Crucible Of The Vampire

By Amanda Murray

Isabelle, a young university researcher, is sent to a country manor house deep in the heart of rural England to verify an ancient object that the family has discovered during the renovation of their home.

 

While Isabelle sets to work verifying its authenticity, she becomes the obsession of the owner's strange but beautiful daughter and they develop a dangerous attraction.

 

Isabelle soon discovers that the object has a cursed history and that the house holds a dark and chilling secret.

A chance finding of a 200 year old journal confirms Isabelle's suspicions that the family are not the only residents at Ashwell Hall and something more terrifying lurks within.

 

The truth is far more shocking than she could have imagined and will change Isabelle's life forever.

 

Around every corner lies another harrowing surprise and Isabelle will be tested to her limits as she tries to escape from the  Crucible of the Vampire, a modern gothic thriller that transports you from the English Civil War to the present day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ghost Dog Films
• Release date: Sep 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201248697

Amanda Murray

Amanda Murray is the author of CRUCIBLE OF THE VAMPIRE a story adapted into an audiobook from the retro gothic film ‘Crucible of the Vampire’ starring Neil Morrissey. She is also the producer at Ghost Dog Films, an English indie film and video game company based in Shropshire, thought to be the most haunted county in England, so plenty of atmospheric inspiration for her to draw on. The daughter of a diplomat, Amanda spent her childhood living in many far flung places around the world which spawned her love of travel. She guest blogs for a premium travel site, sharing her travel experiences and recommendations. She keeps trying to persuade her writer/ director partner to swap filming in cold dark cellars and dusty old manor houses for warmer, more exotic locations. Amanda has a BA Honours degree in English Literature from the University of Leicester, followed by a career in fashion, business development and marketing. Seven years ago she was tempted away from the 9-5  into the labyrinth of the creative world and hasn’t looked back since. www.ghostdogfilms.com Twitter @ghostdogfilms Insta @ghostdogfilms

Book preview

CHAPTER 1: THE DARK ARTS

Her journey had terminated at Longville End.

Getting off a busy train, the girl had stepped off the deserted platform into a quaint, picture- perfect village nestled in the very heart of the county of Shropshire.

It was a Thursday, nothing special about it. It was just like any other weekday except that today, the sun was shining. Glorious late summer sunshine that made you feel glad to be alive.

Only one main road twisted through the village and she had rambled along it gazing out to where the green hedged fields melted into the distant sandstone hills.

She’d passed an old weathered wooden arch stooping over a black wrought iron gate from which a narrow path led up to the doorway of a large church.

Longville Parish Church stood proud and taller than any other building for miles around, its stained glass windows glinted magnanimously in the afternoon sunlight.

A few forgotten jars of flowers wilted in the heat on nearby graves.

Grey stone cottages were embedded along the roadside, their facades crawling with late summer blooms. The Black Horse pub had been shuttered up, closed for afternoon business so no chance of a cold drink in the enticing little beer garden around the back. The girl had slowly meandered along the narrow road until she’d reached the end of the village. There was nothing else for it but to relax and wait patiently for the arrival of her friend.

She sat down on a grassy verge, leaning back against her rucksack lazily eating an apple.

Behind her stretched an ancient woodland, the edge of which was bordered by a low moss covered stone wall. Plantations of Scots pines stood sentry, their looming branches casting sharp inky shadows onto the tarmac road like long accusing fingers.

The earth had that dry summer smell.

The village was so quiet, not even a car stirred, only a gentle and almost imperceptible rustle of the breeze hissing through the trees behind her and the sound of a distant lawnmower cutting grass. Her blonde hair shimmered pale gossamer in the sunlight, her tanned legs stretched out in front of her. Her trainers were worn from a summer of hiking around England and this was the last week before she and her best friend headed back to Sweden and their studies at university.

The girl closed her blue eyes, tilted her head towards the sky, absorbing the late afternoon’s languid rays and breathed in deeply. The faint smell of pine from the woodlands and the dry earth drifted across her senses and percolated in her brain. It had definitely been a month of fun and experiences. This was the last summer before her final year at university and then it would be straight into work so she was keen to make the most of her freedom.

