The Crypt

This is the first part of one of the earliest of my publishing successes. Unfortunately, the magazine it was published in is no longer being produced, however, to preserve the story on the Internet, I thought I would republish it for free for anyone who is interested. I’ll post it over the course of a few weeks with this part being the first: I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” Jane stared at the dancing flames lining the inglenook fireplace.

            “Please, Jane, not again?” Craig was tired, exasperated by her persistence.

            “Why won’t you answer me?” she insisted. “If you can’t tell me when she’ll be back, you must have killed her.”

            “How many times do we have to do this, Jane? She’s gone to get food for the winter. She told you this herself. She’ll be back on Thursday, unless the snow makes the road impassable.” He sighed. “Jane, please look at me when I’m talking?”

            “Why?”

            “Because you’re being rude.”

            “So?” Jane was defiant. “You killed my mother. That could also be considered rude.”

            “For God’s sake, Jane, I’ve not killed your mother. She’s gone to the city. It’s simple.”

            “That’s it, I’m calling the police. They’ll be interested to know all about you; especially when I say I’m to be your next victim.”

            “I’m really sorry you don’t like me, Jane, but I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I got frustrated. I love your mother and want nothing more than to be your and Peter’s friend. I don’t want to be a replacement for your father, but I’d like to be someone you can both trust.”

            “You should be ashamed. You can’t go around threatening eleven-year-old girls.”

            “I’m really sorry; honest. Your mother’s fine. She’ll only be gone for a couple of days.” He folded his arms and settled back into the armchair. “Can I get you a drink? A peace offering.”       

            “Chocolate.” Her head snapped round.

            “Please?” Craig gestured.

            “Hot chocolate.”

            “Hot chocolate?”

            “Made with milk.”

            Craig stood up, nodding his head. “Certainly, Madam.”

            As he crossed the room, his languid gait presented Jane with the victory prize she’d been looking for; she’d won gold this time.

            “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,” she called. She was on a roll.

            Phantasmal shadows moved across the walls, the corollary of the candlelight in an aging house.

            Craig’s head appeared through the archway. “It can also be considered the highest form of intelligence.”

            “Not in your case.”

            Jane jumped up and threw herself into Craig’s armchair. She nestled into the soft leather, silently praising Craig for warming it so thoughtfully. Closing her eyes, she put her head against the cushion and relaxed. It wasn’t that bad without mum around. Her mother had left them plenty of times when dad had been here. Back then there was never any trouble; except for the last time when he’d left for good. But that didn’t matter anymore; they’d all moved on. Fucking bastard asshole.

            She laughed, repeating the profanity over again in her head. Bad language made her happy. She loved the way a word could be considered worse than another word. Surely words are just there for our communicative needs? It’s the meaning hidden within words that’s important. You can be just as malignant towards your prey with strings of harmless words as you can with so-called profanities.

            “Is my chocolate nearly ready?”

            No answer.

            Suddenly he was deaf.

            “Ignoring me now?” Jane shouted.

More next time…

By the way, I’ve finished The Secret of Crickley Hall today (James Herbert’s latest masterpiece) and am heading to the bookshop tomorrow to find something new to get my teeth into. Any suggestions are welcome.

 

Hi there, I’ve just found out that one of my oldest and most favourite stories, Busman’s Holiday, will be appearing in the Christmas edition of Claire Nixon’s acclaimed Twisted Tongue magazine. Here is an excerpt to whet the appetite:

From where he sat, atop a pile of human remains, Satan gazed melancholically into the realm of hell and expelled a deep, pitiful sigh. He was bored. Throughout the whole of eternity mankind hadn’t managed to disillusion him quite as much as now.
Even the awe-inspiring Torture Pit’s of Gomorra, once feared across all seven circles of Hell, could not bring a smile to his demonic face.
Every week he would offer pleasantries to his colleagues at the Council of Evil as they delivered their reports. He would praise them for new highs on Soul Collection Statistics (the SCS rating) now up to sixty two percent on naturally released souls. People were definitely turning from Jesus and, for the minions of the ABYSS, this was a good thing. He sighed again. So, why was he feeling so low?
 

A new comic strip from Linear will also be appearing in this festive edition, taking the place of my own, Sleepwalker, with Frank Sable, Zombie Cop reappearing in the New Year in a blockbuster double issue to really get you going.I’ve just started reading James Herbert’s latest novel, The Secret of Crickley Hall, and what a start! I think this reads as a whole new Herbert, shedding some of his negative characteristics from previous novels, such as Once, instead now easily batting with the big boys of true horror like King. Go James!   

The Secret of Crickley Hall

So, finally I’m moving up in the world. WordPress is by far the easiest of this new generation of web publishing platforms to install and get up and running in a matter of just a few minutes. Anyway, if you’ve visited my site before, much of the content is the same, but you’ll be pleased to know that more regular postings will mark a new lease of life for me and my writing as I start to cover my work with the UK small press magazine, Twisted Tongue — quickly becoming very popular in the horror scene right across the world. So this is now, and for the foreseeable future my “Official”  website and where you’ll find excerpts of my work, articles about what I’m up to both professionally and on the side, as well as general ranting on what’s pleasing me and what’s annoying me.  So this is, for the foreseeable future, my “Official” website and I hope you enjoy the new look and, as always I welcome comments from anyone who interested enough to get in touch. 

Cheers for now… Tony  

Review by William Mitchel  “After the War” by Tony Campbell
I liked the style of this one and the concept behind it — it reminded me a bit of a science fiction drama we had here in the UK a few years ago called “Ultraviolet” (not sure if it made it overseas — basically about hit squads hunting down modern day vampires who are actually carriers of a disease that makes them crave blood but find UV light lethal). “After the War” had the same elements of good suspense and action sequences, with trained, battle-hardened professionals bringing the fight to the bad guys and not taking any prisoners. The relationship between Jenna and Adam is handled well, and its position as one of the central parts of the story actually had me convinced early on that one or other of them was going to be killed by the end. The actual ending therefore took me by surprise, which is always a good thing. A good bit of storytelling all round.