Showing posts with label demons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label demons. Show all posts

Friday, April 23, 2021

Indie April Suggestions - Part 7

 For today’s Indie April showcase, I want to throw the spotlight onto 3 authors who write some of the spookiest stuff out there. So, without further ado, let’s meet these gentlemen.


John F Leonard




John F Leonard is one of many highly talented writers I’ve found on Twitter. He writes cosmic horror (one of my favorite genres), as well as wonderfully spooky stories.


The Bledbrooke Works and Congeal are suspense filled tales of terror. Bledbrooke is something of a prequel to Congeal, so you might want to read it first.


Congeal is a post-apocalyptic tale that is downright chilling. It’s the kind of slowburn horror that stays with you, that continues to haunt you long after you’ve finished the book.


Next on my reading list is his The Dead Boxes Archive, and I’ll be reading it during the daylight hours.


Here are John’s Amazon pages:


US

UK

Canada

Australia

Germany


Check him out. He’s really top drawer, and fast becoming one of my favorite authors.


Andy Graham




Andy Graham writes masterful tales of chilling terror. I hate reading his stories at night, because, quite honestly, they give me bad dreams.


He has the dystopian Misrule series, The Risen World Supernatural thrillers, and I Died Yesterday, a collection of dark fiction tales.


Graham is an accomplished wordsmith. Begin one of his books and you’ll be biting your nails and saying, “What was that noise?”


I’m currently reading A Demon Risen. But only while the sun is up.


Here is where you can find Andy Graham on Amazon:


US

UK

Canada

Australia

Germany


Ray Zacek




Ray Zacek can scare your socks off, or make you laugh with his macabre dark humor. And when he turns to satire, it’s funny, biting, and somewhat chilling all at the same time.


Want a scary story? Try Cosecha and Daguerreotype. Satire? Try Fresh Catch: Fiction Sushi. Dark humor? Give The Sisters a read. I love his books and you will too.


Take a look at Ray’s Amazon pages:


US

UK

Canada

Australia

Germany


He’s a superb storyteller who you will fall in love with. I guarantee it.



John F Leonard, Andy Graham, and Ray Zacek are masters of the art of telling us a good story. They are producing some of the best fiction being written today. Give them a try. You won’t be sorry.


Comments are always welcome. And until next time, happy reading!

Thursday, May 30, 2019

The Medusa Ritual - Installment 18




The Medusa Ritual
A Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigation
by
CW Hawes


Dotty’s rescued. But will Pierce Mostyn be able to stop the Masked Man’s escape?
Read on for the thrilling conclusion of The Medusa Ritual!


