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    Thirteen: The Horror Collection
    Thirteen: The Horror Collection
    Thirteen: The Horror Collection
    Ebook121 pages1 hour

    Thirteen: The Horror Collection

    By Louise Lake

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    About this ebook

    Thirteen: The Horror Collection is a collection of thirteen young adult short horror stories, including zombies, vampires, werewolves and pot dolls.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLouise Lake
    Release dateAug 29, 2015
    ISBN9781310982637
    Thirteen: The Horror Collection
    Author

    Louise Lake

    Louise Lake is a UK author that writes in a variety of different genres including: horror, dystopian sci-fi, fantasy, young adult, historical romance and poetry. She has had a number of poems published into separate anthologies by United Press and Forward Poetry, and a few articles published into newspapers and magazines such as Take a Breaks Fate and Fortune and her local paper Wakefield Express. Louise has also worked as a writer for the Wakefield Literature Festival, where her story was brought to life by live theatrical performers. She is currently working on a number of books including: Poems For Kids, a sequel to her historical romance debut Arabella, and a number of young adult fantasy books, including a four part fantasy series titled The Three Kingdoms. Her favorite authors include: Stephen King, Darren Shan, R.L.Stein, Paulo Coelho, Rhonda Byrne, Jane Austen, Stephanie Meyer, Suzanne Collins, Casandra Clare, Veronica Roth, Nicholas Sparks, Bella Osbourne and Bella Forrest.

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      Book preview

      Thirteen - Louise Lake

      THIRTEEN: THE HORROR COLLECTION

      VOLUME ONE

      BY LOUISE LAKE

      COPYRIGHT 2015 LOUISE LAKE

      SMASHWORDS EDITION

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE: THE ANTIQUE DOLL

      CHAPTER TWO: DANCING WITH THE DEAD

      CHAPTER THREE: FLESH AND BLOOD

      CHAPTER FOUR: FRESH FLESH

      CHAPTER FIVE: THE MUSIC BOX

      CHAPTER SIX: THE PUPPET CLOWN

      CHAPTER SEVEN: THE AMULET

      CHAPTER EIGHT: THE CHALICE

      CHAPTER NINE: WORMHOLE TO HELL

      CHAPTER TEN: THE PACK

      CHAPTER ELEVEN: HALLOWEEN TOWN

      CHAPTER TWELVE: THE SIRENS SONG

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN: RAGE

      THE ANTIQUE DOLL

      Inside she waits silently

      One hundred years

      To be set free

      I always admired buying and selling at auctions. Buying kept me in my element, as I had recently lost my auction virginity, and I visited at least one auction a month. But none of the auctions were anything compared to the last one.

      I had never been the kind of girl to believe in ghost stories and curses and I’d never really liked pot dolls. Yet one day during an auction, I came across an intriguing pot doll.

      Her eyes looked full of sorrow as they drew me in, making me feel sad even though she was only a doll.

      Just before the auction started for the hypnotic doll, the seller had a story to tell relating to its history. All I could imagine was the seller rambling on about the technique of doll making or something close.

      The seller was an odd looking middle aged man. He was dressed entirely from head to toe in black with long, wispy, grey hair. He had no fashion sense to be seen. His eyes were filled with an anxious look and I could see beads of sweat beginning to form above his brow.

      The doll’s facial features were oddly realistic. I guessed she must have been made by a great artist. The doll’s hair was made up of perfectly formed blonde ringlets. Her skin was as pale as the first winter’s snow and her lips were vibrant red and full of pout. Her cheekbones were beautifully defined with iced pink flushes at either side and her eyes were wide and green.

      After a brief and boring introduction about the history of doll making as I assumed would happen, the man began to speak strangely about the doll, as if it was a person.

      ‘I will now tell you an interesting story about this doll, which I was told many years ago. Almost one hundred years ago there lived a great witch. The witch practiced magic of the blackest forms. She cursed many people during her years. She was feared by many and was later cast out by the people of Eldritch. The only ones that she trusted were her lover and daughter. The witch’s daughter was greatly admired by every man; she was called a goddess, overly beautiful on the outside. One evening on the day of her daughters sixteenth birthday the witch returned home to find her daughter in the arms of her lover. The witch’s daughter had been having an affair with her mother’s lover for one hundred days.’

