Many thanks.
Yes, I really do need to either add a bit more or change than ending.
Horror / The Fairground
A fairground!
For eighteen years I had fed and clothed my daughter. At first I fed her body from my own breast, latterly I had fed her mind and her soul. I washed for her, cooked for her, sent her to the best schools. I shopped with her, making sure that she learned the value of money from an early age. We had so often talked late into the night, discussing the world, people, talking of God and of life and of death. Of death, we had talked a lot in the last year.
So, on the eve of her birthday, when I asked her how she would like to celebrate, she stunned me.
“Let’s go to the fair”
I looked at her in horror, “The fair. You know how I despise that stupidity. People paying to watch their dreams die.”
She took on her long suffering look, the one she always adopted when I started, in her words ‘explaining things to her’. “Oh mum…”
I thought she knew better, was better than this, “Don’t Oh mum me. Just what do you want to do there? Pay good money to throw some balls and win nothing? Or, have some dime store toy shoved into your hand after wasting all your dollars?”
She shook her head, “No mum, I want to go on the rides, have fun!”
I blamed the school, they had lowered their standards, allowed just anyone in as long as their parents could pay the fees. “What, sit in a tiny cart and be thrown around until you are sick?”
I was going to continue, but the look on her face melted my heart. She was so crestfallen. Just as her father had looked the first time he asked me to marry him and I had said “No.”
Like him, she had that jet black hair, and those pale blue eyes that would win many a man or, in his case , many a woman’s heart.
Her thin aquiline features, her sweet red lips, these also were a mirror of that man, the man who stole my heart.
For a moment the pain returned, the remembrance of that letter, from the military. That notice of his dying in action. I quickly stopped the tears before they began. No, I was not going to recall his funeral, nor the year after where I struggled to keep our home and nurture our daughter.
And, just as I had finally allowed that look of his to change my mind, I repeated the words I had said the third time he asked me to marry him. “Oh, alright then.”
And just like his, her face suddenly lit up the world.
“Oh thank you mum, thank you!”
She rode the rides, and to my surprise was not sick.
She chucked the hoops, threw the balls, fired the cork loaded guns, and each time she grasped her prize with joy.
A stuffed rabbit, a jar of sweets, and even a box of magic tricks.
We met none of her friends there, she told me they all thought it was too childish.
So! It was not them. Maybe it was her genes, he would have found all this great fun.
We walked past a tent, the sign announcing Madam someone or other, I can’t recall the gypsies name. Mary saw my face and decided not to push her luck, she knew just how strongly I felt about all that psychic nonsense. “If they can read the future, what are they doing in some drafty tent with some two bit fair!”
Finally she had had enough excitement and allowed me to turn her towards the exit, a gap between the various trucks and cars manned by two rough looking adolescents. They leered at her, at us both actually, but more at her youthful beauty. Then we were outside the compound working our way to the makeshift car park.
I didn’t see him approach us, he was just suddenly standing in our way. “I have to read your future.”
I looked at him, surprisingly I was not really that afraid. He was tall, thin, with short cut hair. It was black flecked with silver. His skin was sallow, but looked like it once was very tanned. The lower half of his face was almost black from his shaved beard. He was clean shaven, so I think it’s called a five o’clock shadow.
He didn’t seem to have a weapon, but these days muggers just had to ask. We all knew the stories of people dying trying to save a few dollars.
I reached for my bag, pushing Mary behind me.
He smiled, though there was no sign of merriment in his deep dark eyes. “No, I don’t want your money. I have to tell you your future”
What was he saying, who told him I wanted some mumbo jumbo? “What? Oh, don’t bother, just let us pass”. Obviously he had mistaken us for someone else.
The smile faded, “I make no mistake, I play no games with you. I must read your future. Come”
He took me by the arm, neither gently nor too rough. I didn’t believe in this fortune telling garbage, but for some reason I let him lead me back inside the compound. Mary tagged on behind, “Mum. What are you doing? Why are you letting him take us back?”
For some reason I could not resist him and I had no reply for her.
Between the small yellow ducks floating in a tub of water and the candy floss stand, another tent had appeared. We had been this way earlier and I swear it was not there before.
He released my arm, pulled the cloth curtain aside and stepped inside. Now was my chance, we could run, get away from him and whatever madness this was. Instead, I meekly followed after him.