Chapter 23


Mostyn hit the floor, and took out his pistol. He saw light in the entryway of one of the tunnels, and then gunfire erupted.
Jones, Mostyn thought. Hallelujah!
Arcing through the air were two flares. They hit the wall and fell to the floor. The bright light illuminated the situation in the small chamber. Mostyn’s eyes swept the room. He spotted two men struggling to drag Dotty from the chamber.
Mostyn fired a double-tap from his pistol, sending two forty-five caliber bullets into one of the men. The man pitched forward as if he’d been hit with a sledgehammer. The other man let go of Dotty, turned around, and fell backwards under the impact from another pair of bullets sent by Mostyn’s pistol.
With pistol in one hand and knife in the other, Mostyn low crawled across the floor to where Dotty lay. When he reached her, he positioned himself in front of her and took in the scene. Several of the black suits lay dead, there was no sign of the masked man or the Chinese woman. Jones, Baker, Hammerschmidt, and Stoppen entered the chamber. NicAskill stood up, her knife blade colored red.
Dotty groaned, and muttered, “Chinese woman. Stop her.”
Mostyn touched her cheek, stood, and said, “That tunnel,” he pointed to the one he meant, “the masked man and the Chinese woman were there. Let’s go.”
“Wait a minute,” Jones said, “where are the lizard people?”
“You saw them too?” NicAskill said.
“They led us here,” Jones replied.
“Well, I’ll be…,” NicAskill muttered.
“Let’s go!” Mostyn shouted. “Jones, NicAskill, you first. And when you see the masked man or the woman that was with him, shoot first, ask questions later.”
“Right, Boss,” Jones said, and plunged into the tunnel, with NicAskill following.
“Baker, Hammerschmidt, you two help Dotty.”
“My God, Mostyn, she’s in her birthday suit,” Baker said, dropping his pack and stripping off his shirt.
“Thanks, Willie Lee,” Mostyn replied, and to Dr Stoppen he said, “Follow me!”
Mostyn and Stoppen plunged into the tunnel. Almost immediately Mostyn noticed the tunnel descending deeper into the earth.
Maybe this connects to the auditorium, he thought.
Jones and NicAskill were about fifty ahead of Mostyn. They ran around a curve in the tunnel, and a moment later Mostyn, significantly ahead of Stoppen, rounded the curve and almost ran into Jones, who’d stopped.
Before them stood the Chinese woman. Her hand was raised in a signal to halt. “The master says, goodbye. It is time for you to die.”
The Chinese woman’s eyes turned red and she began to change shape.
“She’s the Gorgon!” Mostyn yelled, Dotty’s words suddenly making sense. Jones, NicAskill, and Mostyn opened fire on her. The Gorgon’s body shook and twisted under the impact of the bullets, but was still standing when the three OUP agents ran out of ammunition.
Her beautiful face was still visible, but her body was halfway between a woman’s and something amorphous, slimy, and tentacled. Out of her head, where her hair had been, tentacles were emerging. Rivulets of green ooze were streaming from the many wounds. Mostyn could already feel a certain paralysis setting in. He turned around, ejected the magazine from his pistol, slammed a new one home, and racked the slide. He grabbed his mirror, held it up, and opened fire, watching the monster in the mirror. The first half dozen bullets missed. The next two, however, smashed their way through the thing’s neck, nearly severing the head.
The Gorgon collapsed to the floor. Jones shook himself, muttering, “What the hell?”
NicAskill shook her head and took a deep breath. “My God, I couldn’t breathe.”
“You two alright?” Mostyn asked.
“Yep,” Jones said. “Although for a moment there, it was like I couldn’t make a decision.”
“Me, too. But I’m ready to go, sir,” NicAskill added.
“Where’s Dr Stoppen?” Mostyn asked.
“Here.” Stoppen crept around the curve with a sheepish look on his face.
“Okay,” Mostyn said, “let’s go. One monster down, and one to go.”
Down the tunnel they continued, coming out in the auditorium, which smelled of scorched stone from the thermobaric grenade.
Jones swept the place with his flashlight and helmet lamp. “No one seems to be here.”
“The masked man disappeared when I tossed the stun grenade on the dais,” Mostyn said. “There must be another tunnel somewhere around there.”
The team walked to the dais and Jones swept the area with the twin beams of his lights.
“Give me your flashlight,” Mostyn said.
Jones handed the light to him, and Mostyn walked to the back wall, sweeping the beam of light across the stone. Not finding what he was looking for, he panned the beam of light across the floor.
“Ah, here it is,” he said, pointing to a crack along a portion of the line where the floor and wall meet. He then played the beam of light along the wall. “I don’t see a trigger, unless…” Mostyn pushed on the door and it swung inwards, revealing another tunnel.
“Jones, wedge this open so Baker and Hammerschmidt can follow.” He then entered the tunnel followed by NicAskill, Stoppen, and Jones.
Jones called out, “I saw Baker and Hammerschmidt enter the auditorium with Kemper when I jammed open the door.”
Mostyn waved his hand to signal he’d heard.
They followed the tunnel as it made a couple right angle turns and finally emptied into a large chamber. A chamber that was illuminated and filled with books, thousands of books filling the shelves from floor to ceiling along all four walls. In the middle was a large desk and chair. In one corner was a large and ornate Oriental folding screen. The screen was black and on it was a swirling chaos of red and orange, with two yellow cat eyes peering out of the chaos.
From around the screen, stepped the masked man. “You have found me. Most unfortunate for you.”
Mostyn raised his pistol.
“You cannot kill me, Mr Mostyn,” the masked man said.
“Want to see me try?” Mostyn replied.
“Many men have, you see, and I am still here.”
Behind Mostyn, Jones, and NicAskill, Dr Stoppen took out of his pocket a small black object and tossed it over the head of Jones. The little thing hit the floor, bounced once, and transformed into a hulking black monstrosity.
The masked man cried out, threw a handful of red dust into the air, and turned to flee. The monstrosity reached out, grabbed the masked man, pulled the screaming man to itself, and vanished.
“What the hell was that?” Jones asked.
“A class three demidaimonus,” Stoppen said. “A gift from Dr Bardon. For emergency use only.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” NicAskill said. “And you had this thing all the time?”
“Well, not all the time,” Stoppen replied. “Dr Bardon gave it to me before he left. He thought we might have use for it. But only in the most dire emergency. I thought this qualified.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Jones asked.
“Because Bardon said not to. If you have an issue with him swearing me to secrecy, take it up with him.”
“That’s alright, Otto,” Baker said, having entered the room with Hammerschmidt and Kemper at the tail end of the conversation. “We all know Bardon moves in mysterious ways his wonders to perform.”
Mostyn clapped Jones on the shoulder. “You ought to know by now, the Director has lots of goodies up his sleeves.”
“What I don’t get,” Jones said, “is why he just doesn’t do all this himself instead of sending us in harm’s way.”
“Well, Jones, he’s not God,” Mostyn replied.
“He’s almost like God,” NicAskill said. “Are you sure he isn’t some kind of supernatural being?”
Mostyn shrugged. “I only know what he told me.”
“Which was?” NicAskill said.
“That he’s human. All too human.”
Jones shook his head. “Yeah, right.”



