for all he could think of he couldn’t think of a reason not to go through it. No he thought to himself, as his fingers wrapped round the hammer’s handle, I’m going to do this, and with that last thought he stepped out his car, and hid in the shadows waiting.

Wait for her to pass us Colin, and hit her in the back of the head. Hit her hard and fast. The voice in his head commanded.

Patiently he waited, his breathing stayed normal, his mind was empty of guilt, but full of anticipation for the moment; then it came. Slowly, making little sound Colin stepped out of his hiding place. Slowly he walked forward, until he was so close he could smell her perfume. She had no idea he was there, and then just like that it was over. Colin raised the hammer above his head and in one clean swing, brought it down on the back of her head. The impact caused her to die instantly, her skull almost exploding from the force, causing her soft brain to show through to the outside world. In the low light Colin couldn’t see the mess he had caused, all he could see was the lifeless body laying at his feet.

Time to go Colin, come on we must leave. The voice in his head said.

All the drive home Colin sat in a trance, his mind almost completely lost, and Valgorn taking it’s place.

When he got home he went straight to bed, he was tired; that’s what happens when you let Valgorn in your body, he uses a lot of energy to control the body of his vessel.

That night Colin slept through, and in the morning he had little memory of the night before. All he could remember was leaving the house in his car, and that was it. He couldn’t even remember how he managed to get in bed. But he felt far from himself, he felt much hate for the world, and the surrounding people. He would look at his wife and children, and couldn’t help but think what it would be like to kill them. What it would feel like to feel their blood on his hands, to taste it on his tongue.

And that was how it started for Colin, his slippery road that would be the death of him. How he killed his other victims, you will find out later on in the story. Now Colin has little control over his own mind, his actions far out of his own conscious thought. The evil inside him has eaten away at what ever good was in him, for he was a good man. But not now, now all he wants to do is kill his family.

Do it now, now Colin. You want to do it, I can see in your soul. This is who you are Colin, my killer. The voice in his head says.

Slowly he rises to his feet and walks through his house in the dark, his steps are heavy and echo in the quiet house. In the kitchen he opens the knife draw and freezes.

The big one Colin, come now you can do it. Pick it up. Colin reaches into the draw and his fingers slowly run over the cold steal blade.

He feels the sharp edge, thinking of how easy it will cut through the flesh of his children, of his wife, and finally him. His heart beats faster, but not in fear as you may think, but in anticipation. In his trance he wraps his hand round the blade, and grips it so hard it easily cuts into his flesh, but he feels no pain. He doesn’t notice the feeling of his blood dripping out of his gaping cut in his palm.

As his blood pools in the draw he pauses for one last time, taking the finger of his other hand he draws a ‘V’ in his own blood, before laughing and slamming his bloody hand print down on the work surface.

Step by step he slowly walks up the stairs, the old wood creaking under his every step. The first room he comes to is that of his youngest daughter, only three years old. He pauses as he pushes the door open, and stares into the darkness. He can see well in the dim light, as his eyes have already had time to adjust. He sees the shape of his helpless child as she sleeps in her bed, he sees her blonde hair fanned out on the pillow. She makes little noise as she breaths slowly in her sleep, her chest raising, and falling with the small sounds of her life. Colin’s face is grim, almost as it has aged twenty odd years. If you was in the room, you wouldn’t be able to guess what he’s thinking.

This is the end Colin, you brought her into life, you have power now to take it. Take her life, take it now! Colin freezes for a second, hearing the voice command him, but some other part of him telling him no, that its wrong.

He looks at the knife, the blade now dripping red with his blood, then to his daughter. His hand grips the handle harder, and he takes a step forward, then another, and before he knows it he’s sat on his daughter Mary’s bed. Suddenly she wakes and rolls over, and looks into Colin’s eyes.

Daddy, what’s wrong? She asks, seeing even at her age something is strange, and not normal about her father.

Colin doesn’t reply, he just stares at Mary, the knife still clutched in his hand out of her sight.

Now Colin, now. With amazing speed Colin raises the knife over his head and plunges it down into the soft, young flesh of Mary.

She whimpers slightly as she draws her last breath. The knife hit her heart, ripping a huge gash in the organ. She had no chance of living such a brutal attack. If you could see the bed, you would never guess the bedding was once white, so much of Mary’s blood has left her body, the sheets are now stained red with her blood.

Colin takes one last look at his dead daughter, and kisses her still warm flesh on the forehead, before dipping his hand in her blood, and pushing it on the wall above her head, leaving a perfect hand print in blood. Underneath he signs it "Mary."

Sleeping next door Mary’s bother James heard nothing. He knew nothing about what had happened to his younger sister; even though he lays awake in his bed. Opening his eyes he sees a dark figure in his doorway. For reasons he doesn’t know he feels scared, and hides his face under his cover, closing his eyes tight. In the face of such danger this little act does little for stem his fear, but quietly he lays their still, uncertain about what is going to happen.

Coward, coward. Kill him Colin, your son is a coward. The voice screams in his head.

Walking forward James hears the footsteps of his father edging closer, the heavy boots clattering off the floorboards. His body shakes in fear as he hears them stop, only inches away from where he lays.

