Character Disclosure\plot Important!!

I also wanted to add; that although some of the characters in this story may be loosely based on actual people that I or others I know may have met, none of the names used relate to actual people. If any names ,or the characteristics of any of the characters generated in this book are the same, or have striking simularity to anyone you know, then be sure that this is officially unrelated - completely!! Also the plot is ulterly fictious! Now don't go getting all paranoid on me now!

Chapter 1,The Secret, part 2

The Secret, part 2.


Some twelve years earlier Johnny Foster & his daughter were in search of a runaway horse. They had hunted, without success, all the land for miles around, that surrounded Fosters Farm, except for the grounds of the old uninhabited house, which lay approximately one mile northwest, if you set off on foot, across the fields. The search had been long & it was now after 7pm & it was beginning to get dark. As the Land Rover turned into the long gravel driveway which lead to Abbots House the headlights caught the eyes of the stallion. Johnny suspected that “bloody kids” had broken the wooden fence at the back of the horse’s paddock & had driven Sun Dance out. It was the house, he was sure of it, that attracted so many damn kids out this way. Especially over the summer holidays. Sun Dance, an extremely promising one year old, that he’d been training for point-to-point racing, was grazing on the large overgrown front lawn. As they came closer they could see, in the poor light, that the horse was ok, but he looked a little tired & nearly as relieved as they were that he’d been found at last. Mandy, Johnny’s 18 year old daughter, was first to notice the light on in the otherwise dark & looming house. The property had been left for four years, or more, at this time, & technically speaking the owner could arrive back at anytime, although he thought this to be extremely unlikely, if it was true what they said. Jonny knew of the family & understood that John Miller, the youngest of the two sons, was still listed as missing, suspected dead. Everyone believed the crew of H.M.S SERPENT had perished. Much later he’d read in the News Of The World that debris, life jackets & shark bitten bodies had been washed up along the shores, as far south as Peru & to the north of San Diego. Even the Royal Navy had announced that the chances of survival were minimal & diminishing by the day. Although it was a complete mystery why the frigate had sunk in good weather. Since then, six years had passed & there’d been nothing. John Millers body had not been amongst the remains of the bodies found, that could be identified, with over 150 other sailors still unaccounted for. Therefore, the possibility of the house being lit by unfriendly, perhaps armed, burglars was much more likely. There had been a spate of such crimes in the nearby Highgreen & Ridgegate areas recently. The local rag had warned people to be on the look out & described the perpetrators as being of the dangerous variety. Not the kind of people that he’d choose to bump into at the best of times in such a remote spot, let alone when he was accompanied by Mandy. He explained to his inquisitive daughter that it wasn’t their job to investigate. No.. not on your life! They’d do the neighborly thing & report it to the police as soon as they got back home, ..just in case. Mandy tried not to look as if she was hiding something, but in truth she’d seen the light on the night before when she’d been shagging the stable hand in the back of his Ford Sierra. They had driven to the house as usual for a quickie, for he had told his young wife, who he had left at home, that he wouldn’t be long, he was just popping out for some petrol. When in fact, he’d preplanned to pick Mandy up just outside of town & pump her brains out. Their relationship was purely sexual, a secret & she felt excited at the mere thought of it. When they saw the light on they fled, deciding it was best to say nothing. For how could they explain, under the circumstances. So Jonny Foster & randy-Mandy quickly loaded Sun Dance into the horse box, which was hooked to the back of the Land Rover & drove off.

The newly promoted Sergeant James accompanied by PC Whitlow arrived at the address. They both knew of it’s past history & that, coupled with the possibility of there being armed robbers present, unnerved them somewhat, but neither would admit it. Luckily this time it turned out to be a false alarm. After entering the premises by breaking a back window pane, which was later repaired, the officers carried out a tentative, but nonetheless extensive search of the furnished building & found no one. Although there was evidence that someone had been there recently. They had found the kitchen light on & a freshly made, half eaten sandwich was lying on the dinning room table. By who exactly.. they were unsure of. There had been no evidence of forced entry, or for that matter a burglary. It was if the place had been visited by a ghost. Two weeks later James & Whitlow were not as fortunate, when they walked in on armed burglars at a farm house 18 miles to the west, just north of Highgreen, after a tip off. Their bodies were found floating in the river Bock, each with bullet wounds to the head. The Killers were never caught.

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Written by T.R.Vinnicombe (aka Dr. Peter Hodgkins) ©2009 all rights reserved & none of the contents of this site can be copied or used in any way without the written consent of the author. Published online by MicroHotStar 2009.

A Happy New Year to all!

