On September 28, my wife and I will board a plane bound for Maui, Hawaii, almost 4 years to the day since we last left that island. Every 4 years, the company my wife works for has a big conference out in Hawaii. The bonus is that I get to tag along, so let me tell you all about the rollercoaster of emotions I went through the first time we made that trip.

I was in a very different place 4 years ago, with poor mental health beginning to sink its nasty little claws into my fragile brain once again. When the opportunity for me to travel with my wife came along, I initially said no. The idea of a trip of that magnitude filled me with a level of anxiety that was almost impossible to shake. One night, while out having a beverage or six, my wife asked again, and I agreed to go. She had my flight booked before I could sober up and change my mind.

As tends to happen, all my fears slipped away once our journey began. The moment we set foot on Maui soil; I could sense that this was a place that was a little different. By day 2, my phone was turned off, and I allowed the serenity of the island to flow through me. I have never felt more relaxed or in tune with a place, other than my native Scotland, in my life. To say that I was emotional when it came time to leave is putting things rather mildly.

When we got home, I felt changed. I was as though the “sick” part of me stayed behind, while the goodness of Hawaii came home with me. That good feeling lasted quite some time, but eventually, it began to wear off, with reality beginning to drag me down again. Two years after that, I found myself in the ER under the weight of yet another crippling anxiety attack. The good that came out of that was that I got back on medication and started a healthier lifestyle, which included getting back to creative writing.

While I know what to expect from our trip this time around, I’m not sure how it will affect me mentally. I assume I will slip back into full relaxation mode, but will it stick when I get back home this time around? Will the aloha spirit stay with me for the next 4 years? There is no way I can predict the answer, but this time, just like the last, I will say Mahalo to Maui and the people who make that island a real paradise.

Buy Me A Mai Tai

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The first time I saw it, I knew I should have left well enough alone, but leaving things be is not in my nature. Even as a kid, I was always poking my head into things, earning the moniker of Curious George from my mother. I’m sure she would have something to say about my current situation, but she is not around to give me one of her disapproving headshakes and a lecture about my ability to get myself into all kinds of trouble.

I am, I suppose, getting ahead of myself a little, so let me tell you about how it all began. Tired of the city life, I bought a house out in the country. It was a humble home, but it sat on a lot of land surrounded by dense forest and the kind of solitude that might make the average city slicker more than a little uncomfortable.

As quiet as it was during the day, it was nighttime when I realized that I was not quite alone on my new property. The forest seemed to come to life as soon as the sun went down, with all kinds of hoots and howls echoing through the night sky. I’ll admit to being scared at first, but as time went on, my innate sense of curiosity kicked in. I had to know what animals were stalking my woods at night.

I invested in a set of trail cams, each of which I positioned at different spots in the forest. While the daylight hours were quiet, I was sure I could feel eyes on me as I installed my new devices. I’m sure this sounds like paranoia, and I might even believe that if things hadn’t turned out the way they did.

On the first night, I was delighted to see all manner of forest critters show up on my feeds. Deer, raccoons, squirrels, and all the usual suspects made an appearance. What was odd, though, was that one of the cameras revealed nothing. I went out the next day to make sure I had installed it properly, which I had. The feeling of being watched was strong and I fairly bolted out of that spot, imagining spectral hands reaching for me. The skin on the nape of my neck prickled as I ran, small hairs standing to attention like lightning was about to strike.

For the next few days, it was more of the same. I would see a hive of activity on three of the cameras and nothing on the fourth. On day seven, that all changed. The fourth camera began to trigger at frequent intervals, but nothing appeared, at least, nothing that I could see. I enhanced the footage as best I could, which was when I was sure I saw something moving in the distance. It was little more than a silhouette and should not have been close enough trigger the camera.

Each night, the camera went off at the same intervals, only this time, I could clearly see movement. At first, I thought some animal was passing through the area, since it looked as though thin branches were moving as they passed. Then again, now that I think about it, branches are usually attached to trees, not simply somehow floating inches off the ground.

When the thing finally came into full view, I felt as though my heart would stop. It was tall, yet walking on all fours that looked like thin, gnarled branches. Each of its legs ended in another series of branch-like appendages that serves as fingers gripping the earth to propel the beast forward. The body was emaciated, puffing out like a bellows as the thing took a breath. It was an awful sight to behold, but the head, the head was the worst. It appeared to be the skull of a deer, but not quite. Something was off in the design, and the massive black eyes were not anything I had ever witnessed on any other living creature. When it looked directly into the camera, I heard a voice in my head say, “Curious George.” It was not the voice of my mother.

The thing became bolder with each passing night, moving closer to the camera and turning itself around as though to show me everything, to let me see its full true form. I posted video of the creature online in all manner of wildlife social media forums, but they ran me off, accusing me of posting AI video. I decided then that I would show them the truth, so I decided to head out there with my phone to record live. Good luck debunking that.

The moment I set foot in that part of the forest, I knew I was making a mistake. Nothing moved there and no sound could be heard in that tainted space. When I decided it was time to leave, the creature stumbled out of the woods, moving toward me faster than I had ever seen it move on the trail cam. I expected the scent of rot, of something old and dead, but nothing touched my nostrils. The only thing I felt was a slight tugging sensation inside my head, which became painful as the thing leaned down to stare at me with those dead onyx eyes. I saw things in those eyes that are beyond explanation, and I screamed before blacking out.

When I awoke, I found myself strapped down to a makeshift metal bed. The room around me dimly lit and bare. I turned my head and saw the creature there with me, watching me. And then there was another and another and one more and they moved toward me holding implements that were not of this world. I squeezed my eyes shut and let them have their way, poking and prodding and slicing me open, only to quickly heal me and numb my pain.

I don’t know how long I have been here now, strapped to this same bed and subjected to the same torture every night. In my head, I hear snippets of conversation in some language, with Curious George the only words I understand. Again, it is not my mother’s voice.

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Back in the day, I watched and fell in love with a little movie called Local Hero. It always felt like a love letter to Scotland, which is part of why I love it, but I’ll readily admit that I never imagined it as a horror story. It seems that David Sodergren did.

Just as in Local Hero, The Haar focuses on a small Scottish town crumbling under the weight of a billionaire American businessman who wants to develop the land. A few of the Witchhaven locals choose to fight to the bitter end, but one by one, their resolve withers away, or is stripped away by the goons intent on doing the bidding of their billionaire boss.

Muriel McAuley proves to be the final girl standing, although at her age, girl is probably not the best description. One day, while out walking the coast she loves, Muriel finds a strange creature and nurses it back to health in her bathtub, with the help of some blood. When the thing takes on the image of her husband Billy, who was lost at sea years prior. Muriel gets the chance to say goodbye on her own terms.

How she gets to that goodbye is equal parts heartwarming and brutally violent. Make no mistake about it, The Haar is a horror story, but it is one with a heart, one where love is eternal. Sodergren is fast becoming one of my favorite authors. His ability to sprinkle humor and real emotions in among the horror is an absolute joy to read. The Haar is a book that is going to stick with me for a minute, making it an easy 5-star read.

5 stars out of 5

Local Hero Blu-Ray

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The number of new releases this week is ridiculous, which is a good thing for book lovers. Instead of going through them all, I am going to pick out 5 titles that really call out to me. I will have a link to my Amazon store at the end of this piece where I will have all the new books will be in place, so go over there and shop at your leisure. With all that said, let’s get to my picks for this week.

Banquet for the Damned by Adam Nevill

I may have mentioned before that Nevill is one of my favorite horror authors, so I am delighted to see another new release. Making it even better is the fact that the story takes place in Scotland in what is sure to be another chilling tale of folk horror.