She took off her trainers and socks and wiggled her feet in the grass. Reclining flat out, her hands behind her head, she gazed up at the sky picking out the cloud formations as strange shapes or creatures just as she’d done as a child. A large yellow butterfly hovered nearby settling on a purple headed flower, spreading it’s translucent wings web-like in the sunlight.

She wore a pair of light denim shorts, frayed at the hem and cropped at the top of her thighs. A white vest top moulded the curve of her small neat breasts. A thin gold chain with the letter ‘S’ lay around her throat. The letter quivered very slightly as her neck pulsed rhythmically with her gentle, relaxed breathing.

A beeping sound disturbed the stillness and the girl sat up abruptly, reaching into the top of her rucksack she pulled out her phone. A text message blinked onto the screen:

Hey. Can’t meet up as am stuck in Hereford, trains to Longville End all cancelled. Should be able to get one tomorrow so can meet up at the hostel if you’re ok with that? So sorry A xx

Her brows furrowed, she normally wouldn’t travel on her own. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel safe in this sleepy place, but it was a rule that her parents had instilled into her before she’d gone travelling. She wondered whether there was anywhere to stay in the village but she hadn’t remembered seeing anything that resembled a hotel or B&B and the pub definitely didn’t offer accommodation. The hostel they’d been planning on staying at that night was only around 5 or 6 miles away so she should get there in ample time before it started to get to dark, if she left now.

With a resolved sigh, she tossed away her apple core and rummaged around in her bag for her map. She had picked up one of the local tourist information guides when she’d got off the train at Longville End station earlier. She opened the leaflet to the map section. She looked up and gazed intently at the landscape around her, trying to orientate herself. Unusually, there was nobody around to ask and her friend was the better navigator out of the two of them. She sighed, how difficult could this be?

To get to where she was heading it looked from the map that there was a short cut through the woods which would save her a couple of miles and hopefully some time. The map indicated that there were plenty of trails and picnic spots so it was obviously a safe route. She decided she would head out in a north westerly direction through Jacobs Wood and perhaps visit Longville Falls on the way. If she could cross the river then she could also swing by Baron’s Cross, where an ancient Neolithic tomb was marked on the map. She could then get back on the main road on the way to the hostel.

She picked up her phone to message her friend back;

‘Heya that’s okay. Have fun with your cousins and I’ll let you know when I arrive. See you tomorrow S xx’

The phone beeped to say that the message had been sent but she noticed that the battery on the phone was signalling red. ‘Almost out of charge... that’s weird’, she thought, ‘it was almost a full battery when I arrived here.’

The girl stuffed the map into her pocket, swung her rucksack on her back and turned in the direction of Jacobs Wood.

She walked past a low crumbling grey stone wall that circumnavigated the edge of the woodland. It looked like the boundary of an old country estate. She thought nothing of it. The woods weren’t marked up private property. She entered Jacobs Wood via a small stony track that meandered downhill. She slipped a little as the path was dry after the rainless summer months and the small shingle pebbles were loose underfoot.

She continued on, following the path for about quarter of a mile until it reached the edge of an escarpment. The sudden sharp upward slant of the land surprised her and she stared transfixed at the ancient landscape that unfolded in front of her. Undulating green fields, criss-crossed in the distance brushing the descending blue.

Clusters of houses, small hamlets and isolated farmhouses hunkered down into the land like large rocks with grey tendrils of roads winding through the hedged fields. She could see for miles. The River Tern glistened and snaked towards the Welsh hills like a fat blue pencil line.

She took out her phone to take a photo but the battery was now completely dead. ‘Great’ thought the girl ‘No friend and no phone...’

She continued to follow the path around to the right. She coped easily with the undulating terrain and walked at a good pace, her trainers crunching on the pathway. She began to hum a tune to keep herself company.

