Douglass looks down at his watch and tries to make out the position of the hands, but the lack of light makes it almost impossible. He sighs, and searches the deserted street looking for something to assist him in his endeavour, that’s when he notices a figure move in the window of one of the houses across the road. He stands there silent and still, his blood running cold. Normally this wouldn’t phase him in the least, you’d expect people to move around inside houses. But here in Flackshore, there shouldn’t be anyone.
Abandoned sixteen years ago, the town has stood as a deserted monument to Gregor Flackshore and his deluded vision of creating his own utopia.
Gregor was rich beyond his means, and with the money came the Insanity. He invested millions in his town, as if it was his own private playroom, which in many ways, it was. He spent countless hours designing many of the towns unusual structures with the world’s leading architects, flawlessly outlining his vision.
When Gregor died, the city became the property of his estate, which had detailed instructions for all his assets to be kept in a trust until his son Michael, was fifty-six. Further to that clause, he also had additional steps to be followed if Michael passed away before he reached the required age. As fate would unfortunately have it, Michael was tragically killed in a car accident on his fifty-second birthday, and never got to step onto the hollowed grounds of Flackshore, a desire he lived with his entire life. Following Gregor’s instructions everything was betrothed upon Michael’s eldest child once they too reached fifty-six. Throughout all the numerous pages of instructions Gregor left, none gave reason or explanation of why fifty-six was chosen, all that was known, was that it was, and so it stayed.
When Douglass set foot on the grounds of Flackshore he was only several hours away from becoming the proud owner of all that was before him, and he didn’t see the sense in waiting several hours when he was only thirty minutes from the towns entrance.
He slowly made his way towards the white picket fence that runs outside the boarder of the house, when he catches movement in the corner of his eye once more, this time the shadowy figure is moving in a window of a different house. For the first time since he set foot on the property, his mind begins to slowly repeat and overthink the words his grandfather had used in his will, and started to wonder about the fifty-six, and why it was so important.
It was at that point he felt his arm tingle with a ferociousness that he had never felt before, and to his horror, he looks down to see a shrouded figure clutching at his arm, trying to drag him away. He pulls his arm free and the thing screams at him, then disappears into the darkness as it runs away.
“What the fuck is going on?” he hisses beneath his breath.
“It’s called a whelp,” a voice says, and he turns to face his long dead grandfather.
“Yes, I am, and welcome Douglass, it is so good to finally meet you.”
“B-B-But you’re d-d-dead…”
He smiles, “Aren’t we all?”
“W-W-What? I’m not dead! I-I-I-I’m alive!” Douglass yells, thumping his chest. “M-M-My grandfather’s dead, and whatever you are, your just my imagination playing tricks on me. P-P-Plus it’s dark, and that fucking dog or whatever it was, spooked me the fuck out!”
Gregor’s smile fades, and his eyes grow dark, “Sadly dear child, news of you being alive is greatly exaggerated! For there is only one way in to Flackshore, and by coming along that path, it leaves you no way out.”
Follow the below link to purchase 2020 Book Three to read all 20 five minute short stories.
Before you lies a piece of a puzzle far grander than you could ever know or imagine. For scrawled in blood upon the pages hidden within the above tome is stories twisted twenty in all, soaked in the embers of my insanity. Five minutes to glimpse inside the eyes of someone new, five minutes to answer, five minutes to sin, five minutes to do almost anything. A god, a demon, a harlot, a whore. A fascist, a killer, a sinner, a door. Death and division, humanity askew. A belfry of bats, a sea of black cats, so many moments out there to see, so many things you could see with me. So take a seat beside me and call it voodoo, because now you ride with me too…
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2 thoughts on “5 Minute Horror Story – A Town To Inherit – The Second Short Story From 2020 Book Three”
Sweet mother of all that is deliciously dark and mesmerizingly scary!!! 2020 Book Three is already dowloaded on my kindle, all juiced and powered up for an evening of awe!
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I am humbled 🙏