The Big Bad Book of Kaiju Anthology

I grew up loving monsters of all kinds, so this collection is calling out to me. It also helps that the list of authors in this anthology is a massive as the monsters contained within.

Incarnate by Alma Katsu

This is proving to be a fantastic week for me, as Katsu is another author whose work I admire. In Incarnate, the story is of a failed influencer who goes to work with a coder to create a new version that will infleunce the masses.

Insatiable by Erica Ridley

I promise that I am not simply picking books with a connection to Scotland. This gothic tale of terror set in a boarding school on the Isle of Skye sucked me in with the cover first. The blurb also sounds fantastic, so it had to make the shortlist.

#Vandeath by Brian Asman

This indie author hit it big with “Man, Fuck This House” a few years back, so this is a much awaited return from him. Again, influencers are in the spotlight, with a pair of vanlifers going to great lengths to prove that one is better than the other.

All told, there are 26 new releases this week. If you want to take a look at them all, you will find that at the top of the page on my horror Amazon Influencer store at:

https://www.amazon.com/shop/influencer-f3318dd3/list/ACHVWO7PN3BW

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For me, Nevill is one of the best horror authors in the business right now, so I go into his books with a higher level of expectation than most. It is perhaps because of those expectations that No One Gets Out Alive did not fully hit the mark for me, but that is not to suggest that it is not a recommended read.

This almost feels like two books in one, with the first half telling the story of Stephanie. She is a girl, down on her luck, who moves into the only place she can afford in a new city. From the off, she believes that the place is haunted, but that soon becomes the least of her problems, as the two men running the place have other ideas for her and the girls who live in the house.

The decisions made by the main character will frustrate, you, but there are also some great moments of the folk horror that Nevill is known for throughout, although the pacing feels stilted at times. The scene in the basement is nightmare fuel of the highest order.

The second part of the book deals with the aftermath of Stephanie’s time in the home. It is also a little meta, as she has written a book about her experience called No One Gets Out Alive, which was a nice touch, since it made me feel like I had just read her book. In this portion, she is living a much better life, but the house i still haunting her for reasons that soon become apparent.

My main issue with the book was the length. There were definitely times where it felt as though it were dragging a little, but Nevill’s writing is so good that I never felt like setting it aside. While this is not, in my humble opinion, his best book, it is still one that I would recommend to folk horror lovers, as Black Maggie is going to stay with you long after you finish reading.

4 stars out of 5

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Yesterday, while scrolling through Substack, I saw a note from Emerald City Ghosts asking if anyone had stories about The Hat Man. If you are unaware of this shadowy figure, he tends to show up in the wee hours of the night and is generally associated with sleep paralysis, although there are those who have other ideas about who The Hat Man may be.

I have not seen this creepy dude, but I have a friend who might have. This story goes all the way back to the early 80s and my teenage years. I was still on Scotland at that time, and I remember my friend looking freaked out and frazzled at school. When I asked him if he was okay, he shared a couple of stories that gave me the creeps and made me somewhat unwilling to ever set foot in his house again. I will tell you about The Hat Man first, after which I will share another story about a figure who made it into my dreams many years later.

My friend lived in a rather ordinary row of attached condos in an ordinary Scottish subdivision. He slept upstairs in this 3-bedroom home, which formed a U-shape at the top of the stairs. His room was tucked in one of the corners, with the bathroom at the opposite end. On this night, he stumbled out of bed to go use the bathroom, crossing the top of the stairs on his way. Seeing movement out the corner of his eye, he looked downstairs and saw a man in a hat standing at the bottom. He described the look of the man as being like something from a 30s gangster movie. The shadowy figure had his head down and seemed to be focused on something in his hand.

At the time, I remember thinking that this was an incredibly creepy ghost story, but it wasn’t until I watched a documentary called The Nightmare that the idea of The Hat Man popped into my head. Now, if you haven’t seen this documentary, I suggest you get on it, as it is aptly named. I had trouble sleeping for days after watching it, which is not cool for someone as desensitized to horror as I am. In the movie, people talked about their experience with The Hat Man, and one little nugget jumped out at me. Several people mentioned that when they saw him, he was holding a pocket watch in his hand. Was that what my friend saw all those years ago?

I mentioned there was another story from that same damn house, so let’s get to that. My friend’s sister had a few experiences there, but there is one in particular that makes me full body shudder every time I think about it. As the story goes, she woke up one night and felt as though someone was in her room watching her. She rolled over and saw a stone man kneeling beside her bed staring at her with real eyes. She, of course, bolted from the room screaming bloody murder. When the parents went to check, nothing was there.

That story has always stuck with me, and I liked the idea of putting the stone man into a story at some point, although that is yet to happen. He did, though, make an appearance in my dreams. I should mention here that I have always had very vivid dreams, many of which are of the nightmare variety. In one such dream, I was at a theme park to go on an attraction called Hostel: The Ride. It was set inside a massive warehouse in which a massive maze had been built. As I made my way through the labyrinth, I could hear screams and agonized wailing, all of which got louder the deeper I went. I eventually stepped into an opening to find my dad strapped to a wheelchair and totally out of it. The stone man stood in the corner of this room, his real eyes fixated on my old man. As I watched, he strode forward and sliced the top of my dad’s head off using a rusty curved blade. Worms and maggots spilled from the wound, and I woke up drenched in sweat.

That nightmare came about 30 years after hearing the original story of the stone man, so it is obvious he is inside my head looking for a way out. I think the only way to purge him is to write about him and give him some sort of life. If I do come up with a story for this creepy dude, I will share it here.

The Nightmare Blu-Ray

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Another Tuesday means another round of spooky new releases, and as always, there is a little something for everyone. I will pick out the one that calls out to me the most, but I would also love to hear which title is calling to you guys.

10 Things I Hate About Zombies by Hazel Graves

I was torn about whether to include this one or not, as it appears to skew heavily toward romance. There does seem to be enough of a supernatural aspect to add it, so you guys decide.

American Nightmare by Kelly McWilliams

Fans of historical horror are probably going to get a kick out of this one, which is set in the south during the Jim Crow era. A man rediscovers an entity that has had its eye on him for some time.

The Girl in Green by Laura Creedle

Another very cool looking entry in the YA Horror genre, with this one set in a school where a monster is reported to be lurking. Are the stories behind student disappearances true?

A History of Malpractice by Clarice Montgomery

After a job loss, a young couple are forced to move out of Chicago and into a building left behind by a doctor. The problem is, though, that the dead doctor is still roaming the halls.

I Am the Monster Under the Bed by Emily Zinnikas

This might well be my pick of the week given that the blurb sounds bonkers. A girl who survived a massacre as a teen becomes a reclusive painter. She ends up asking her childhood boogeyman to help her track down her stalker.

In These Gilded, Ghostly Hearts by Gwendolyn Kiste

This is another interesting one, as it ties in with The Great Gatsby in a supernatural way. This sounds like a classic ghost story set in familiar territory.

Normal for the Spider by Hank Schwaeble

A female femme fatale who shrugs the label of serial killer, despite the fact she leaves countless bodies in her wake. Her life takes a turn when she runs across a secret society called the Book Club.

Observer by Nicholas Russell

A young woman returns home to find her mother’s belongings on her doorstep. Everyone believes the mother is dead, but the woman refuses to believe so in this debut horror novel.

Rooted by Leopoldo Gout

This one might well win cover of the week. This is the new release from the author of Pinata, and it set in Mexico City, where The Flayed One is loose.

The Rouse by China Mieville

This one does not seem like it is going to be an easy read, as it spans a lot of time and appears to be an unsettling character study into a pair of different lives.