This time Colin doesn’t pause, he raises the knife above his head and plunges it down into the duvet, he misses James by only inches, before he pulls the blade back out, and slams it down again and again and again. Each time the knife rips James flesh like a knife does butter. The first hits him in his arm, the second his stomach, and the final one his neck. He stood little chance of living such an attack.

Repeating his ritual, he leaves a bloody hand print on the wall with James name underneath before he moves on. What he doesn’t realise is James isn’t dead.

Next he kills Victoria, slitting the throat of his oldest child in one swift action. She doesn’t fight it, only kicks her feet as she bleeds to death. Last on his list is his wife, laying fast asleep in her bed.

Colin is that you? She asks in a daze, still from her sleep she just awoke from.

Colin doesn’t answer, its then she sees the knife, the knife covered in her three children’s blood, dripping onto her bedroom carpet.

Colin what’s happened? Who’s blood is that?

This is the blood of our children, they are dead. But don’t worry you will join them soon enough.

Colin no, please no, noooo! She screams, as Colin jumps on the bed and stabs her in a frenzy.

I’m not sure how many times he stabs her, but little is left to recognise her when he’s done. She looks more like a piece of meat than the corpse of a human. Her body is covered in cut marks, and drenched in blood. Breathless and tired Colin takes a step back and looks at the mess in front of him.

Good work Colin, now there is one more task I ask of you. Kill yourself, end your own life for me. Do it now Colin. Lifting his head he places the blade to his throat, and in one swift motion he cuts his own throat, but he feels no pain as he drops down to his knees, and slowly dies, as his heart pumps his blood out of his body.

It’s not long after that the police turn up, and even the most seasoned officers couldn’t believe the sight they saw when they entered the Stevenson house. In each bedroom laid the bloody remains of the family, and you may think that they were all dead, but young James was found just in time. A young officer called Grant Noble. He was the only to live, but it was something which would be forgotten over the years before the Masons moved into that same house.

CHAPTER 2

1st September 2013

Forty-four years later, the house stands empty, stuck in the time of the murders. The only thing changed is the blood marks on the walls are painted over, but the owner refuses to live there. For James Stevenson the house is a curse, a curse he can never step near. Since that dreadful night he can’t bare the thought of it been a home, instead he sees it as a place of death, and violence.

Much older now, but the memory still fresh in his mind, James Stevenson drives past his old home with his wife. Like usual he starts to speed up, it’s rare he drives this road, but today he had no choice. Nervously he keeps his eyes fixed forward, trying his best not to catch even a glimpse of the horrid place.

Stop James, stop. His wife calmly says, as she feels the car start to speed up.

At first he ignores her, but when she slams her hands down hard on the dashboard, he knows he has no choice to stop. Hitting the breaks on his red Ford Focus, it stops perfectly opposite the home.

Dear don’t you think it time we sell this place? You know your doctor said it would be the best thing for you. Let you move on honey. Please think about it. James feels his wife’s hand warmly grip his arm.

For a second he just keeps his eyes fixed forward, but then he gives in and looks into her eyes. He sees all the love and support she has given him for the past twenty years, shinning back at him. Almost like a light coming from her heart, lighting up the darkness he sees she’s right. Its time to sell the place.

You are right dear, its time. I thought this place would make me feel closer to them, but it makes them feel further away than when I’m not here. I will sell the place, but only if the buyers know what happened here. I couldn’t bare to sell it to someone without them knowing the history.

Quite right, I guess we will have to get some men in to paint, and empty the place. Is there anything you want me to get you from in there?

I have everything I desire from that place, the photos are enough for me. No it can all go to charity if they will have it.

Okay, but James dear only if your sure.

I am sure, it’s time to move on. Let it be a loving home again, instead of a building full of bad memories and dreams. No, when we get back I will make the calls. Maybe this time in a month or two someone will take the place off our hands.

That’s the spirit dear, I been wanting to talk to you about this for so long, but thought you would take it bad.

Maybe I would of, but the time feels right now, I can’t hold on to it any longer. The rest of their journey James smiles to himself, happy that the worst part of his life will soon behind him. That he will be able to move on and be happy. He knows he will never forget his family or what happened to them, but he knows selling the house now will set the whole horrible event firmly in his past.

2nd September 2013

Linda Cussler, an estate agent in her fifties, sits behind her desk in her office. For her its been a slow day, not usual for her, seen as the town of Coby is only small, even for English standards. With a population of only 3000, property sales only come in every so often. Most of her companies sales are from properties around Coby, not in it. In her twenty years of owning the company, she has only seen the odd place go up for sale. Most recent was the big farm on Croft street, owned by old man Drake. The house and land by far is the biggest in Coby, and the most luxurious.

Old man Drake quiet often had offers on the place, from locals to people passing by looking to move to the area. But he would never sell it, it’s only now that he is dead its up for sale; the property been passed to his son who lives in London, and has no interest in farming.

Linda Cussler was tempted to put an offer in herself, that house had always caught her eye. Even as a child driving past it she wanted it, dreamed of living in it. You may ask why she decided twice about buying it now she has chance. Money isn’t the reason, her and her husband are the most well off in the small town. No, for Linda it was the way old man Drake met his end. For those of you interested