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Xmas Evil

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As dusk approached on that cold Xmas Eve in our quiet little neighbourhood, we all settled down for the yearly festivities. Lights and decorations of all shapes sizes and colours adorned the picturesque houses. Little were we prepared for the madness that was to unfold over the next few hours. Not all of us believed before and many still couldn't after but it was horrifically real. A lone killer dressed in red was to visit us. This year, as with others, gifts were promised but all we received was death.  It began at midnight on Christmas Eve, when police were called to a domestic incident. Three people had been slaughtered mercilessly, their innards strewn around their home in a nightmare of crimson blood and internal organs. More reports followed, each more brutal than the last. The killer was in a blood lust, a psychotic frenzy of murder. But worse was to come.  By now most of us were gathered just outside our homes, the fear palpable. Mid conversation we were stunned into silenc

Death Awaits

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"Are you sure it's him?". The younger man's brow furrowed but his nodding head was grave. "I'm sure Father", he replied. "Medok is here". Father Joseph McGregor sighed as he regarded Eyre Square in Galway. He knew the time would come, but had hoped it wouldn't be here. He wasn't sure he was ready. "So, the usual fee?", Brendan Kelly, his informant asked. "Yes, always the same", the priest said and sat back as the ginger haired man smiled and headed back to the same train station he had come from. It was a crisp but reasonably warm early spring day in Ireland, but it gave the priest little comfort. For thirty years he'd hunted and slain vampires. He'd been hunted too and tonight would see and end. Father McGregor rose slowly and made his way back to his church. The private number rang three times before being answered. That was normal, but nonetheless Father McGregor wasn't in the mood to wait. "Yes?&

Silently

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"Silently". Now and then a thought occurs. A forgotten memory of someone you knew. More a glimmer perhaps, fleeting and brief. "Silently". Once they were friends, partners, family. Their lives echoed yours, which makes you consider. For those who were will never again. "Silently". There was a wrapping around them, slowly yet menacingly. An insidious cloak of velvet, erasing eternal. "Silently". But the call is remembered, no more or less. A tauntingly sung word, light yet cruel and vile knowledge. That it was the end of all, the sand had run out. "Silently". So if you should ever hear such a dire call. Over the wind perhaps, or in the hubub of life. It is coming for you, there is no escape! "Silently". The word is its method, that's how it creeps up. And that chills the marrow when finally it ends you. For after you hear it, all becomes void. "Silently".

Stan Lee Death

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View The Twisted Imaginings Facebook Post It is with great sadness that I report on the death of Stan Lee aged 95. Stan was a comic writer and co-creator of iconic characters, including Iron Man, The Fantastic Four, Spider-Man, Daredevil and X-Men. Stan revolutionised the comic book industry, making the characters complex and believable. He was also known for various cameos. RIP Stan Lee and Excelsior.

The Dinner Party

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As the car pulled to a stop Joe Harrington straightened his tie and breathed nervously. Joe was on the brink of a career defining moment if all went well. The concierge who met him was suitably attired for a Halloween event, while still pointedly being polite about it. Invitation approved, the entrance to Beech House was opened. Joe stopped just inside the stately home and marvelled at its Gothic interior. If he'd been able to, he would have sneaked a camera in. He was deliberating using his smart phone before an elderly gentleman approached. "Ah, Lord Huxley!", Joe beamed enigmatically. "Thank you for the invitation!". Lord Huxley regarded Joe keenly before proffering his hand. "Welcome to Beech House", his rich voice opined. "May I present Lady Huxley?". A petite yet very imposing woman smiled thinly at Joe. "Now, please do come to the dining room", Lord Huxley gestured. "It's almost time". Entering the dining room J

A Samhain Blessing

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Discuss your Halloween plans on Facebook! This is the night when the gateway between  our world and the spirit world is thinnest. Tonight is a night to call out those who came before. Tonight I honor my ancestors. Spirits of my fathers and mothers, I call to you, and welcome you to join me for this night. You watch over me always, protecting and guiding me, and tonight I thank you. Your blood runs in my veins,your spirit is in my heart, your memories are in my soul. With the gift of remembrance I remember all of you. You are dead but never forgotten, and you live on within me, and within those who are yet to come.

Satan Collects

As Matt loaded the van he wiped sweat from his forehead. He loved his job but the heavy lifting was back breaking. He turned once more to look at the warehouse. It looked even more barren in the pale of the moonlight. It was once a thriving industrial estate, but now it was as dead as the woman he had just slaughtered. They might find her, he sniggered as he turned to the van. There was a Jaguar. Not more than ten feet away! Matt barely had time to register confusion before hearing a polite cough behind him. Turning, Matt jumped back a step. "Oh, no!", the amiable old man smiled. "I'm not from the Met.", he chuckled. Matt instinctively reached inside his jacket before freezing. "That won't be necessary", the strange elderly gent said, a little less amusedly. "Allow me to explain.". In a flash he threw a hood over Matt's head. Matt groaned as his senses swam. He struggled to recount what had happened as he realized his hands and feet w