Sleep Well, Mommy by Mi-Ae Seo

This is the tale of a psychologist who interviews a serial killer only to discover that her conversation somehow has an impact on her creepy stepdaughter.

Something of a Calling by Zoje Stage

Okay, I take it all back. This is the book going to the top of my list this week. A detective on the brink of retirement is sucked back in by killings were chunks of the discovered bodies are missing.

This Movie Doesn’t End the Way We Want by Hailey Piper

Another cool concept with this one. Three girls head out to see an obscure, underground movie, but only one gets out alive. Years later, the sister of one of the missing girls uncovers the truth behind an urban legend.

A Thousand Monstrous Forms by Saratoga Schaefer

A hasty marriage has some believing that the young artist is in it only for the money, but she is determined to make it work. The secrets in her new home have other plans.

Unearthed Ancient Ruins Anthology

Ancient sites are explored in 19 different short horror stories. The collection of authors taking part in this anthology is fantastic, making this a must read.

We Run the Night by Peace Mbengei

We close this week with another great looking entry into the YA Horror genre. Supernatural entities go after the students in a Kenyan boarding school.

That’s it for this week, but rest assured that I will be back next Tuesday with another round of new horror book releases.

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Chapter Eleven

Marina

The sun beat down on the garden, a square bricked area at the back of the house surrounded by large planters. Marina sat in a chair swing and rocked back and forth, enjoying the feel of the morning sun on her skin.

She had come downstairs a little later than usual and was surprised to find the house quiet. Her chef wasn’t due in until later, but she expected to see Bethany busying herself with one thing or another. While mildly annoyed at the lack of activity, she decided to push that aside and simply enjoy the peace and quiet.

Turning at the sound of a door opening overhead, Marina looked up and saw Catriona peeking over the railing that wrapped around each level. “Come on down,” she called. The girl waved and headed for the stairs, descending slowly.

“Good morning,” Catriona said, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“How was the first night in your room?”

“It was wonderful. I don’t think I’ve slept on a more comfortable mattress.”

“Good. That space is yours to do with as you wish.”

Catriona fidgeted nervously and looked around the garden area, her eyes falling on a separate building at the far end of the yard.

“Do you see anything there?” Marina asked, leaning forward.

“I’m not sure. It looks as though it is sitting in the middle of a desert like it’s a shimmering mirage.” She opened her mouth to say more but snapped it shut when the ability to find the right words appeared to drift away.

“I’ll show you the interior later. You might need to ready yourself for what you will see.” Seeing the girl stare at the old slave quarters made her uncomfortable. She picked at a stray thread on her sweatpants and quickly changed the subject. “Did you happen to see James or Bethany this morning?”

“I thought I hear someone moving around in the wee hours, but I was out pretty hard, so I wouldn’t count on it.”

Something felt off to Marina. She tried to write it off as James and Bethany staying up a little too late on their first night home, but that didn’t seem quite right. Both were reliable and good at their jobs, so it was more than a little disconcerting that neither had made an appearance.

She picked up her phone and toyed with the idea of calling James, but she decided to hold off and wait a little while longer. Her patience was rewarded a few minutes later when he appeared in the garden carrying a tray holding a coffee pot and some cups.

“My apologies for the late nature of the delivery, Madame. I must be getting old. That drive did me in.”

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air as James poured it into the cups and handed them to the women.

“Chef is here and preparing breakfast as we speak. It shouldn’t be more than a few minutes before he is ready to serve.”

“Sit and join us for a coffee, James,” Marina said.

“I have a few things I need to attend to, Madame.”

“I’m not asking,” she replied sternly. “Sit.”

Marina watched as James poured a cup for himself, looking for any sign of a tremor or nervousness, but he was steady as always. “How is Bethany? No one seems to have seen her this morning.”

James stared over the top of his coffee cup, unblinking. He took a drink, placed the cup on the table, and said, “She left early. A call came in from her mother in the early hours of the morning. Her father is quite sick, and her mother wanted her home. She said to apologize on her behalf for leaving without notice.”

“Oh, the poor dear. Well, if you talk to her later, as I’m sure you will, please pass on my best wishes.” The conversation seemed normal and natural, but Marina couldn’t help but feel like she was in the midst of a chess match. She shot a glance at Catriona, who was savoring her coffee and looking around the garden, blissfully unaware of any tension. Perhaps it was all in her head. The events of the last couple of days had been draining and left her feeling oddly vulnerable.

“Shall I go see to breakfast, Madame?”

“No, James, that’s fine. Let’s all go inside and eat. I want to read some more of the journal to Catriona and then show her the bathing room. Can you make sure that things look presentable in there?”

“Of course. It should be ready for viewing by the time breakfast is over.”

***

The chef fussed over them both, continuing to pile food on their plates even while they complained that they couldn’t manage another bite. Marina eventually brought the proceedings to a halt by exclaiming that she would need to skip lunch if he continued to make any more food. The idea of missing a meal was abhorrent to Chef Paul, so he cleared up their dishes and disappeared into the kitchen.

Marina pushed back from the dining room table and made her way into the living room, where she picked up the journal and returned to join Catriona. “I have a confession to make,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“I read ahead last night. There isn’t much more to her story. Most of the journal is nothing more than empty pages with what looks to be smears of blood.”

“Are you disappointed?” Catriona asked, dabbing at her lips with a napkin.

“I suppose so. The truth is that I didn’t know what to expect. It appears the legend of the story is bigger than what I have here.” Marina opened the book and flipped lazily through the pages. “Given what I know about her through the internet is that she passed rather suddenly. I believe that she scribbled down as much as she could in her waning hours. I suppose this is the best I could have hoped for.”

“I would still like to hear the rest if you don’t mind, Miss MacCarthy.”

Marina stood and held out her hand, which Catriona took. “I think I know the perfect place to read it to you.”

Hand in hand, they stepped out into the garden and headed for the building Catriona had asked about earlier. The old slave quarters’ bricks were painted white, the windows covered with red fabric on the inside. A heavy oak door looked old, but it was obviously solid, as was the oversized padlock that kept out unwanted visitors.

Letting go of Catriona’s hand, Marina reached into her pocket and retrieved a large key, the top of which had a large encircled “M.” Marina slipped the key into the padlock, opened it, and placed her hand on the handle. Turning to face Catriona, she asked, “Are you sure you are ready for this?”

The girl nodded even though every instinct was telling her to turn and run.

The door swung open easily, revealing an open space that was shrouded in shadows and darkness. Those shadows seemed to move, but it may have been nothing more than the daylight creeping inside and trying to fill the space.

“Wait right here for a moment,” Marina said, stepping inside and moving into the shadows.

The sound of a match being struck filled the air, quickly followed by the smell of sulfur wafting over to the open door. The sound and smell repeated a few times, the interior of the building becoming more visible with each strike of the match. Marina quickly moved around the room and lit the oil lanterns dotted around the space, filling the room with an ambient glow that might have been cozy were it not for what the light revealed.

The walls were made of exposed bricks that appeared to have been charred by fire. The floor was also made of bricks, but they were mostly covered by a layer of straw that looked new. Six thick wooden pillars jutted up from the floor, acting as supports for the cross-hatched timber roof structure. Each of the posts had manacles embedded in the wood while also holding a pulley system with ropes stretching across a claw-foot tub in the center of the room. Off to one side, there was a barred jail area where a pair of women lay on battered mattresses in even worse shape than the one in Catriona’s old living space.

Seeing the look of horror on Catriona’s face, Marina rushed over and put a consoling arm around her shoulder. “I know it’s a shock, dear. Are you okay?”

Swallowing hard, Catriona nodded, her gaze shifting over to the naked women passed out on the mattresses. “Are they dead?”

