Golden Hour (Final Part 8)
"They called him The Collector," Vincent commented. "You've not really referred to him." There was a rustle of papers as the old editor...
Golden Hour (Part 7)
I felt the needle tear a hole, piercing soft tissue as it punctured a vein in my neck. An immense weight held me down. I screamed, my...
Taking Sarah Home
The inhumanity of man surrounds me, like the stench of decay. Sallow faced, hollow cheeked, and with eyes that have seen too much, I...
Golden Hour (Part 6)
Brad and Joe investigate the van parked near the disused train tunnel.
Golden Hour (Part 5)
The cold hit me like a wave, crashing against my chest; the change in pressure popped my ears. On I stumbled, barely able to lift my feet...
Golden Hour (Part 4)
The dilapidated entrance had grown cancerous with age, riddled with uneven floorboards, dusted with fallen plaster and masonry. I...
Golden Hour (Part 3)
“You know something, Joe, what is it?” I chased after him, shouting out directions to where my car was parked. Joe rocked on his feet,...
Golden Hour (Part 2)
In part one we met Brad and Joe. Here continues their story. Blue light flashed against the window pane, moving from along the building...
Golden Hour (Part 1)
There was no way I could get decent pictures from outside the pub, and aware I was beginning to look out of place loitering on an empty...
No one at the Gates
Interesting fact of the day: you can skydive in a column of air, if the flow is a consistent 95 miles an hour. My fantastic wife took...