Inside, there was a small collapsible table and several plastic chairs, otherwise the tent was bare. I moved towards a chair, but he held up his hand. “No, don’t bother. This will be quick.”
I’d never been to a fortune teller in real life, but in the films and tv shows, these people always smiled, at least at first. This man looked so sad, or more, so resigned. I asked, “Don’t I have to cross your palms with silver?”
Mary had entered behind me, she moved to my side and clung to me.
He continued, “I have no more need for money. Tomorrow, I will die”
Why did he tell me this, this was not my future? Why did he think I needed to know this? “So?”
Mary clutched at me tighter.
The man moved towards us again, “Because I will then come to you, and you must listen to what I will say”
His eyes bore into me, making me inwardly shrink away. However, my body had set rigid and I did not move. It was Mary that spoke, “Why are you saying this, why are you trying to scare us?”
“I am not trying to scare you, I am telling your mother what she must do.”
He turned back to me, and his stare once more bore into me, holding me like a rabbit in car headlights. “You have two possible futures. I am hoping to help you select the right one. Choose the other, and you will die.”
Mary seemed less spellbound than I, she almost snarled at him, “And this is what you dragged us back here to say? You could have said all that outside and let us go home”
He smiled, with no trace of amusement in his face, “Yes, and I would have been talking to your backs as you walked away. Your mother had to hear what I have to say, and she must do as I have told her. I have played my part, now the choice is hers.”, and with that, he shoved us outside.
I have no idea how we found the car, how I drove home. That whole afternoon and evening are virtually blank. By the next morning, I had managed to dismiss it all as some foolishness. He had mesmerized us, driven on by who knows what, but it was over. We could forget that rubbish.
My day passed as normal, Mary went to school and returned late in the afternoon, I busied myself around the house. When she returned, we followed our usual pattern, her working on her homework, me cleaning and tidying before preparing the evening meal. None of that matters. It was later, as we watched TV, the news, that is the important thing that happened that day. I rarely allowed the set to be turned on, we only had it for the news and the occasional educational program or the documentaries.
Yet, for some reason, I had a feeling that today there was something in the news I should hear. As the screen came to life, a newsreader was presenting a news flash about some bizarre local accident. I grinned, everything had to be bizarre, or horrifying or cute on the news. They paid people to select those items and filter out all the rest.
I was about to go out to the kitchen and make a cup of tea when a photograph flashed on the screen. One of the carriages of the helter-skelter had broken free, shooting through the air, yet by some miracle it had landed safely and merely slid across the ground. All would have been well, except that one man happened to be in the way and it had crashed into him, killing him instantly. The photo was old, possibly from a driving license. I blanched, it was the fortune teller. Mary and I looked at each other, but I was the only one to speak, “It’s just a coincidence. Forget it”, then I quickly turned off the set.
I made dinner, we ate in silence, and as neither of us felt like doing anything, we went to bed early.
I woke up in the early hours of the morning, a fragment of a dream still fresh in my mind. He had come into my bedroom, waking me, though somehow I knew it was only in the dream. He had spoken to me, “Now I give you this. A time will come soon when you need it. Do not be afraid to do what must be done. If he does not die, they will kill you.”
He had grabbed my arm and I woke up.
I switched on the bedroom lamp and looked at my arm. Where he had grabbed it, there was a small blue spot. It looked for all the world like a small embedded lapis-lazuli stone, a gem I had always admired. I rushed to the bathroom in a panic, feeling sure that this was gem I did not want, I had to remove. Switching on the tap, I grabbed the nail brush and started scrubbing at the mark until my arm was red raw, yet I failed to remove it.
I couldn’t sleep all that night, so I spent the rest of it sitting in the kitchen. Every once in a while I would look at my arm, grateful that gradually the color was fading. For some reason, my thoughts slowly left the dream and that man. Slowly they began drifting back to my marriage.
Dan, my husband, had been a wonderful man, so different in nature from me. Frivolous, spendthrift, always ready to laugh rather than worry. God only knows why he enlisted, I suppose he just wanted to go with his two best friends. When he was sent to Afghanistan, he merely laughed again when I said I was afraid he would be killed there. “I’m going to help them, why would they kill me?”
Yet that letter did arrive. Just over a year ago.
I looked up and noticed that the sun had risen, the gentle morning glow shining through the kitchen window.