“No. They are drugged up on the poison of their choosing. Come in and allow me to explain.”

They crossed the room to a pair of chairs behind the tub, the straw crunching under their feet with each step. Catriona placed her hand on the charred bricks, which were cool to the touch.

“What do you see?” Marina asked.

“It’s not what I see; it’s what I hear.” Catriona leaned over and pressed her ear to the bricks, eyes closed.

“What is it?”

“Are you telling me you can’t hear the scratching? I thought it might be rats.”

Marina laughed. “I can assure you that we don’t have rats here and, no, I don’t hear anything.”

“Why are they all black? Did you have a fire?”

“Those are the bricks from the original LaLaurie Mansion slave quarters. When they rebuilt this place, they decided to use some of the pieces that survived the fire. Adds a nice little touch of authenticity, don’t you think?”

Catriona pulled her hand away from the wall as though burned.

Crossing her legs, Marina placed the journal in her lap and studied Catriona. She had hoped for more from the girl, had believed that she might see or feel something after arriving at the house. Perhaps a full view into her bathing ritual would open the girl’s eyes. “Before I read, I have something to ask.”

“You can ask me anything.”

“I want you to have the full experience of the house, so I would like you to bathe with me this evening.”

Catriona’s face flushed crimson, and she looked ready to bolt out of her seat.

“This is not some sexual favor I’m asking. Think of it as a way of expanding your mind and getting to know myself and the house a little better. Perhaps it will help deliver a clearer picture of my future.”

“The blood. Where does it come from?” Catriona asked, already knowing the answer.

“You already saw my two houseguests over there,” Marina said, nodding in the direction of the barred room.

“Will I need to…”

“James will take care of everything. He will hang those things over the tub and slice their throats, bleeding them dry. He will then fill the remainder of the tub with hot water and some essential oils that are good for the skin. Honestly, it will look and feel like scented rose water. It’s a pleasurable experience, Catriona.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to burst free. “What did those women do to you? How were they chosen?”

Marina leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “They are filth. Drug users, whores, and thieves, users and takers. They contribute nothing to society but pain served cold to their loved ones. They don’t deserve to live. I am doing the world a favor by removing their like from view, permanently.”

The scratching sound intensified in Catriona’s mind as she listened to the rant. She wanted to claw at her ears to try and make it all stop. “Won’t their blood be tainted?” she finally managed to ask.

“That is the secret, my sweet Catriona. Elizabeth and Delphine bathed in the blood of the innocent and needy. It is the blood of the corrupt that heals, the rottenness filtered out when it touches the skin of the noble and good. There is an endless supply in this shitty world, and I will tap into it for as long as I live, which I imagine will be for quite some time.” She sat back and flipped open the journal. “So, are you with me?”

The world seemed to spin out of control for just a moment. She closed her eyes to regain control and caught a brief glimpse of a pot of water boiling on a stove. She focused harder on the pot and saw that it was blood, not water. Chunks of meat bobbed to the surface and rolled over, revealing themselves as fingers, burned down almost to the bone. Catriona opened her eyes and spoke. “Aye. Count me in.”

With a smile, Marina looked down at the journal and began to read.

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Let’s get things started by addressing the elephant in the room. If you are going into this one expecting some bandage wrapped creature from inside an Egyptian tomb rising to exact revenge, you are going to be disappointed. While there is a connection to Egyptian lore, this is, at its heart, a possession movie that feels like a mash-up of The Thing and The Evil Dead.

In the opening of the move, we see a happy young family living in Egypt, where the man of the house is working with the media. They are heading home soon, but before they can do that, their daughter is taken by a mysterious woman in a rather creepy little scene. From there, the movie jumps forward 8 years, where it is revealed that the girl has been found. The problem is that she is not the sweet, precocious little thing she was when she went missing.

Even though the girl looks like death warmed over, the parent brings her back to the States and try to integrate her with the rest of the family. I don’t think I am giving up any major spoilers here by telling you that this is not the joyous reunion that the parent were hoping for. This is, though, where the stomach-churning aspect of the movie begins.

While I was watching all the madness unfold, I could not help but think that The Mummy existed in the Evil Dead universe, which would make sense given the Cronin had recently done ED: Rise. By all accounts, he has suggested that it is indeed part of that world. The gore is great, to the point of being cartoonish at times, but I will say that you do have to suspend disbelief to quite an exceptional level. Some of the decisions made by the parents will have you yelling at the TV.

All in all, though, I really enjoyed this one. I was already aware, based on what I had seen and read, that this was not your regular mummy flick, so I was not disappointed that it went the way it did. I initially gave this one top marks, but I think I am going to shave a half-point due to there being some definite issues with decisions made within the movie.

4.5 Stars out of 5

The Mummy 4K Special Edition

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It wasn’t so very long ago that I removed all my old books from Amazon and decided that my publishing days were behind me. Upon reflection, it was a hastily made decision but still one that I don’t really regret. Once I decided to return to Amazon and self-publishing, the decision was made to leave all my old books in my Buy Me A Coffee store, while the Zon books would be my new chapter. There was one title, though, that niggled at me, so let me tell you the story of The Hollow-Eyed Girl.

This was a story where the title came to me first, almost from out of nowhere. I had zero idea what to do with it until I bought my daughter a Christmas gift. It was one of those games where they mail you out a bunch of clues, and you have to solve a horror mystery. Suddenly, the title I had in my head felt like a good fit for one of those games.

I set about writing it as usual, and when I was done, I sent it in to my publisher. They suggested that it might be a good fit for a box set of books that was about to go on a run to try and land in the USA Today Bestseller List. The idea of having that title above my author name seemed appealing, so I accepted the offer, which also meant delaying the release of the book for about one year.

You see, a list run is not something that happens quickly. You essentially spend a year of your life promoting the set and trying all kinds of things to get people to pre-order. The goal is that when that year is up and the book goes live, you will have sold enough units to land on the list. You also find out that not every author involved in such things is willing to put in the work required to get you there.

By the time release day was rolling around, my publisher felt confident. She had done this a few times before and the numbers were better than usual. Everything looked great, and then Dr Seuss happened. You might not remember this, but a few of his books were labeled problematic and were set to be pulled from the shelves. The internet overreacted and thought the good Doctor was being cancelled, so they went on a buying spree. Something like 5 or 6 of his books made the list, and we missed out.

It was a soul sucking experience, not to mention an expensive one, as being in these list runs comes at a cost. It almost spelled the end of my writing career, as I was totally disillusioned, mostly because of the few authors who did nothing during the run. Had they put in the effort, we might well have succeeded.

Anyway, a while after the fact, I released The Hollow-Eyed Girl as a standalone to little fanfare. My regular readers had already bought the set, and while some nabbed the paperback, the book totally tanked. I probably sold less than 10 copies, which I thought was an unfair end for a little book that I really liked. It became my forgotten title, until now.

The more I thought about it, the more I believed that this story deserved a second chance. Some of it is because it is a fun read, but another part is that the main characters are named after my kids. I loved the idea of putting them in this adventure, using parts of their real personality within the characters.

So, with the decision made, The Hollow-Eyed Gorl is getting a rebirth. I have put the eBook up for pre-order at just 99 cents, although that will jump to $2.99 on release day, which is September 29. The paperback will be available on that day, too. I am not much of a sales pitch type of guy, but I hope you will give this book the life I thought it deserved.

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He woke with a start, brushing furiously at his arm. It felt as though something had been crawling there, something with furry little legs that tickled as they moved. Heart pounding, he snatched his phone off the bedside table and activated the flashlight. Casting the glow across the bed, he saw no sign of a spider or other insect that may have been using his exposed arm as a bridge to the other side of the bedroom. With a shudder, he cut the light and rolled over, hoping to quickly return to dreamland.

