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Not Quite Normal: Abridged Edition
Not Quite Normal: Abridged Edition
Not Quite Normal: Abridged Edition
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Not Quite Normal: Abridged Edition

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About this ebook

Not Quite Normal is a collection of nineteen short supernatural tales from Shane Rynhart. Included in this edition:

The Helper (Part 1)
Red
Not Quite Normal
Tomahawk
Endeavour
The Helper (Part 2)
Genocide by P45
The River
St. Martin’s Eve
The Helper (Part 3)

Appendices:

Acknowledgements
About the Author
Contact
End Note (including a discount code for the full version of Not Quite Normal)

The full version of Not Quite Normal, containing 19 stories in all, as well as bonus content, is also available to buy. The Abridged Edition contains a 50% discount code.

A free edition, containing nine short stories (including some NOT available in the Abridged Edition) is also available.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherShane Rynhart
Release dateAug 1, 2012
ISBN9781476183466
Not Quite Normal: Abridged Edition
Author

Shane Rynhart

Hi.I'm Shane. I'm currently 23 and living in the town of Bournemouth in the UK. I've lived here all my life. I've written things for ages, but since I'm currently unemployed (but looking to go self-employed for various projects - get in touch if you think I might be able to do something for you, incidentally!) I thought I'd give this self-publishing thing a shot.As I write this, I'm preparing to launch Not Quite Normal, a short story anthology. Over the next few weeks (it's currently the end of January 2012 in case I never update this!), I'll be releasing a few free stories from it. You can find out more information about the project on my blog, the link to which should be below this bio.Thanks for checking this out. Please feel free to get in touch if you have any comments or just want to chat. I'm pretty easy to find online, since I'm the only person who has ever had my name in human history. Which is pretty neat!Take care, and happy reading!Shane

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    Book preview

    Not Quite Normal - Shane Rynhart

    Not Quite Normal: Abridged

    Published by Shane Rynhart at Smashwords

    Copyright Shane Rynhart 2012

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Cover image by Flickr user Tim ‘atoach’ Green http://www.flickr.com/photos/atoach/1497418451/

    Image used under a Creative Commons Attribution license http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

    * * * * *

    Dedication:

    This anthology is for you, the reader, whoever you may be. You are fantastic, even if you’re not quite normal.

    * * * * *

    A quick note on navigation - click the title of the story you would like to read to be taken straight to it. When you’re done, click ‘The End’ (or ‘End of Part…) or ‘Return to Contents’ to, well, return to this table of contents.

    Contents

    Introduction

    Stories:

    The Helper (Part 1)

    Red

    Not Quite Normal

    Tomahawk

    Endeavour

    The Helper (Part 2)

    Genocide by P45

    The River

    St. Martin’s Eve

    The Helper (Part 3)

    Appendices:

    Acknowledgements

    About the Author

    Contact

    End Note

    Introduction

    Hello. Welcome to Not Quite Normal: Abridged Edition. I’m Shane Rynhart and I’ll be your author today.

    This eBook is one of three versions of my debut short story anthology, called, funnily enough, Not Quite Normal. It contains ten of my favourite stories from the collection at a permanently low price of 99 US cents. Also available are the Free Edition, which contains nine stories for no charge, and the full edition, priced at $1.99 and containing all nineteen NQN stories plus a wealth of bonus content.

    Cliché alert: I hope you enjoy reading these tales as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them. Feel free to throw up a little in your mouth now, if you wish. If you like what you’ve read, and fancy checking out the full version, you can find a discount code in the End Note section, which will allow you to get the full version for half price from my distributor, Smashwords. Don’t say I never do anything nice for you.

    Thank you from the bottom of my heart for downloading this eBook. I can’t accurately put into words how much it means to me.

    At the ‘back’, I’ve included a short ‘Contact’ section. If you’ve enjoyed the stories in Not Quite Normal, or even if you haven’t and want to scream abuse at me until you get your money back, I would genuinely love to hear from you. I’m not an attention seeker by any means, the opposite if anything, but I care about these stories as if they were my own children, and any feedback can only be a good thing.

    Finally, if you happen to notice any errors - whether that be something like spelling or something more complex like a formatting issue that’s preventing you from reading something - do get in touch. I’ll attempt a repair and upload a new version.

    I’ll shut up now, because you’ve got some reading to do. But thanks again.

    --Shane Rynhart

    * * * * *

    The Helper: Part 1 - Mercy

    There are three types of human in this world.

    The first type believes that the supernatural exists. That there is a God. That Angels have walked this planet. Perhaps they believe in ghosts, or aliens, or the monster under the bed. These men and women have open minds. But they are fools.

    The second type believes that this is all there is. That there can be no afterlife, and the only monsters in this world are the bankers and politicians that control us like laboratory mice. These men and women have narrow minds. And they are fools.

    And then there is the third type. These people have a combination of beliefs. That there is a God, but there is no afterlife. That there are monsters, but that they don’t all look like ‘Sir’ Fred. That there is more to the world than meets the eye, but mortals are not privy. These men and women are sensible in their views. And that is what makes them so frightening.

    Where do I fit into this system? I do not. I have been around far too long to be even considered human any more. But my captors, well, they’re most certainly of the third category. They understand that beings like myself exist, and they seek to eradicate us for reasons only they know. I must have missed that memo. Regardless, I fear that my life is soon to be snuffed. If this is to be a memorandum, I want my side heard. I shall get no fair trial, but this is my defence nonetheless.

    * * * * *

    I suppose I should begin by explaining my predicament. Not one week ago, I found myself in a cutesy little village in southern England. It is almost completely surrounded by a river, which meanders to the south and traps it on a sort-of peninsula. To the north is farmland, owned by the same bloodline for a millennium or more. The village looks much different now than it did back then. Bricks and mortar, not simple stone and mud. Tarmac and cobbles, not dirt and grass.

    I crossed one of the three bridges, and made my way to the east bank. It was close to midnight, and the stars seemed to float and rock on the water like tiny glittering lily pads. There was a large oak tree on the bank, just there always has been. Oh my, it had grown since the last time I laid eyes on it. I was almost proud of it, like an uncle who hadn’t seen his nephew for some time. I patted it gently. I knelt down at its base and laid a single flower. For the life of me, I cannot remember what kind.

    Then I got to my business. I headed towards the centre of the village. I passed two pubs: The Golden Anchor and The Red Lion. The Anchor looked just as grotty as it did way back when. The Lion was a much more recent development. There were many more houses and shops than I remembered, too, and they were far larger. All of them had burglar alarms.

    The place was deathly silent. I hesitate to use the phrase ‘ghost town’.

    As I walked down the high street - a collection of branded stores rather than the private butcher, baker, candlestick maker that used to occupy the premises - a security light came on and blinded me. Rather than bright white, however, it had a tint of red, like a rosé wine. It made me come over a little woozy, so I stepped beyond its bounds as quickly as I could. It was a most unpleasant diversion, and completely eradicated the view of the stars I had been admiring. I had a few spots in my vision, but they wore off as I walked.

    The dizziness had gone by the time I reached the farm. The plot of land it sat on was huge. It used to just be

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