By the time Mary came down for her breakfast, the blue mark had gone. Had it all still been part of the dream? I didn’t tell her about it. She had been very unsettled by the fairground incident, and by the news flash showing his face. I didn’t see any reason to worry her more. It was just a moment, one of those strange occurrences in life, a dream that seemed so real. Some madman had waylaid us, exorcising whatever demons were driving him, I had dreamed about him, but it was over and now we were free of him. All a coincidence, some trick of fate, nothing to put any store in. The dream was just my subconscious playing with it all.
Mary left for school again that morning, and once more I found odd jobs around the house to fill my time. The doorbell rang at 3.00 p.m.
I walked into the hall and opened the door, and standing there was Dave, one of Dan’s friends, one that had gone to Afghanistan with him.
He smiled, an almost embarrassed, apologetic smile, “Can I come in?”
I smiled back, mine more genuine as I was glad to see him, even though he stirred those unhappy memories. After his stint in Afghanistan, he had been invalided out and, for several months, he didn’t actually live at home. We were told that he was undergoing some kind of treatment, at some special clinic. Then, suddenly, he appeared back home. After that he had started up a small business dealing in gem stones. We occasionally met in the street, but he never really talked to me, even seemed to be avoiding me. Perhaps it was part of his illness, or some reaction to Dan dying. I had always liked him before, so I hoped his coming now was a sign that he had finally come to terms with it all and wanted to renew our friendship. “Sure, come in Dave, I’m so glad to see you”.
He did not return my enthusiasm, “Jeanne, I’ve been struggling with something. Part of me thinks it’s important to tell you, part of me thinks there is no need.”
I walked him into our living room and sat him down, “Is that why you have been avoiding me all this time?”
He nodded, then indicated I should also sit down.
We sat their facing each other and for a moment he just sat silently staring into space, then finally he seemed to come to some decision.
“We were stupid. We thought we had it made, that we could get away with it.”
What was all this, what was he on about? “You’re confusing me Dave, and worrying me. What are you talking about?”
I suddenly noticed how aged he looked. Far more so that could be accounted for by the year that had passed since he had come back from Afghanistan.
He was talking again, “What do you know about Afghanistan?”
I wondered why he was now wanting to talk about that place. Was it the war? They didn’t call it a war, but when my husband is killed in fighting, I call it a war! “What do you mean?”
He glared at me, his voice almost becoming aggressive, “Just what I said, what do you know about the place?”
I thought about it, what I had read, what I had seen on the news. “A fairly primitive country, poor, a lot of religious squabbling. A mixture of desert and mountains.”
He nodded, satisfied that I had answered, “Do you know why we can’t clean out the terrorists, get Bin Laden?”
What was this all about? I snatched at something I had heard on the news, “They live in the mountains, hide in the caves?”
Again he stared into space for w ahile, then turned back to me, “Yes, the caves. Afghanistan was once, a long time ago, a crossroad. It held importance for trade and travel between Asia and Europe. On many occasions in history it was a very wealthy place. Alexander the Great conquered it and lived there for a while. But it’s history goes much further back. One of the oldest discovered human farm settlements were uncovered there.”
Why was he trying to give me a history lesson, I had no interest in any of this. It was just the place where Dan died.
Dave went on talking, “Jeanne, we had to go into some of those caves. We found something.”
We? Did he mean the army, or he and Dan?
He was shaking his head, as though arguing with himself. “We had been following a lead, that some terrorists might be hiding out there, just a small cell. We did a routine search and found no one. That doesn’t matter now. We found something.”
He’d already said that, just what had they found?
“Dan and I found a smaller cave. We went in alone, the others staying on watch outside. At the back of the cave, we found something like a tunnel , it seemed to lead back into a larger cave. We crawled through, but the bigger one was also empty – just a dead end. We were about to turn around, go back, when I saw something on the ground. Some animal had been in there, digging. Something reflected my torch light. It was very small, and it shone blue. I went over and dug it out with my fingers. It was a small gemstone. I’d seen them on sale in the markets sometimes, it was a Lapis-lazuli. “
Suddenly I felt a chill run down my spine.
He did not notice and continued talking, “We started digging around but didn’t find any more. Then Dan started looking at the cave walls. He found some markings. I had studied Greek at college, don’t ask me why. Those marking were Greek writing. I couldn’t make it all out, but I did see references to Alexander. I checked the cave wall again, it was not a natural wall, it had been built.