Thinking pleasant thoughts, he closed his eyes and tried to relax, tried to put the thought of some eight-legged freak crawling over him out of his mind…and then he felt it again. That tickle. That sensation of movement. He slammed his palm down on the affected spot, yelping in pain at the force of the blow. There was no satisfying crunch and no smushed bug on his hand or arm. The thought of heading to the couch crossed his mind, but he was not about to let some annoying little bug force him out of the most comfortable spot in the house, and so he settled down again.

The third time was the worst. This time, the crawling sensation started on the side of his face and moved down his arm. He tried to ignore it. After all, what harm could a little spider do? Any thought of remaining cool vanished when the tickling reached his ear, followed by what sounded like a breathy whisper. He slapped at his face and grabbed the phone again. This time, when he turned on the flashlight, he saw the cause of the tickling sensation, and he screamed.

Long locks of black hair descended from the ceiling, brushing against his exposed skin. Using the light to follow the path of the hair, he saw her hovering above the bed. Her eyes were black like those of a shark, the light from the phone adding spots of life to otherwise dead, soulless pits. Her skin was pale and run through with black veins, but it was her smile that was the worst. It was all teeth, too many teeth, all honed to points. She grinned wider still, the skin of her cheeks splitting open and dripping ichor.

“Wakey wakey,” she said as she dropped onto the bed.

Buy Me A Mai Tai

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The Long Steps

Beyond the furthest reaches of the burial grounds there sits a barren place. Where the main cemetery is well maintained, the empty space is little more than dead earth.

There are stories about this spot, though. Tales of nights when the air feels thin and crooked steps emerge from beneath the fallow ground.

Witnesses tell of people ascending the steps, arms raised to the night sky in reverence. Those people are never seen again, but on the nights of ascension, choral voices echo across the land. The sound is off, like a warped record played at the entirely wrong speed.

Gnarled

When seen at the right angle or under a certain light, it seems as though a face is carved into the bark of the gnarled old tree. The face never looks the same. More often than not, it smiles, but there are times when it grimaces.

Some say that it is little more than a cruel trick played by Mother Nature, while others suggest that the tree is there to judge who enters the cemetery it guards.

When the tree approves, it sucks in the souls of the dead, smiling. When someone rotten enters, that is when the grimace emerges.

The Gravedigger’s House

The cemetery has accepted the dead of the town for centuries, the tombstones stretching as far as the eye can see. All of it is maintained by the gravedigger, although no one knows who he is.

Whenever a death occurs, a new pit emerges overnight, six feet deep and perfectly formed. The assumption is that it is the work of the gravedigger, but no one has ever seen him leave his house.

If they did, they would see a robed figure standing where the light from within the rotten old mansion falls on hallowed ground. His work is never done.

*******************************************************************

The three stories for today were all written rather quickly and came from the image below:

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James

As soon as they stepped inside the house on Royal Street, Marina mumbled a hasty goodnight and told James to give Catriona a quick tour.

“Quite the day, huh?” James said.

“Aye, it’s been interesting for sure.”

They moved quickly through the house, skipping the garden area and the floor that was home to Marina. James smiled as he saw the look of wonder on Catriona’s face. It was the same expression that he saw every time someone new entered the property, and the same one he probably wore himself the first few days he spent in the mansion.

Leading her up to the next level via a wide, winding staircase, James led her to a room at the end of a long hallway. Throwing open the door, he flipped the switch and gestured for Catriona to go inside. “This will be your room. Bethany has already put away your clothes and added a few new pieces. Anything you don’t like, we can exchange later.

Wandering into the room, he pulled close the curtains on the two tall windows on either side of the four-poster bed. “There is an ensuite bathroom through there,” he said, nodding at a closed door on the opposite side of the room. “Bethany has added some basic toiletries, but again, we can get you anything else you might need tomorrow.”

Catriona stood in the center of the room and turned slowly, taking in all the tiny little details in wide-eyed wonder. “It’s gorgeous.”

“It’ll be even better when you make it your own. Bethany and I are at the opposite end of the hall. If you need anything, come and knock. Goodnight, Catriona. We hope you’ll be happy here.”

“Thank you for everything.”

“It’s all part of my job,” James said as he left the room and shut the door behind him.

He trudged down the hall, the hours of concentration on the road settling into his bones and making him weary. He was almost out on his feet when he stepped inside his room and saw Bethany sitting up in bed, waiting for him. “How was your day, beautiful?”

She jumped off the bed, made it across the room in a couple of steps, and grabbed him around the neck, smothering his face in kisses. “I’m so happy you’re home,” she said between pecks.

“Me, too. I’m ready to crash.”

Bethany pushed away and held him at arm’s length, staring at him for a moment before saying anything. “We need to talk first.”

“This can’t wait, can it?”

Shaking her head, she moved back to the bed and patted the space beside her.

James stripped quickly down to his boxers and hopped onto the bed, the mattress threatening to suck him down and hold him in a tender embrace. “Okay, tell me what’s up.”

Bethany sucked in her breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Where has she got you going this time?”

“No, I’m leaving for good, and I want you to come with me.”

Suddenly wide awake, James sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Wait, where are you going?”

“I called my parents and told them I was coming home for a bit. I cleaned out my bank account today,” she said, nodding at a stuffed backpack sitting in the corner of the room. “I have more than enough to buy a nice little house and do nothing for a few months. If you do the same, we can pool our resources and…”

James held up his hands and shook his head. “Bethany, I can’t just up and walk away from here on a whim. I am in charge of a team that will be left high and fucking dry if I leave. Have you told her yet?”

“I’m not telling her anything. I’m getting in my car tomorrow, leaving, and never looking back.” Tears began to fall as she spoke. “I cannot take this anymore. I love you, and I feel sick when she touches me, but I feel powerless to stop it,” she sobbed.

Not sure what to say, James pulled her in close and let her cry. A million thoughts ran through his mind, not the least of which was how to react to her profession of love. He wasn’t sure that he felt quite the same way. He did care for her, but running off and living the happily ever after life felt like a bit of a stretch.

Bethany pulled away and dabbed at her nose with the back of her hand. “I know you don’t love me, but I’m willing to wait until you do.”

“I…look, I need some time with this. If I am going to leave, I’ll need to wait until she finds my replacement.”

“Have you not been paying attention? She is going insane. That Irish waitress is just another in a long line of decisions. Marina will kill me if I stay, and she’ll eventually kill everyone who knows her secret.”

James thought about the conversation he had heard in the car earlier and felt a knot form in his stomach. “She is a little off right now, I’ll grant you that, but she has these weird little spells every so often.”

“We should kill her,” Bethany blurted out.

James hopped off the bed and began pacing the room. “Now who’s talking crazy?” he asked.

“Think about it, James. Could you take a moment and think about it? How much longer do you believe she can get away with what she is doing? If the cops catch up to her, no amount of money will save her from the death penalty, and we’ll be right there alongside her. It’s only a matter of time. This house is cursed.”

Voices from the street below carried up to the bedroom. James moved over to the window and pulled back the curtains, just in time to see a young couple walk up the street hand in hand, laughing at some shared joke. He often looked at other people and wondered about the normality of their lives. He imagined that they were all bored senseless, working 9 to 5 jobs in some dreary office space. His job was dirty and violent at times, but it made him feel alive. Still, that gnawing at his gut that began with the journal and the Irish girl persisted. Maybe it was time to move on.

“What are you thinking?”

James pulled over the curtains and returned to the bed. “How do we kill her?”

Smiling coyly, Bethany said, “That’s not really my area of expertise, now is it?”