Epilogue


Dr Rafe Bardon lit his old bent bulldog briar pipe. The odor of sweet Virginia pipe tobacco filled his office. Sitting on the other side of his desk were Mostyn and his team. There was an empty chair in remembrance of Dr Winifred Petrie.
“I want to begin by saying thank you for an outstanding job. You destroyed a star vampire and the Gorgon. Wing Lee is no longer with us. His incredible library is being cataloged by Dr Stoppen. And we have made contact with the lizard people. All in all, a superb job. Thank you all.”
“What about the family of Fiorella Flores-Hernandez?” NicAskill asked.
“Yes, very unfortunate,” Bardon said, nodding his head slowly and gravely. “They will be adequately taken care of.”
“But what did you tell them?” NicAskill pressed.
“Something they could believe,” Bardon replied. “After all, who would believe that an extra-dimensional entity killed their daughter by turning her to stone? Why such things are the stuff of myth!” Bardon’s face was serious, but there was definitely a twinkle in his eye.
“Well, again, I want to thank you for your service. You all did fine work. Thank you.” Bardon stood and everyone knew that was the signal the meeting was over. As people began filing out, Bardon said, “Mr Mostyn and Dr Kemper, if you’d be so kind as to wait a few moments?”
When everyone was gone, Mostyn and Kemper resumed their seats. Dr Bardon sat and relit his pipe. When he had it going, he spoke.
“I’m glad you got there in time, Pierce, otherwise our Dr Kemper would not be here and, well, we’d have a bigger problem on our hands.”
“What problem, sir?” Dotty asked.
“Don’t have time to go into it now, my dear. No, no time.”
Mostyn looked at Dotty. “Yes, we were very lucky getting there when we did, sir,” Mostyn said.
Bardon smiled. “Oh, I don’t think luck had anything to do with it.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Mostyn asked.
“Just what I said, my boy, just what I said. Now, unfortunately, I can’t give you two any time off. A very big discovery has been made by one of our satellites. The photos are phenomenal, and I have to send you two out right away.”
Bardon slid a folder to the edge of his desk. Mostyn picked up the folder and took a look inside.
“Is this for real?” Mostyn asked.
“It is, Pierce, my boy, it is.” Bardon rubbed his hands together in obvious glee. “The opportunity of a lifetime.”
“For crying out loud,” Dotty said, “will you two let me in on what’s going on?”
“Sorry, Dot,” Mostyn said, “we’re going to Saudi Arabia.” A wicked smile appeared on Mostyn’s face. “And just think…”
“What?” Dotty said.
“There won’t be any trees.”
A look of disgust appeared on her face. “Maybe not, but there will be plenty of goddamn sand. For once, just once, I’d like to get an assignment in a city.”
Dr Bardon leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his ample stomach. Around his pipe, his mouth was stretched into a big smile. “Oh, you will, Dr Kemper, you will.”



The End




If you enjoyed reading the working draft of The Medusa Ritual, and would like to know when the final version will be released, become a VIP Reader and be the first to know! You’ll also get the Pierce Mostyn novelette, “The Feeder” — which is available only to my VIP Readers! 

If you haven’t read the other books in the Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigations series, check them out on Amazon.

What people are saying about the Pierce Mostyn series:

“…a fast-paced story with lots of action, yet does not neglect the characters.”

“Hawes has a great time with this series and does a good job (too good) of leaving us wanting more.”

“This series is fun…”

“…a weird tale of adventure, humor, and horror.”



The Medusa Ritual is copyright © 2019 by CW Hawes. All rights reserved.

Friday, April 12, 2019

The Medusa Ritual - Installment 11




The Medusa Ritual
A Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigation
by
CW Hawes


A strange story about a Chinese immigrant, a powerful wizard, mysterious happenings in Chinatown, a man who perhaps never dies, and an act of God, or maybe the Devil, that silences a man of God.
Read on! The adventure continues!