We quickly put two and two together. There had always been tales that Alexander had stored some treasure in Afghanistan. We jumped to the conclusion that we just might have found it. Anyway, we told the others we needed to uncover something and went back to camp and got some explosives, we had been using them sometimes to seal the caves. We took them back into the cave and blew that wall.”
He stood up and walked around the room. “We thought we had struck gold, and in a way we had. It wasn’t a treasure store, not a man made one. It was another cave, and the walls were almost pure Laps-lazuli. People had been there and it looked like they had left suddenly, a long time ago. There were half rotten sacks on the floor, all full of the gems, all roughly chipped from the walls.”
I should have felt excited, I should have wondered why he had kept this a secret from me. I should even have been angry that, if they had found this wealth, why had he left me to struggle alone since Dan died.
Instead, I just felt frozen with fear.
He didn’t look back at me, face me, instead he just stared out the window as he continued, “The blast had not done much damage, but that didn’t matter. The other’s in the squad came running in after the blast, but we didn’t care. There was enough wealth in that cave to make all of us extremely rich, if we could think of a way to get it out and back home. A way to keep it secret from the military.”
I thought of a film I had seen recently, with George Clooney in it, where they had discovered Gold bars in Iraq, or was it Iran? It didn’t matter. Dave was going to tell me something soon, something that would explain why I was so petrified, I just knew it.
And he did.
“We talked and we planned all night, the whole squad. We tried out so many ideas. Some were just stupid, some impractical and some just sheer madness.”
He suddenly hugged himself, wrapping his arms around his body. “They hit us just after sunset. Not that many of them, and they just had swords, knives, no guns. If we had not been so bloody busy planning we’d have kept a watch, it wouldn’t have been much of a problem. As it was, they got a lot of us before we even knew what was happening. We finally fought back and it didn’t take long to kill them. We killed a few of our own in the panic. Probably as many as they killed.”
Finally he turned around and faced me, “They were just kids you know. Maybe as young as ten. But they fought like demons. Like bloody screaming banshees.”
He finally sat down again. “We still weren’t thinking straight. We’d hardly finished cleaning up, burying their dead, bagging our guys, treating our wounded. Then another bunch hit us again. We still hadn’t set up a watch.”
He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “They kept coming all day, always kids, always with just swords and knives. We started looking out for them, got a lot before they even came close. Sometimes, they managed to still creep up, God knows how. We didn’t have time to bury them, not even time to move them. We were surrounded by carnage. They were just bloody kids!”
He looked up at me, “It finally stopped late afternoon. Everywhere I looked I saw children’s faces. All screwed up, in pain, agony, madness. We kept some guys on lookout and started burying them. Just one big hole after another, lots of them in each hole.”
I was feeling sick, I tried not to picture what he was telling me. I wanted to tell him to shut up, to just go. But part of me wanted to know what was coming next, needed to know. It was going to be important.
He looked at me, his face now ashen, “Jeanne. They weren’t Afghan children. And there was so many of them, they couldn’t have been living there, we’d have known about them. And they were all children, not one above twelve, thirteen.”
Again he stood up, “We decided to get out of there, then, right away. Most of us did. One or two wanted to stay, guard the cave, maybe try to move some of the stuff from it. We told them they’d be on their own. We’d had enough, we weren’t going to kill anymore kids. We left, most of us, those that wanted to, stayed. We never knew what happened to them. They are still listed as missing in action.”
He still hadn’t told me what this had to do with me, or with Dan’s death. I needed to know, he had to finish his story. Then I would send him away. I knew that I could never look at him again. I would be haunted by the images of him and those children. Always I had thought, ‘ I would always’.
Dave was at the window again, staring out. “We got back to base. We made up some tale about hitting a nest of terrorists. We said we’d cleaned them out, but left the other’s there to scout around. They talked of sending some choppers in, I think they did, but they never found the rest of the squad. There was a fuss, some talk of a hearing, we were all told it was a stupid thing to do. A few days passed and we started to recover our nerve, started to talk about the treasure again. Dan said ‘Fuck it, it wasn’t worth it’. Most of us disagreed. We went to a bar one night, four or five of us. Stayed all night drinking. Stayed until the early hours. Some local guys came in, saw us, started swearing at us. There was a fight, Dan was stabbed.
That was how he died Jeanne, in a stupid fight. Like often happened, the Military declared that he was killed in action.“
My husband, the war hero, killed in a bar brawl? I knew there was more. I would deal with how he died, later. Right now, I had to know what Dave had still not told me.