His brain kicked over into work mode, all the possible means of murder running through his mind as though he were flipping through a Rolodex. He spent a lot of alone time with Marina, so overpowering her and strangling her was a possibility, but it was an idea that didn’t appeal to him. He wasn’t sure he could look his boss in the eye as he took her life. Poison was another option, but that would mean getting her personal chef involved or trying to slip it in when no one was looking. The Rolodex turned and turned until it landed on the newest card, the one with Catriona’s face and the flames on it. He took Bethany’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m not promising you a life together, but I can promise that we will both be free of this place tomorrow.”

“That’ll do for now. Get over here and kiss me.”

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As we edge ever closer to spooky season, now seems like the perfect time to load up on some new horror titles. As always, it is a busy Tuesday, as there are plenty of great new reads to choose from. Let’s look at what’s hitting the shelves today:

Acid Green Velvet by Grace Krilanovich

It has been more than 25 years since this author last released a novel, which was highly acclaimed. In this one, we explore a small town that is home to cults and all manner of strange people.

Adam, Mine by K. Ancrum

A queer YA romantic thriller that has Victor Frankenstein at the heart of the story. Victor wants to change the world and show off his genius, but do his experiments with an ailing boy cross the line?

All Hallows Eve Anthology

Just in time for spooky season, we have an amazing collection of authors all assembled in one book. Stephen Graham Jones, Josh Malerman, and Alma Katsu are just some of the heavy horror hitters with entries in this anthology.

The Band From Another World by Kevin Garone

This is the final book in the Alien Survival Guide trilogy, so if this is new to you, it might not be a bad idea to go back and read the first two in this kid’s series.

Darling by Mercedes M. Yardley

A woman returns to the small Louisiana town she grew up in after the death of her mother. She stumbles into a situation where several children are found murdered, after which her own child goes missing. A nice slice of southern gothic to sink your teeth into.

Daughter of Rot by Rios de la Luz

The blurb for this one sounds like a bit of a fever dream, as we have a family moving into their dream home by the woods, only to find that the home delivers a new room shortly after their arrival.

Driven by Mason Coile

A man purchases a top of the line self-driving car, but when he gets behind the wheel, the vehicle takes him on a terrifying journey. Locked inside, the man must deal with the demands made by his new ride.

Feed the Tree by Wendy Dalrymple

Set in the Florida swamp region in the late 1800’s, this book tells the story of a young woman who returns to look after her ailing father. When she encounters a swamp witch who can grant wishes, the woman has some choices to make.

Hearsepower by Stephanie Sanders-Jacob

Seems as though we have another haunted car with a mind of its own in this book. This time around, it is a 1963 hearse that is calling the shots.

How to Survive Camping by Bonnie Quinn

Every campground has a list of rules, but do those rules apply when something that is certainly not human begins to stalk one of the campers?

It Pierces by Jack Finn

I’m sure I have mentioned more than once that I am a big fan of folk horror, which is why this might be the one that is calling out to me the most this week. Four men in the Adirondacks in 1935 encounter something supernatural.

Kissing Carrion by Gemma Files

This author has won multiple awards for horror and is now releasing a collection of short stories. Her previous work is great, so there is every reason to believe there will be some gems in here.

A Mother’s Rage by John Evans

I love a good revenge story, and this one seems like a beauty. In the Alaskan wilderness, hunters kill a pair of kids and injure their mother. Hell bent on revenge, the hunters soon become the hunted.

Our Dark Unraveling my Margot McGovern

Young love gone wrong, as a girl in a restrictive boarding school summons the spirit of her dead boyfriend, who died in a tragic accident. Sounds like a fun YA horror read.

Pictures of You by Josh Malerman

After a night on the town with her boyfriend, a woman wakes up in a room that she does not recognize. A picture frame on an easel at the end of the bed may serve as the only clue as to what is happening.

The Quiet Resurrection of Sister Evelida Livingston by Nick Wallin

In this small-town horror, a pair of girls are burned alive in a corn maze that seems somehow ritualistic. Sister Eve, who sees and knows things others can’t, is brought in to stop the evil before it spreads.

She’s a Doll by Barbara Truelove

Trapped in the body of an antique doll, a woman is hell bent on finding the man that killed her. Given her predicament, she needs help from her friends.

We Turn Gruesome at Night by Eric LaRocca

Ten years after a gruesome Christmas morning massacre, a small town is still struggling to recover. When a stranger arrives in town, the chances of recovery quickly seem unlikely.

Wildwood by Ashley Woo

If you are looking for a new author to obsess over, then perhaps this might be the book for you. This is the first novel from Ashley Woo, and it is a chilling gothic mystery story.

That is it for this week. I am sure you will all be able to find something you like. I’ll be back next week with another round of new releases.

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In my personal opinion, the best horror movies are the ones that play with your emotions during the entire run time. If you spend the entire time thinking that all the characters are dumb and deserve to die, things tend to become a little tedious. The moment you start rooting for someone or feel a level of empathy for a character; you find yourself sucked into their world.

There are a lot of ways in which good horror movies play with your emotions outside of the characters. Music is one way to do that. You can tell that a critical moment is coming when the soundtrack takes on a scary tone. The again, when things get quiet, that can also be a sign that things are about to kick off. It is in those quiet moments that jump scares become part of the equation.

Perhaps it is because the quiet speaks to a sense of calm that we end up getting caught out by a well-placed jump scare. Even if you are sure that a scare is coming, you often find yourself still somehow surprised by it. This is especially true if there have been several such moments within the movie where the scare did not arrive as expected.

The Problem With Jump Scares

Now, I will say that there are horror movie tropes that I love, while there are others that I am legitimately tired of. Jump scares fall somewhere in the middle for me. If they are used too often or as filler in a story that is poor, they are annoying. If, on the other hand, they are done in a way that legitimately works, then you are looking at an infusion of fight or flight that can keep you off balance for the remainder of the viewing experience.

My Favorite Jump Scares

I am going to go with two different scares here, one of which actually made me yell out loud in the theater. I’ll get to that one in a moment, but let’s start with The Conjuring. For me, the first movie is still the best in the bunch. The scene where the mother is at the top of the cellar stairs and the hands clap right behind her is the stuff of nightmares. Definitely creepy, but it is Se7en that goes to the top of the jump scare list for me. The scene where they are examining what they believe to be a dead body, only to have that damn person go off is about as horrible as it gets. Yes, I yelled out loud and almost punched my buddy in the face when that scene played out.

It goes without saying that these two movies are my picks for this week. I usually toss in a book, too, but I’m not so sure the written word applied to the world of jump scares. If I’m wrong, please do share a book that worked for you in that way.

That is all I have for this week, but I shall return next week with the next in the A-Z of Horror series. Hope to see you all then.

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The Conjuring Steelbook

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Given how many people have told me about this movie over the past few years, it is perhaps shameful that it has taken me so long to get to it. Before I dive in, let me present a little context. I watched this one on my laptop with the headphones plugged in, which I believe added to the overall experience. With that said, let’s get into it.

The movie opens with video of a pair of young guys trying to break into the legendary Room 402 in the asylum. We then find out they went missing, which is when we are introduced to The Captain, who talks about his channel, Horror Time, and how they are going to do a live feed from the asylum.

The opening 20 minutes or so are spent meaning the people who will take part in the livestream, which includes three invited female guests. I found this section to be rather tedious, as the characters are all rather loud and obnoxious. It is important, though, as they do feed some details about the place they are going to visit and record.

Once we get to the asylum, it becomes clear that the group are chasing views and money. If they can get to 1 million views, they will earn $500,000. I won’t say too much here, but with that much money on the line, you can guess that there might be some shenanigans taking place to help build an audience.