Just wanted to wish everyone out there in cyber space a Happy New Year. I will post the next exert (Chapter 1 The Secret, part 2) very soon today. This will also get posted on www.stark.microhotstar.com as well.

Chapter 1 The Secret, part 1

Chapter 1,
The Secret
The house stood silent in its woodland location situated on the edge of the small town disturbed only by the sound of an approaching engine & the crackle of gravel under tyre as the car ground to a halt outside. The figures stepped out of the black Volvo & walked the short, crazy pathed, moss patched, path which lead to the front steps. After a short while they found the key, amongst the twenty or so bunched together, which snuggly fitted the old lock.
As the key turned inside, the barrel screeched a little through lack of use & then released to unlock the oak door. Sixteen years without occupants meant that Colin Drew & Miss Puckett were greeted by a hallway that was lined with cob-webs, as the large door inched open. The old Victorian clock, which hung next to a gold rimmed mirror, on the facing wall, had long since stopped at 17 minutes to12, its face & hands thickly silk-web covered. Miss Puckett, with hankercief covered nose & mouth, led the way. The old spinster, from the local Bockford town council, who was dressed in a conservative grey suit, which was partially concealed by a thick brown imitation fur coat, looked more like an old-time American bank robber, than someone of respected authority. Ma Baker came to Colin Drew’s mind as he followed in tow. He visualized, the rather amusing scene if their entry had been greeted by a surprised squatter,(he hoped not). To be honest, if it were to have happened he couldn’t entirely say for sure which party would have been more startled, the squatter, or Ma Baker (alias Miss Puckett). He chuckled to himself at the thought of it.
After the masked spinster & the casually dressed salesman had surveyed the whole property at a rush, it was decided that Colin would bring his wife Nancy & their children over for a good look tomorrow, at 11am.
Two weeks later, over lunch, after they’d received the surveyors report, which indicated that the property was of sound construction, the decision to purchase Abbots House was made. However, they would need to wait a couple of weeks at least before the house contents could be listed & cleared for auction, with all the money made, inclusive of the house sale, going into a trust. The couple were assured that the council & their respective solicitors would see to all that, as well as organising the cleaning of the premises after, which was unusual considering the administrators were footing the bill. When at last the auction came it inevitably attracted many curious locals. Most of the furniture along with the Victorian clock sold for good prices & were purchased by an antique dealer from Highgreen. Photographs & personal items were packed into boxes & stored. Eventually the house was emptied & clean, awaiting the family’s arrival. So after a period, stretching back two years including negotiations, the Drews had finally bought the house at a knocked-down price, but there was a catch, there always is under such circumstances. For it wasn’t everyone’s idea of a dream home, but the new owners believed with a lot of work & all of their savings it could at least go some way to fulfilling their dream.
The previous owner Jim Miller had died tragically in the driveway when his jacked car had fallen on him & crushed him sixteen years before. This had happened not long after the youngest of his two sons, had been lost at sea. Many suggested that the accident had occurred after Jim Miller’s normally safety conscious nature had been compromised by grief. Others even mentioned suicide. Jim’s eldest son Jack, on hearing of his brothers death, had returned after being away for many years & had been at home when the accident happened. Soon after his fathers funeral Jack left the country only to be killed in an earthquake two years later, whilst visiting Tokyo, Japan. With one son dead & the other lost, the house by law had to stand silent for at least 7 years, in case the youngest, against all odds, should ever return. As well as this there had been no other living relatives left to claim the inheritance. Therefore, the property stood void of occupants for seven long years before it could be resold. Therefore many stories had sprung up in the years that followed, which deterred a number of prospective buyers, that was until now. There were other technicalities that also contributed, but they had long since been resolved. So Colin & Nancy along with their 14 year old son & 10 year old daughter moved into their new home. They hoped to bring joy & happiness to the old house & for a time they succeeded.
Over the years there had been some strange occurrences at the house that had fueled the rumours & speculation, that circulated around the town. However, because of its remote location there weren’t so many of the Bockford folk that ventured that way at night, especially in winter, after dark. Except that is for the odd police panda car, but even that was scarce after the government cut-backs. Eventually steam glass windowed cars, containing couples performing extra-marital, backseat affairs, or juvenile courtships, were more common. Only their used condoms on the drive way indicated such nocturnal activities had ever occurred there at all.
Local children were known to play in the overgrown gardens & the adjoining woods by day, but not even the bravest dared enter the house, for fear of it being haunted. Most of the ghost stories were the design of worried parents, who hoped that their concocted tales would be an adequate enough measure to prevent the shame of their child from ever being caught inside, in the event of a break in. In reality the housewives-tales told of the house bringing bad luck to all those who dwelt within. To be fair there are many such houses dotted here & there, that are uninhabited, or derelict for whatever reason or another, that have their share of Ghost stories, but Abbots House was different. Even after the Drew Family moved in it was a couple of years before Colin would find its secret & that would only be the beginning.