      ‘The witch, devastated by her daughter’s betrayal, swore that she would punish her for exactly one hundred years, a year for each day she spent with her lover. It is said a terrible curse was cast trapping her daughter’s spirit inside this doll. A legend was told that on the dawn of the new moon after one hundred years, her spirit will rise from within the constraints of her lifeless shell to claim the body of another.’

      As the man headed towards the back of the room he eyed me on his way past. The way he looked at me gave me the creeps and I swear I saw a slight grin rising from his lips. He was a good story teller but there was no way the story could be true.

      I found the doll inspiring so I decided to place a bid.

      ‘Do I have an opening bid of ten pounds?’

      ‘Fifteen, do I have a bid for fifteen? Yes to the lady in the corner.’

      ‘Twenty, thirty, forty, forty five. Do I have a bid for forty five pounds for this incredible antique doll?’

      That was my call, I just couldn’t resist; forty five pounds seemed reasonable enough so I raised my hand.

      ‘Going once, going twice and sold to the girl in the front row.’

      After a while if I decided to sell her on, I bet I would get triple of what I paid.

      When I returned home that night my boyfriend, Brett, had made me a surprise meal and cracked open a fresh bottle of champagne.

      ‘Are we celebrating?’ I asked.

      ‘Hi there, Honey, I was made chief executive of the company today, so it looks like we are going to have far more money in our pockets,’ he said smiling.

      I jumped up in excitement throwing my arms around his neck before I kissed him.

      ‘I’m so proud of you. Look what I bought today,’ I said pulling out the antique doll.

      ‘Creepy,’ he laughed.

      We sat down to our meal and a flute of champagne, catching up on the day as we always had.

      The next night Brett had to go away on business for a few days as he was now chief executive and with the title came responsibility. I guessed that he wouldn’t be around as much, but we both enjoyed our own space every now and again.

      Before I went up to bed I placed the doll upright on the sofa and I decided to leave her there for the night, until I found a suitable place for her.

      The next morning I awoke to a strange clanging noise coming from my kitchen downstairs. I rushed down the stairs with my bedside vase in my hand, only to find that the waste bin had been tipped upside down and rummaged through. I almost tripped over a pile of tin cans, as I knelt down to pick the bin up from the floor. As my fingers neared the bin I saw the image of a face skip from one of the cans, and the vase fell from my fingers shattering all over the floor. I immediately looked around but there was nothing there. Standing up from the kitchen floor, I paced quickly into the living room. I walked towards the sofa to retrieve my antique doll, but she was nowhere in sight. Searching around the back of the sofa, I looked underneath, but there was still no sight of the doll. I started to look around the house: downstairs, upstairs and in every cupboard and place in sight. I completely tipped my home upside down but I still could not find the doll anywhere.

      After a while I gave up the search as a failed attempt and went back into the living room to sit down and rest for a while. To my surprise the doll was right there, sitting in the exact same position I had left her the night before.

      ‘That’s odd,’ I said to myself.

      I must have somehow missed her.

      Night soon came again and I decided it was time to call it a day. I went to bed leaving the doll still sitting on the sofa.

      I tossed and turned in my bed all night, having unusual dreams of being locked inside a box, a box that was the same size as me from every angle. It was a terrible nightmare as I had been claustrophobic since I was young.

      I awoke the following morning with sweat dripping from the top of my hair line and without a pillow under my head. As I looked around for my pillow on the floor I found a small blonde curl on the carpet. I knew that the hair wasn’t mine as I was a brunette. My first thought was of Brett having an affair, but it seemed unlikely as when he wasn’t at work he was with me.

      I decided it was time to clear my hazy head and wake up so I jumped into the shower. Whist the water ran down my body the glass door began to steam up and I felt as though someone was watching me. I closed my eyes telling myself to stop being so paranoid when the feeling came on stronger. When I opened my eyes I saw the doll through the corner of my eye bolting past the shower door. I blinked and looked again to find the image had vanished into the steam. I opened the shower door slowly but

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