The movie takes a sharp turn at about the one-hour mark, as it becomes clear that what is happening in the asylum is not at all for the sake of the shoot. We see frequent cuts to the viewer count, and it begins to feel that the location is playing it up to the audience as the numbers rise.

This found footage style of filming is always a little hit and miss, but I think Gonjiam did it about as well as you could. The sound design is astonishing. They take a minimalist approach, relying on the ambient sound of the location to the point where it feels like there is an unsettling hum sitting just below the surface. The shifts between camera angles and moment of extreme chaos to quiet calm leaves you off balance and unsettled. The great thing, too, is that they don’t rely too heavily on jump scares, choosing instead to let atmosphere do much of the heavy lifting.

The last 15-20 minutes of Gonjiam is the absolute highlight of the movie and will be appealing to those of you who love the Korean approach to horror. There was one scene in particular where I looked up to see my wife laughing at me. I had shifted to one side of the couch, angling away from the laptop, while shouting, “What the fuck is that?” The are not many horror movies that can do that to me, which is why Gonjiam: Hunted Asylum gets top marks. If you want to give it a watch, it is available for free on TUBI, although that does mean watching some ads.

5 Stars out of 5

Gonjiam Limited Ed. Mediabook DVD

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Marina & Catriona

Catriona flinched as Marina slammed the journal closed with a resounding thud. “Why are you stopping there?’

“I want to savor it. You could go online and easily find Elizabeth Bathory’s story. Still, so much of it is pure conjecture, with some historians even claiming that her cruelty was nothing more than a story fabricated for political gain.”

“The truth is in there?”

“Yes, at least what she could get out before she died. It was all rather sudden, but she knew her time was coming, much like you seem to know my end.”

Moving back into the kitchen, Catriona shook the excess water from a pair of cups drying on the counter and filled them both with coffee. She handed one to Marina before turning her back and saying, “Years from now, Miss MacCarthy. Remember, you looked old. Given how you look now at your age, I may not even be around when it happens.”

“You felt as though you were there, though. Perhaps we are sisters destined to grow ancient together.” Marina blew on her coffee before taking a sip, savoring the bitter taste as she drank.

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Bethany stepped inside, smiling widely. “Good morning,” she called.

“You’re early,” Marina said, glancing at her phone.

“I apologize, ma’am, but I was up and wanted to get a start on things. I also wanted to know whether you wished for Catriona to come with me on the jet or with you and James in the car.”

“She’ll be coming with me. Now that you’re here, you may as well start packing. Could you also pick me out something casual to wear and draw me a bath?” Marina flashed a cheeky wink at Catriona. “Nothing exotic, you understand? Just water and perhaps a fizzy bath bomb.”

The girl flushed as she looked at Bethany, who wore a shocked expression on her face.

“Am I to gather that our new friend is up to speed with the job requirements?” Bethany asked.

“More or less. You two can get acquainted while I have a soak. How does that sound?”

“As you wish, ma’am,” Bethany said before rushing off to the bathroom, seemingly eager to be out of sight.

The sound of running water filled the room as Marina leaned back and savored the final few drops of her morning brew. “What do you think of Bethany?” she finally asked.

“She seems nice. Is she okay with me coming to live with you?”

“She’ll get over it. Bethany is a bit of a jealous sort and probably thinks that you are my new little toy. She’ll fear that I am about to cast her out, or worse, so the poor dear will fret and try to work that little bit harder. That’s why she is here so damned early this morning.”

Catriona glanced towards the bathroom, the steam billowing out of the door making it seem all the more inviting.

Following her gaze, Marina said, “I know you won’t join me, but you are welcome to have a bath or a shower when I am done.”

“I’d like that.”

“Good. I’ll have James bring up your things so that you can change.” Marina pursed her lips and looked the girl up and down. “I will take you shopping for new clothes when we get home. You are moving up in the world and should dress accordingly.”

“I have some money saved. I can—”

“You’ll do no such thing. Let’s call it one of your perks, much like your citizenship, which will be yours within the week.”

“I’m not even here legally. I’m not sure it’ll be possible.”

Marina strolled into the kitchen and placed a hand on Catriona’s cheek. “When you have power, anything is possible.”

***

After dropping Bethany and most of the luggage off at a private airstrip, James had made good time once out of the city. The SUV hummed along I-65, the city of Mobile flashing past outside the tinted windows. Marina could tell that Catriona was itching to talk, but the test of her patience was going well. She would make for a loyal employee, so Marina decided not to prolong the agony any further. “Have you ever been to New Orleans?” she asked.

Perking up instantly, Catriona said, “I haven’t been anywhere in America other than Savannah unless a three-hour layover in Atlanta counts.

“I travel extensively, so you are going to get to see a fair bit of the world, assuming you decide to stay with me.”

“I’d love that. Tell me about New Orleans. Did you grow up there?”

Marina slid down in her seat and leaned against the headrest. “Yes. My family has been a part of New Orleans since around 1730. Believe it or not, Catriona, I have some Irish blood in me.”

Catriona’s eyes went wide. “Your family is from Ireland?”

“Barthelemy MacCarthy came from Ireland and settled in New Orleans, although he shortened the family name to Macarty for some reason. I won’t bore you with lineage details, but the important part of the story came in 1787 when Marie was born. She was the one who put a black mark on the family name and set in motion a ripple effect that has carried over into my life.”

“I hate to interrupt, Madame, but I need to stop for gas,” James said. “Can I get anything for you?”

“A bottle of water, please. How about you, Catriona?”

Trying to stifle a yawn, Catriona opened the passenger door and slid out of the car. She leaned over and peered inside. “I think I’ll pay a visit to the ladies’ room. We still have a few hours ahead of us, and I don’t want to have James pulling over and stopping on my behalf.”

“You’re right. I’ll have James find us a place where we can have a bite to eat and a drink.”

Catriona glanced down at her clothes and began to pluck at a stray thread hanging from the bottom of her T-shirt. “Can we make it somewhere grubby? Maybe a place where I won’t stand out like a sore thumb?”

“A dive bar it is,” Marina replied. “I could murder a greasy burger.”

***

With a smile, Catriona closed the car door and hustled across the gas station forecourt. She stepped inside the shop and scanned the interior before finally spying the restrooms tucked away in the far corner. She nodded to James as she passed the cashier, where he was loading water and snacks on the counter while also pre-paying for the gas. He gave her a tight smile and turned back to the task at hand.

The overhead light in the restroom flickered and hummed, threatening to die at any moment. Not fancying the idea of being stuck in the dark, Catriona quickly did her business, washed her hands, and headed back outside.

The sky had turned dark in the short time that she had been gone. Thunder rumbled in the distance as lightning danced within the clouds, begging to be let loose. As the first fat drops of rain fell, Catriona headed for the cover of the car, jumping inside just as the skies opened up.

“Where did that come from?” Marina asked, leaning back and staring out through the panoramic sunroof.

“James is going to get drenched.” She peered out the darkened windows and watched the driver pump the gas, leaning casually against the vehicle, a black umbrella held aloft.

“That man never misses a thing,” Marina laughed. “He’ll be fine.”

The sound of the gas pump shutting off echoed through the interior of the car. Catriona watched as James rattled the nozzle to squeeze out the last few drops. As he turned to replace the nozzle on the pump, she began to feel as though all the air was slowly seeping out of the car. As she struggled to breathe, she could feel Marina grab her arm. Everything slowed to a crawl, the thunder overhead coming in one long monotone rumble. Catriona opened her mouth to scream as James leaned down and peered in the side window, the skin on his face melting as flames licked at his entire body. He exploded in a blast of brilliant light, pieces of charred flesh hammering down on the sunroof and blotting out what little remained of the daylight. Closing her eyes, she finally managed to scream, but when she opened them again, everything had returned to normal.

