The last word was down. The article was written. He looked at the clock. He had time. The editing shouldn’t take too long.
He went into the kitchen and got himself a cup of coffee. The coffee maker fell over.
-Damn! He got a cloth and wiped it up. He could feel something breath him in the neck. He turned around. There was nothing there.
He put another coffee on, and waited. He felt it again. The breathing. He looked at the clock. The deadline was getting closer.
You won’t make it…
He turned around again…
Look! Paladin said to his mother. A book with Grandpa’s handwriting!
Oh, my! Who would have known grandpa was a writer. And the name, “Tales of the Horror”. Haha! Your dark and sinister Grandpa…
They both laughed. Grandpa had been the funniest man alive, always cheerful and friendly. The only moment Paladin had seen him sad was the weeks after Grandma left him.
He sat down by the desk and started reading while his mother kept organising the old things in the attic. They would have to make a lot of trips out here the coming weeks, a lot of things had been piling up through a long life.
The first story was about…
A man was going home alone, late at night. Marlor watched him as he walked towards the forest. His victim. … More
Someone was standing outside. A dark, hooded figure. Looking towards his house. Towards him. He turned the lights off, to … More
Henry finished his story. It was a short little piece, a story about a murder. Dark, even darker than the … More