Hollywood Rage

By Craig Wrightson

Prepare yourself for blood, gore and guts by the bucket load!

A Vile has-been movie star deservedly gets his comeuppance on the set of a Hollywood film.

However, things don't always go to plan and in this case the consequences are deadly.

Hollywood Rage is a 14K word GRAPHIC short horror story brought to you by the same author that brought you the terrifying and successful Fragmented Evil 

Predominantly a Classic Horror tale, but be warned that this story also occasionally slips into the genre of Splatter Punk

• Language: English
• Publisher: Craig Wrightson
• Release date: Jun 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201706043

Book preview

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

Dedicated as always to my wonderful and funny children, Kacy and Leon, who are growing up so fast that they will be soon old enough to read this book.

Hope it doesn’t give you nightmares.

Index

Chapter 1   An Unpleasant Start

Chapter 2   True Colors

Chapter 3   Alone in the Woods

Chapter 4   A Night to Remember

Chapter 5   An Unexpected Opportunity

Chapter 6   A Night to Forget

Chapter 7   The Stage is Set

Chapter 8   The Final Act

Words from the Author

About the Author

My Other Books

Chapter 1   An Unpleasant Start

The church door creaked ever so slightly. The cool evening air that tickled the back of his neck was just enough to alert Brodie Steel to the fact that he was no longer alone in the candlelit church.

He cast a furtive glance toward the altar. She was lying there, prone. The chosen one. The virgin sacrifice. Laid out like a corpse, her arms folded together with her long blonde hair brushed straight, laid out over her willowy shoulders. Candles were spaced out around her body, set one meter apart, guarding her till the time was right, casting her body in a faint glow. Her chest slowly rose, barely visible, her hardened nipples projected through the sheer white dress which enhanced her striking figure. Brodie Steel knew he had to act fast. She didn’t have much time left. If he failed, and she passed over to the other side, he was all too aware of the chaos and destruction that would befall the human race. Ill prepared and unsuspecting, they had not borne witness to such misery of this magnitude for many a century.

He turned around, facing the doorway and looked deep into the shadows, seeking out the uninvited guest. He had no time for games. He squinted his eyes as a hunched figure stepped forward into the gloomily lit church and nodded in understanding. It was all becoming clear now.

The priest had aged since their last encounter. His brown robe hung loose on his frail body. He shuffled forward into the light with his head tucked down to his chest.

‘Father,’ Brodie Steel exclaimed, his voice amplified in the derelict church. ‘What brings you here?’

The priest cackled and flung his head back, revealing the face of the devil. Crude horns, more like stumps, with moss burgeoning in clumps, jutted out from his brow. Hysteria radiated from his bulging eyeballs. He studied Brodie Steel in silence and then smiled, revealing a set of jagged, yellow teeth tainted with what appeared to be fresh blood.

The priest spoke, his voice different from the last time they had talked. It was earthy and raw; the words were barked out, commanding, clearly possessed by another.

‘To kill you, my old friend.’

With murderous intent the priest stepped forward, his hands thrust out before him, robotic, ready to grab, punch or strangle.

Brodie Steel was not prepared to take his chances and took the fight into his own hands. Lunging forward, he grasped the silver crucifix that hung loosely from the priest’s neck. Recognition flickered on the priest’s face as the chain was clumsily snapped in two. Brodie Steel brought the crucifix down with all his strength and watched on in fascination as the hardened silver easily penetrated through the wafer-thin skin of the priest’s neck, rupturing his jugular. Brodie Steel withdrew the silver crucifix in one swift motion, allowing it to clatter to the stone floor.

A geyser of hot blood jetted out from the incision, spraying onto the woodworm-savaged pews that lined the sides of the church. The freshness of the blood glistened like a fresh lick of paint. The blood continued to spurt rapidly from the wound, splattering onto Brodie Steel’s starched white shirt and onto his chiseled, whiskered chin. The old priest looked up at Brodie Steel, blood bubbling at the edges of his thin lips, and smiled, welcoming death and the peace it would bring. His legs wobbled slightly, buckling under his own weight and he crashed to floor