Once more he turned away from the window. It was getting late, Mary would be home soon.
“I went back , you know. Much later. It had all gone. All signs of our camp, the graves, even the bloody cave. I knew where it had been, I looked in the right place, but it was just rock. No sign. It didn’t matter anyway. I didn’t need the treasure. Not anymore.”
I was getting angry, “Dave, just say what you came here to tell me!”
Dave shrugged, “ Alright. Those children we killed, slaughtered. They weren’t children. They were some kind of demon.”
I blinked. Demons. Was this all just a waste of my time, had he gone mad somehow? “Demons. Demons that used swords and could be shot by guns? Demons that look like children and wander around the desert. Have you gone insane?”
Dave laughed. “They are not from this time, this world. Where they came from, there was no such thing as guns. We surprised them. We were the first that had found that cave for a very long time.”
Something about his look, and his laugh, dispelled some of my doubt, “And how do you know all this?”
He smiled, a sickly, yet almost arrogant smile, “I met them again.”
How had I suspected that he would say that, “When?”
He walked towards me, “I’ll get to that. Something else happened first”
I backed away from him, “You’re scaring me again Dave.”
He stopped where he was, “I’m sorry. You see, they all died. The rest of the squad, one by one. Some by car bombs, some by land mines, some by more bar brawls. Always one at a time, never together, but they all died.”
I spoke calmly, hoping to restore some form of sanity to this conversation, “It was a dangerous place Dave”.
Dave nodded, “Yeah. Sure. That was what I told myself. With Dan gone – sorry Jeanne – I had no one to talk to then, especially after all the others went as well. I kept finding myself thinking about that cave. Not the gems. No, I kept wondering why the ancient Greeks, Alexander or someone around his time, why they had walled it up. Why they had just suddenly left all the sacks and locked them away.”
It was obvious to me, “They had taken all they needed Dave. If it was Alexander, he probably had to move on to another of his battles. They just blocked it up to keep it safe, safe for another time.”
Dave shook his head, but then seemed to agree with me, “Yeah, that’s what I thought at first, but I was wrong. They didn’t wall people out, they walled something in.”
I used to read horror stories when I was a child, I knew how this one went. “So, you think you released whatever it was and it then proceeded to kill you all. The demons couldn’t do it with swords, so they used some kind of magic. So, why didn’t they kill you?”
Now he laughed, an insane type of laugh. He stared at me, but his eyes now seemed hollow, empty. “No, they didn’t kill us for opening the cave, not after that first attack in the mountains. They had learned something. They killed the others because they refused to do what was demanded of them. They came to each of us in turn, in our dreams. And they told us what we had to do. The others refused, one by one, and the others died, one by one. I told you I saw them again Jeanne. I saw them in my dreams. I still do sometimes, They come to me when they need to give me more instructions.”
Instructions. “So, you lived because you agreed to do as they asked?”
He nodded again, “Yes. I wanted to live.”
I knew I would not like the answer, but I had to ask again, “So, why are you telling me all this?”
Yet again, he walked over to the window. “I’ll come to that Jeanne, I did not go to hospital when I returned. That was just a lie, to hide what I was really doing.”
“And that was?”
“First, I returned to Afghanistan. They helped me take as many stones as I wanted. Then, when I came back, I had to start buying weapons, shipping them over there. The gem business was just a cover Jeanne. I have been shipping weapons for them. They realised that they needed more than just swords these days.”
Dave had become an arms dealer? Supplying weapons to kill our men?
I looked at him with hate and disgust, “So, you made up all this garbage, all this superstitious shit, just to justify becoming an arms dealer? Why, why come to me with all this?”
He turned back to face me again, “Jeanne, this is all true, I am not lying. There is just one more thing I need to tell you. There are people over there, people that know all about this. That cave is not the only one. More still appear from time to time. These people, these Afghans, they have ways of fighting back, they still know how to wall these demons up. The power, the demons are attracted by it, it pulls them here from wherever they really belong. But people, perhaps from Alexander’s time, maybe even before that, they learned how to harness the power, use it against the demons. Most forgot, but some still remain in Afghanistan, they still keep watch.”
I felt even more disgust at him, “So, why didn’t you go to them, help them?”
Dave smiled ruefully, “I found out too late. As did you.”