The woods were becoming darker as the trees and their mass of leaves eclipsed most of the light. She was taken by surprise when a small black dog came hurtling around a corner. The dog didn’t show any interest in the girl but ran past her, a large twig held tightly between his jaws a look of intent in his dark eyes. Its owner was not far behind. His face partly hidden by the hood of his sweatshirt which he wore low over his eyes. He walked with his hands deep in his pockets, the end of a lead hanging out of one of them. He glanced at her briefly as he hurried past, his eyes furtive and agitated. Or perhaps she was just imagining things. She was on the verge of asking the man directions, but he didn’t look that friendly and he was gone so quickly. With a slight sense of unease, the girl watched him disappear through the trees like a dark sinewy shadow.

By now the path was flattening out but the trees were getting thicker. Thinking that she had perhaps taken a wrong turn, the girl consulted the map again. If she kept left, she should be heading in the right direction for Longville Falls. She listened intently for the sound of running water, but could hear nothing. The woods began to feel gloomier. Whether it was because the sight of the man had unnerved her or her imagination was going into overdrive, she suddenly had a feeling of misgiving. The forest that had felt so natural and comforting was now beginning to feel eerie and strange. She thought she heard a noise, the sound of footsteps? Twigs crunched underfoot? Every tree now began to look menacing and the shadows began to take on human shapes.

Perhaps she should have taken the longer route to the hostel, perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea... perhaps...

‘Oh, for goodness sake’ the girl scolded herself ‘Get a grip, you’re just being paranoid.’

She moved off following the path to the left in what she hoped was the correct route to the Falls. She kept to the middle of the track, walking at a brisk pace. Every now and again she paused, checking if she could hear anything, looking around to see if she could see anyone. The wind had begun to pick up and the rustling sound as it blew the leaves and branches created an unnatural eeriness.

The girl wondered whether she should turn around and head back towards the village. She stood agonising for a few moments trying to decide what to do. She’d been walking for about thirty minutes and she surely must be getting near where the main road could be accessed. Too far to turn back she thought. Clutching the map with one hand she brushed her hair away from her face and tried to focus on where she was heading.

In this part of the woods, the trees were dense, their branches laden with dark green leaves which formed a canopy that shut out most of the early evening light. Young saplings were covering every square inch of ground, pushing long skinny fingers upwards, grasping for sun and air. A coldness emanated from the damp earth which was perpetually deprived of sunlight. The rocks and stones were covered in a persistent layer of creeping green moss.

The girl couldn’t shake off that ominous feeling. She imagined she saw a slight movement by one of the trees. Was she being followed? Was it that guy with the dog? He had been acting a bit weird. Had he followed her back into the woods? She began to feel a bit afraid. She stepped up her pace and hurried onwards. She thought she could hear the sound of water in the distance. If only she could get to the Falls, the road was just the other side of the river, then she would be out in the open again and safe.

Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw a dark shape moving in the trees. She began to pick up speed. The girl was fit and athletic but the pathway was stony and slippy. A couple of times she tripped up on small rocks lethally embedded into the clay soil. She fell and bruised her knees, her bare legs were splattered with mud and in places bleeding, from where thorns and overhanging bushes had lashed across her skin. She was sure she could hear the sound of running water getting closer and she surged forwards. Her heart was pounding in her chest and the thud of her feet reverberated throughout the woods.

Up ahead, she noticed a deep ditch on the left of the pathway almost hidden from view where brambles and bushes cloaked the crevice. Thinking it would be a good place to hide while she caught her breath, she ran towards it scrambling down into the narrow opening and slid almost six feet down, where she squatted on the damp earth. Pressing herself hard against the side of the ditch, willing herself to disappear. She pulled some of the loose branches and twigs over her body in an attempt to conceal herself. Trying to steady her panicked breathing she felt the coolness of the soil permeate her warm skin.

Someone was nearby, she could hear their footsteps approach. She remained motionless, rooted to the spot. A twig cracked underfoot only a few feet away from her hiding place. The creeping unease coursed through her veins like anaesthesia.

She waited anxiously while someone paced up and down and just as suddenly, they retreated. She heard the sound of them shuffling along the path back into the woods. After a few moments, the girl cautiously raised her head above the ditch so she could see the pathway. There was no one there. She listened for voices and the sound of movement but there was nothing. She waited a little longer deciding whether or not to try and make a run for it or stay where she was until it was dark and then