by Matthew Williams
In 1629 something visited the parish of Feckenham. The events that followed were so terrifying that they never gained their place in the history books.
Now in 2008, something seems to be wrong with Marie Watson’s young children.
Her father won’t believe her and her mother is nearing the end of her tether.
Marie feels utterly alone.
But is she?
Helen stormed into the office and glared at DCI Royal with accusing eyes, she went to speak but Royal got in first.
“One word Roberts and you’re off the case too!” he said with an icy cold stare right back at her. As the two of them locked eyes, three people, cut and bloodied, burst in through the door at the rear of the office. A man in his late forties leapt on to the back of the seated DCI Royal slamming his icy stare into the desk with an almighty crack. A woman in her early forties knocked DI Scott to the ground and ran at Helen. She braced herself and took hold of her upper arms as she was forced back against the wall. DI Scott shuffled back into the corner and hugged his legs while the struggle ensued. DCI Royal was a bloody mess, bleeding heavily from his face as the man continued to smash his head on the desk. The third person, a boy no older than ten was on all fours as he crawled towards DCI Royal. Helen saw the boy over the shoulder of her assailant as he tore flesh from Royal’s leg with his teeth.
“Do something Scott for fuck’s sake!” Helen screamed, “Danny!” she yelled as loud as she could, desperately hoping that he would hear her. Scott had drained to white and was huddled in a tight foetal ball with his eyes screwed shut, he was helping no one and failed to realise he’d be next. The woman snapped her teeth towards Helen’s face but she was able to push away hard enough to make her miss and turn her around so she was facing the wall. “Danny help me!” she yelled again, now only able to hear the child chewing flesh rather than see it; it wasn’t any less disgusting. Helen pushed the woman’s arm up her back and forced her to the ground; still she gnashed her teeth and struggled to twist over. Danny cracked her across the base of the head with his baton knocking her out cold.
“Thanks,” Helen panted, reaching for her cuffs to make sure she wasn’t getting free if she came to. DCI Royal was dead and as the boy chewed on the flesh from his leg, the man was tearing at his throat like a wild beast.
“Who the fuck are these people?” Danny asked rhetorically. He stepped towards the boy and cuffed him with ease; the boy snarled and drooled like a feral dog, the meat from his kill spilling from his jaws. Helen took the child and sat him next to the woman with her foot in his chest to keep him from getting up.
“Scott!” she shouted, he was whimpering pathetically and struggled to force open his eyes, which were full of terror. The man stood tall behind Royal’s slumped corpse, sucking the slivers of flesh into his mouth. “Have you got this Danny?” Helen asked seeing him edge out from behind the desk looking at her partner. Helen grabbed her radio, “Hal, Moran; get to the control room now!” she shouted into it.
“Hey Roberts, you’re early; you and lover boy having a tiff?” Moran joked.
“Cut the shit and get here Moran, DCI Royal’s just been eaten alive!” Danny span round and kicked the man square in the side of the head; he folded over sideways hitting his head into the desk and then flopped flat out on his back.
“Yeah I’ve got it,” he said, turning towards Helen. “You okay?” he asked.
“Better now thanks,” Danny searched the man for some id, he found his wallet and pulled out his driving license; he looked over at Helen.
“Sam Little, that’s the family I told you about; what the fuck happened to make them like this? I guess that’s Eve, and that’s Carl” he pointed at the others.
Hal and Moran ran into the office.
“What the fuck? I didn’t think you were serious, Jesus Christ!” Moran said seeing Royal slumped back with his throat torn open.
“Moran, keep it together and tie these three up properly will you; I’m gonna get some backup.” She stood back and stretched her leg while Moran and Hal took over restraining the boy. “And keep away from their mouths if you don’t want to end up like Royal.” she patted them both on their backs, “thanks.” Helen knelt down in front of DI Scott. “How quick can you get the armed response unit here sir?” DI Scott looked across at DCI Royal.
“Is he dead?” Scott whimpered and squirmed back in the corner crying.
“Yes he’s dead and you need to pull yourself together before we all are,” He just cried louder. “Scott!” Helen shouted, slapping him across the face, “you need to get the armed response unit here now!” He opened his eyes and Helen held his teary stare, “you need to step up and do this sir,” she said calmly; hoping to get through to him that way instead.
“Helen,” Moran wanted her attention, she looked up and he was gesturing towards the door as if to seek her advice; she seemed to have taken charge of the situation with her authoritative manner.