Now he was going to tell me why he really came here, and I knew that I would not like it “What do you mean?”
He smiled, genuinely this time, a smile that announced he knew I was beginning to understand “ The man in the fairground Jeanne, he was one that fights the demons. They got him, but not before he contacted you.”
Again, I felt thrown, that was not what I expected him to say, this was still not making any sense, “And why did they want to contact me. What has this to do with me.”
He was standing fully facing me now, standing straight and tall for the first time since he had arrived, “Jeanne, he wanted you to kill me. They knew you were the only one that might be able to get near me. They knew my wife wouldn’t have the strength of will.”
Dave suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. “ I can’t let you do that Jeanne, not now. I still want to live. I was just going to kill you, but I thought it only fair to let you know why I am doing this. I always liked you Jeanne.”
And with that, he pulled the trigger.
I just stood and stared at him, waiting for the pain, waiting to die. But I didn’t.
Instead, words suddenly sprang into my mind. ‘Do not be afraid to do what must be done. If he does not die, they will kill you”
I reached inside my dress and pulled out a knife. How the hell had that got there, I had no memory of taking a knife from the kitchen.
Dave kept shooting at me as I approached him, he didn’t stop until the knife slashed across his throat. As I continued slashing, I noticed my arm. The blue spot, the Lapis-Lazuli had re-appeared, was shining brightly. The light seemed to surround me, like some protective shield.
I found myself shouting as I continued slashing at him, “For you Dan, for you”
Then Mary came in and just screamed.
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Curtastrophe reviewed Version 1 -
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I thought the story was okay. However, I can see that you could develop this into something much bigger. It was rife with punctuation errors but I’ve just listed here a few nitpicks.
“At first I fed her body from my own breast, latterly…” ‘later’ would be a better word here.
”...recall the gypsies name…” gypsy’s
“like a rabbit in car headlights.” This is borderline cliche. Avoid cliche’s “like the plague!” :)
I think as it is, the story kind of drags. This is due in part to about 50% of it is backstory. I don’t know how you can change this, unless you introduced a character before Dan’s friend comes in. The character and the protagonist could talk about Dan and that way it wouldn’t be so much exposition loaded into the story. But overall, I thought it was decent. Hope this helps.
-Curt
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Ness reviewed Version 1 -
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I enjoyed this story a lot, I was always on the edge of my seat, wanting to know what happened next so in that way it was a great success. As for spelling and grammer i didn’t notice anything major. The only think i didn’t like was the conclusion. I think it would be better if you deleted “Then Mary came in and just screamed.” and left it Jeanne, shouting “For you Dan.”
Otherwise well done, hope to read more horro stories soon.
BigMamaMags reviewed Version 1 -
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Are you kidding me? I love good horror stories, and this is not just good, this is one of the best, original horror stories I’ve read in a long time. I love the build up. Slow and steady then the fortune teller came into it. Strange, but not too unexpected considering the fair. The women’s reaction to his comments was curious to me, but some people have that inner voice that directs what they do, regardless what common sense tells them. Dan’s friend and the story. Truly a creative masterpiece. This was something to my knowledge (and believe me when I say I’ve read more Horror that Stephen King can write)a twist that have never come across before. The woman’s reaction to him and discovering the knife then killing him was also genius. I really wasn’t to crazy about Mary coming in and screaming, but otherwise, Bravo!
hellbunny reviewed Version 1 -
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“Your mother had to hear what I have to say, and she must do as I have told her.”- He hadn’t given her any instructions at this point. He’s supposed to give them to her later, so the tense needs to change to future.
You were a little too wordy with the protagonist explaining away the dream. I know people do this when they are trying to convince themselves, but it wouldn’t have been redundant if you had quit after saying, “we are free of him.”
You did an excellent job weaving your words to pull the readers in. I was spellbound at every page. The ending, however, seemed clipped, but I’m not sure what advice I can give to smooth it out better.
kadiya reviewed Version 1 -
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Aside from the couple of spelling errors which I am sure you will find, this is a pretty good piece. I liked it. It kept me guessing, the characters flowed well, dialogue expressive and understandable. It sounded English to me rather than American. The theme was interesting in general. From Fairground to Afghanistan kept the interest piqued. Mystery as well as horror although I didn’t think it was too heavy on the horror, more slight shock. If you’ve seen Texas Chain Saw Massacre, or saw 1, saw2, saw3, then you know what I mean. :-)
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