Soul Stealers

By Nathaniel Blood

What would Halloween parties be without creepy old houses; spirits and ghosts; but be sure; be very sure that there's nothing waiting there; living or dead, before you accept the invitation to step through any door.

• Language: English
• Publisher: starshipwriter
• Release date: Mar 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201580957

Nathaniel Blood

Since the dawn of civilization people have avoided dark unknown places, and in that ignorance fear of what may lurk there fills the mind. Let me take you where anything can and will happen, to fantastical places that will chill your heart.  Nathaniel Blood pen's books that delve in the occult, supernatural and apocalyptic. He is one of the founding authors of Starshipwriter

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Soul Stealers | By Nathaniel Blood

Also By Nathaniel Blood

Soul Stealers

By Nathaniel Blood

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Spooks.... Alex’s face broke into a broad grin, Come on Sara, You’re not going to tell me you actually believe in ghosts?

His attitude made her feel uncomfortable. No.... of course not. She could see by his expression he didn’t believe her. Whether he meant to or not, he was making her feel stupid. I'm just saying what people say... A lot of strange things happen there.

Yea. He drawled, almost unable to suppress laughing. Are they the same people who claim they’ve been for a ride in a flying saucer?  Alex waved his hands dramatically in the air. ...With little green...

His total dismissal was making her angry. Maybe she did have a few unusual thoughts, but she had the right to think what she did. She snapped back, interrupting him. It's a waste of time talking to you Alex Metcalf, Sara always used his full name when she was annoyed with him.

The young girl turned and went to walk away, but Alex grabbed her gently by the shoulder, pulling her back around. He was trying to sound serious. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make fun of you, but it's just superstition. Honestly, I really do think it's a terrific idea to hold the Halloween party at the old Murray house.

She just stared at him sulkily.

Everybody’s going, and once you've thought about it you will too.

Sara shook her head. How could he insult her and then think his pathetic excuse for an apology was enough. She knew how she felt; and she felt it was wrong. Sara pulled her shoulder away, and spun around in a huff, her long blond tresses flying out then falling across her face. She was too annoyed to answer him. She walked away, striding down the lane; leaving Alex besides the old oak, hardly able to hide the grin that had begun to spread across his face.

I'll see you there then? He called confidently after her.

It was the most stupid thing she had ever heard, going up there... in the dark. She refused to accept that she believed in ghosts or spirits or fairies; or whatever: though... no that wasn't why she thought it was a bad idea. Ignore all the stories, they were just stories: probably. She didn't want to go because it could be dangerous. That was the real reason, the place was falling apart. It was derelict; and had been since before she moved into the district... Thinking about it, it was strange why it had never been sold or developed; especially as the land had amazing views, and everything; but nobody had lived there in..... How long... twenty... some said thirty; or more; all those years it had been empty. It was a shame really. Anyway everybody had their own opinion, but it was definitely long before she or most of her friends had been born. You would have thought in that time someone...

She was passing the low rough stonewall surrounding Saint Andrews, and she glanced up: over the ruins of the old priory farm buildings; nestled some way back behind the churchyard. There up on the hill, she could just see the creepy building. Standing on its own, about a kilometer and a half away from the cluster of houses that made up the tiny village of Smithsfield. 'Why were all the spooky houses always on top of a hill,' she wondered as suddenly a great clanging noise assaulted her ears. Sara almost jumped out of her skin, before she realized it was just the church bells: almost directly above her now. It was Tuesday; every Tuesday the bell ringers would be practicing in the belfry; just below the castellated tower top

'A very unusual structure.' Mr. Tomlinson, her teacher had told her once. 'It's the only one in the district that was built with a fortified tower.' She smiled at herself: at her nerves, and quickened her walk into the village. She looked at the ancient thatched cottages nestled around the village green and the glass like duck pond. No there was nothing in the