“Danny, get him out of here,” she saw a cameraman in the doorway filming the scene. Danny was on it already, noticing the man at the same time as Helen. He manhandled the cameraman out of the door and wrenched the camera from his grasp.
“Hey, you can’t do that!” he objected loudly. Danny proceeded to smash the camera on the floor. DI Scott had calmed quickly after realising the immediate threat had been quelled and he clambered to his feet.
“You can’t do that Curran,” suddenly he was trying to claw back his authority at the same time as sniffing backs his tears. Danny looked at him as he stamped the camera angrily.
“You want this shit on the news?” He gestured around the room, “you want videos of you cowering in the corner all over the internet do you?” The cameraman reached down and started grabbing pieces of his camera. “You get out, I won’t tell you again,” Danny said. Helen, Hal, and Moran all looked at him dagger eyed; the man left quickly, leaving his equipment behind.
“Are you sorting the armed response unit or am I?” Helen asked of DI Scott.
“I’m calling the chief of police; he’ll know what to do.”
“Just get us some backup sir, before any more crazies come through here.”
The Shady Corner
by Matthew Williams
A shady corner in life can be a dark and mysterious place, but in the shady corners of the mind, the mystery and darkness know no bounds!
In a struggle with his conscience and haunted by images of murder, David is given a choice to right the wrongs of his past.
Can he cheat fate and avoid his future? Or is the evil that dwells within him more than it seems?
Only one thing is certain . . .
Fate can be cruel, but true evil can be brutal!
Unable to stomach the sight before him, he looked down at the object in his hands. It was a sculpture; a brass sculpture wet with blood, similar to a totem pole, but square in section and plainly decorated with five granite like faces, spiralling from top to base. Every edge was either sharp or pointed; its razor like form had torn his hands to shreds. Noticing these wounds made him aware of the pain they were causing him. The sculpture dropped on to the blood soaked tiles; shattering them as it hit and he raised his hands to his face. A sea of red covered his palms, but oddly this seemed to relax him a little; focussing his attention away from the horror within the room on to the agonising sensation that was biting his nerves.
As he watched the blood ooze from his fingers, he flexed them back and forth; his tendons writhing in the blood, like worms in soil. The sight made him feel dizzy and nauseous, and he slumped down into the shady corner once again, his body now limp and weak. After a moments stillness he noticed a ray of sunshine cast its light upon his boot, he raised his head and peered across the room; the horror that had earlier repulsed him was now far clearer than before, shards of light ensnared it with crosshatched shadows from the windowpane.
A scarlet corpse lay on the tiles, still twitching in the sunlight; blood soaked flesh hung loosely from the bones, in small ragged pieces. David could see it was a woman’s body, but otherwise unidentifiable. Her lower limbs were the only part of her not beaten beyond recognition. “Oh God! What have I done?” He sobbed, “I couldn’t have done this, I don’t even know who she is?” David raised his hands to cover his mouth; he could taste the blood as it seeped passed his lips, wetting his dry palate. The woman’s torso was a mass of torn flesh and fabric engulfed with blood, her rib cage was smashed open exposing her lungs to the sun, cooking them; steaming them with its heat. Her skull was shattered; its splintered fragments protruded through the torn flesh on her face and one of her eyeballs lay ruptured on her cheek, still attached by the optic nerve; the clear bloodstained jelly running down towards the floor. Several flies buzzed and hovered about her pulverised corpse, homing in on its stink. A couple of the flies fed in her cranial cavity, like desert vultures on a carcass.
Born in 1975, Matthew Williams has been a keen fan of the horror/thriller/fantasy genres for as long as he can remember. Whether it’s a film, a TV series, or a novel; he is drawn to all the different aspects of these genres. Mainly it’s the complexities and the mysteries that can be expressed with freedom and imagination that he enjoys the most.
A fan of authors such as Stephen King, James Herbert, Dean Koontz, Richard Layman – to name but a few!
A fan of TV shows such as Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead, Breaking Bad, American Horror Story – to name but a few!
A fan of films such as Saw, Seven, Eden Lake, The Descent, Quarantine, Skeleton Key, The Sixth Sense – to name but a few!
Matthew now has a small body of work of his own with ‘The Shady Corner’ and ‘Shadowchild’ only the beginning of what he is determined to grow into an extensive collection of horror/thriller fiction novels.
Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!