Marina held her tight and rocked her like a child, while James looked on with concern from the driver’s seat.

“You’re okay, James? You’re really okay.”

He flashed a double thumbs up and turned back to the wheel.

“Get us to the nearest bar. This one needs a stiff drink,” Marina said. “Quickly, please, James.

***

The place was small and dark, the only customers a pair of old men who sat at the bar and talked loudly about politics. The waitress looked bored out of her mind as she dropped food-stained menus on the table and took their drink order.

Marina waited until their server returned with the drinks before she began to speak. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, honestly. Just another one of my wobblies.” Catriona gripped the glass of Scotch before her for a second before tossing it back.

“What did you see?”

Glancing sheepishly at James, who looked as cool as the ice in his glass of water, Catriona shook her head. “Pardon my shitty poetry, but it was James in flames. He…well, he exploded in front of my eyes.”

As if on cue, a glass dropped by the waitress shattered on the floor. The two old men at the bar ceased their argument for a moment to cheer and applaud the mishap. The waitress cursed them both and threatened eternal banishment from the bar, but that just seemed to goad them into greater levels of torment.

James let out a cough and rapped on the table. “Uh, excuse me, but can we get back to the bit about me blowing up? Pardon me for asking, Catriona, but are you high?”

“Not high, no. I see visions of the future.”

Sputtering water back into his glass, James tried to speak, but a choking fit killed that possibility.

“I should explain,” Catriona continued, “that what I see is not necessarily a true vision of what is to come. Maybe you are about to get sick with a high fever.”

“I suppose that beats a lighted stick of dynamite going up my ass,” he rasped. Turning to Marina, he held up a hand and said, “My apologies for the crude language, Madame.”

She waved him off as she cleared a space for her food on the table. The burger looked like a heart attack waiting to happen, but Marina gleefully rubbed her hands when it was handed over. “I’m so glad you made it to the table without dropping it,” she joked.

The server grunted as she placed the rest of the order on the table. “Everyone’s a comedian today,” she grumbled. “Can I get you anything else?”

“How about a smile,” Marina said.

“That cost’s extra,” the server replied, plastering a fake smile on her face.

“It’ll be reflected in your tip.”

They ate in silence, save for the occasional moan of pleasure from Marina, who savored her meal like it was a cut of the finest Kobe beef rather than a greasy burger that probably started the day as a frozen patty.

Catriona ate a few bites before tossing her napkin on top of the plate and sliding it away from her.

“Not hungry?” Marina asked.

“Not really. I always get a little rattled after one of my moments.”

“Anything James or I can do to help?”

“Well, I’d like to hear the rest of your family history, if you don’t mind.”

Marina shoveled in the last bite of the burger and sucked the grease from her fingers. “That I can do. Now, where did I leave off?”

“You were talking about the birth of Marie.”

James pushed back from the table, the legs of his chair squealing in protest as they scraped along the stained concrete floor. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies, I’m going to stretch my legs a little before we hit the road again.”

Tossing a wad of money to the driver, Marina said, “Can you take care of the check on the way out? Oh, and make sure that our delightful waitress gets a nice tip. She did, after all, grace us with a smile.”

The men at the bar greedily eyed the stacks of bills that James handed over to the waitress, who looked genuinely happy to see a customer for the first time since Marina’s group arrived. As soon as James turned his back, she stuffed the money down the front of her shirt and stuck out a tongue at the oldtimers before pouring them both a shot on the house.

“Yes, Marie. Marie Delphine MacCarthy. Several times married and one of the most prominent socialites on the New Orleans scene.” Marina sipped at her drink and continued. “By all accounts, a nice enough woman until her third marriage to a doctor named Leonard LaLaurie. After the wedding, she became known as Delphine LaLaurie, perhaps because it sounded somewhat more regal and exotic than Marie. She was the reason my branch of the family tree reverted back to MacCarthy.”

Catriona looked deep in thought for a moment. “That name sounds familiar. Delphine LaLaurie. How do I know that?”

With a disgusted grunt, Marina said, “I’m sure there have been awful movies made about her.”

“Was she that bad?”

“It was after her marriage to Leonard that things took a nasty turn. She purchased a house on Royal Street, a beautiful two-story mansion complete with separate quarters for the slaves. Let’s just say that she was not kind to her servants, torturing and killing them for a period of about three years.”

“Just like Bathory.”

“Indeed. She was eventually found out but managed to flee to France before an angry mob descended on the Royal Street property and set it aflame.”

The waitress returned to the table to offer a litany of thank yous as she cleared up the dirty dishes. “Can I get you a to-go cup?” she asked. “I can even spike it with something a little stronger.”

“No, thank you. Have a wonderful day,” Marina said as she gathered up her things. “Let’s take this back to the car. I’ll tell you the rest there.”

They stepped outside and found James sitting in the SUV right by the front door, blinkers flashing. The women held hands as they hopped over a puddle that had formed on the sidewalk, giggling like children as they made it safely to the other side. They bundled into the back of the car and waved goodbye to the waitress, who was now outside the bar lighting a cigarette.

“How much further, James?” Marina asked.

“We should be home in about three hours if we don’t hit traffic.”

Stretching out her legs as far as they would go in the cabin, Marina folded her hands over her stomach and yawned. “That burger was so good. Nice and pink on the inside.” Noticing Catriona’s wide-eyed expression, Marina laughed and said, “I know what you are thinking. I don’t drink blood.”

“That’s not what—”

“Yes, it was, but I suppose I should get to all of that so that you don’t think of me as more of a monster than I already am. Shall I continue with my family story, or would you rather rest and continue later?”

Catriona shifted her position to turn and face Marina. “I’m all in. Tell me, please.”

“Kick me if I start to nod off. So, after the fire, the extended family did all they could to distance themselves from Delphine. There were a few, though, who wanted answers. After all, how does a woman who appeared to be a lady in public turn out to be inherently evil behind closed doors? It wasn’t long after the fire that the rumors of the journal being in Delphine’s possession began to circulate.”

“The journal you have now?” Catriona asked.

“The very one. No one knows how Delphine came to own it, but it seems that she became obsessed with the idea of copying Elizabeth Bathory’s wicked ways. Perhaps she too wanted eternal youth, or maybe it was the thought of torture and bloodshed that turned her on. Either way, everyone believed that the book must have been destroyed in the fire, and good riddance.”

“Not you, though.”

“No. Delphine’s story changed a little as it passed down through the generations, but the journal part remained a constant. I have heard about that damn thing since I was a girl, and I knew in my heart that it was real and out there somewhere.” Marina reached into her bag and retrieved the book, gently caressing the cover. “I have paid a lot of money for phony copies over the years, but as soon as I saw this one, I knew it was the real thing. It is, after all, part of my family history.”

The vehicle’s interior darkened as the SUV entered a tunnel, the lights from the dashboard making kaleidoscopic patterns on the leather seats. Marina opened the journal and ran her fingers across the coarse paper, like a blind woman reading braille. “Elizabeth paved the way for Delphine, but they both got it wrong. I have perfected the method of using blood for eternal youth. Look at me, look upon my beauty.”

Catriona eased herself as far away from Marina as possible, watching as the interior lights caused her eyes to sparkle.

“This journal holds Elizabeth’s spirit inside. It touched Delphine, and now it is reaching out to touch me.” Turning to glare at Catriona, she said, “Maybe you aren’t part of the threeness after all, but you are still some other part. Maybe I’m just tired.”

From the front of the vehicle, James spoke. “We’ll be home soon enough, Madame. Get some rest.”

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