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Written by T.R.Vinnicombe (aka Dr. Peter Hodgkins) ©2009 all rights reserved & none of the contents of this site can be copied or used in any way without the written consent of the author. Published online by MicroHotStar 2009.

The Beginning; Prologue - The Attic

Excert 1, Prologue: The Attic. posted 2009-12-29

It was the second half term & he had worked hard & things had gone exceptionally well academically speaking, but deep inside he felt a little empty. Although he had topped almost all of the subjects covered, there was something missing.
There had been a certain amount of pressure on him to follow in his father’s footsteps. However most of the pressure was self inflicted.
It was true enough, that he was extremely interested in the subject as a whole, but somehow it didn’t seem to fit his vocation in life. -Well, not completely anyway. Therefore, without being able to explain it, he had developed some doubt regarding his choice of career, but he had kept it to himself, ignored it. After careful consideration he had decided that it was probably down to too much work.
Anyway, the plan was to take it easy for the week, in the hope that it might allow him to recharge his batteries. He would feel much better after the break, he was sure of it.
So, pottering around in the garden & perhaps clearing out the garage, for his father (at a push), was all that he intended to do. Sometimes however his mother, without warning, had other plans that he wished to avoid. It wasn’t as if he was lazy or anything either. It was just that it tended to be her junk that required chucking out most of the time! He soon learnt that this particular occasion was no exception to the rule. His mother asked him to clear some old boxes & it wasn’t until Tuesday morning that he reluctantly climbed the rickety wooden ladder to the attic.
A couple of strip lights, that were suspended from the rafters on chains, lit the roof space adequately enough, as he hit the switch. Funnily enough there were no signs of cobb webs as he had anticipated, but the cardboard boxes that had lay there neglected smelt musty.
There was little of interest for him amongst the items that were boxed, except for old toys that triggered memories of his childhood that he had long forgotten. Otherwise, there was cutlery, clocks, glasses, the usual junk.
He had been going through the motions of completing the chore when in a darkened corner he discovered something. He had already moved many of the lighter boxes down to the hallway & had returned to the attic when under some lampshades he found a small locked chest.

Written by T.R.Vinnicombe (aka Dr. Peter Hodgkins) ©2009 all rights reserved & none of the contents of this site can be copied or used in any way without the written consent of the author. Published online by MicroHotStar 2009.
 

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NOTES from the Author:

I wrote this initial book during an extremely turbulent period in my life, where I was tested to the limit psychologically; During this time I crossed swords with a number of very nasty people, with unethical approaches to life for no apparent reason other than the personal enjoyment of seeing someone else suffer. It was also a case of power being abused. Luckily I was aided by an angel that came to the rescue through a very unexpected route, but, as a result of this, I urge you to thread with caution & to perhaps not throw away a card when a complete stranger hands it to you & assures you that he can help you out of any mess, especially when this is re-enforced by others in the room after the man has left! Thankfully I kept the card, even though I proclaimed at the time that “I never need any help & I don’t get into messes that I cannot get out of myself” – that’s all I’ll say at this point. Well I was wrong & two years later I rang the number on the card & the rest is a complete story worthy of a Hollywood blockbuster! In itself the story that unfolded could be a very interesting read indeed, although I am not brave enough to disclose it at this point in time. Maybe this will change in the future - we will have to see?? Anyway the book kind of mirrors this time in my life, which was a complex series of maneuvers; Therefore writing became my therapy & I will admit, unlike many before me, that it was a release to absolutely base many of the bad characters in this book on real nasty pieces of work that I actually encountered. The great thing, unlike in real life, was that I was then able to kill them off in horrible ways, which was my revenge. Now- not many writers, amateur or professional, will openly admit that, will they? On top of this the main character in this book became an extension of my personality in many ways; a kind of alter ego. However many of Stark’s attributes are characteristics that I only wish I had when I don’t. I understand from my experiences of writing that most writers base a lot of their main characters on themselves in most instances or on attributes that they wish they had! Finally, nearly all the places & a lot of the events in this book are based on real places & events, that I, or friends or associates of mine, had visited or encountered. In other words, much of this book, apart from the murders & violence, is based on twisted truth, seen through a half cracked mirror.