12


While Mostyn was examining platt books and learning about the old LA subway and the other tunnels beneath Los Angeles, Jones and Dr Hammerschmidt drove to the north end of Chinatown. Their first stop was the Chinese Catholic Church.
“Why are we stopping here?” Hammerschmidt asked.
“Because it’s this way, Harbin, priests and ministers know a lot about the community. They circulate, visit people, people tell them things they wouldn’t dream of telling anyone else. I’ll be very surprised if we don’t get something of value from Father Paul Chang.”
Jones and the chemist walked into the church. The lighting was dim, and the cool air felt good, for the day was promising to be a hot one. The men scanned the interior looking for a sign indicating where they would find the office. 
“Why don’t we try that door,” Hammerschmidt said, pointing to a door off to the side of the altar.
“Sure, why not?”
The men walked over to the door, and Jones opened it. There was a smallish room with a door leading outside, and two other doors, one of which was marked “Office”.
Jones walked over to the door marked “Office”, and opened it.
A young Chinese woman looked up, smiled, and asked how she might help them.
“We’d like to talk to Father Chang,” Jones said.
“I’m sorry. He’s at prayers right now.”
Jones held up his ID for her to see. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but it’s important that we see him now.”
The young woman looked from the ID to Jones, her face clouded with fear.
“You don’t have to worry,” Jones assured her. “We are not here because the church did anything wrong.”
She breathed a sigh of relief, and stood. “I’ll tell him you’re here. Please have a seat.” She left, and the OUP agents, masquerading as agents of the IRS, sat in the hard plastic chairs.
After a few minutes she returned and told them the priest would see them in his office, which was the room next door. Jones thanked her, and he and Hammerschmidt left.
Jones knocked on the door for the priest’s office, and when a voice said, “Come in”, he opened the door and walked in, with Hammerschmidt following.
“I’m Father Chang. How may I help you?”
Jones answered, “We’re looking for a rare book. Has anyone in your parish seen or heard about a rare book?”
“What kind of book?” the priest asked.
“The kind your church would have burned back in the Middle Ages,” Jones replied.
“Some kind of book on sorcery?”
“You could say that,” Jones said.
The priest thought a moment before speaking, and when he did start speaking he glanced at the crucifix hanging on the wall.
“I hear lots of stories. Most of them are routine and mundane. Some, though, are quite unusual. Those said in the confessional are said with the understanding that they are confidential.”
Jones said, “I understand.”
“Several weeks ago, an old man told me his grandson was involved with a great lord, the grandson had bragged that things were going to start changing soon because the great lord had a book that gave him tremendous power, and that he, the grandson, was going to be an important man.”
“Did the grandson say where the book was?” Hammerschmidt asked.
The priest shook his head, and looked at Hammerschmidt. “No. Just that it was in a safe location deep underground.”
“Did he say anything else about this book?” Jones asked.
“No. He was more concerned about how to protect his grandson from the evil forces he thought were at work.”
“What kind of evil forces?” Jones asked.
“Demonic powers.”
Jones nodded, while Hammerschmidt asked the priest if he believed in demons.
“I do,” Chang replied. “There is good and there is evil in the world. God the Father and our Lord Jesus Christ,” the priest crossed himself, “will have the ultimate victory. In the meantime, I believe the words of scripture: the devil goes about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.”
“Do you have any idea who this ‘great lord’ might be?” Jones asked.
“There is a legend,” Chang began, “that a young Chinese man came to America in the eighteen seventies. This young man’s name was Wing Lee and he had been a powerful wizard in China. His downfall came about because he was arrogant. He challenged an older wizard to a duel and lost. Wing Lee fled China and came to America under the Burlingame Treaty. He worked as a coolie building the levees here in California.
“Around eighteen eighty, he was working as a scab and got involved in a race riot, where it is said his face was disfigured. He took to wearing a mask to hide the disfigurement and eventually he came to Los Angeles and set up a tea and herb store with the money he’d saved. His business began to thrive and he married.”
“Sounds like a typical immigrant story,” Jones said.
Father Chang nodded. “Yes, it does. However, Wing Lee’s wife was very young. After she bore him four sons and two daughters, she left him for a rich white man. Wing Lee was devastated and vowed revenge. It is said, he returned to sorcery and through magic eventually gained control of Chinatown and a large portion of the valley.”
“And what does this story have to do with the ‘great lord’?” Hammerschmidt asked.
“It is rumored that Wing Lee still lives and that he is the ‘great lord’.”
“That should be easy enough to disapprove,” Jones said. “After all he should be dead by now.”
The priest nodded. “Should be. But Wing Lee disappeared shortly before World War One. There is no death certificate. Many Chinese believe he is still alive. They say he has prolonged his life by means of blasphemous rituals. And that he will eventually destroy the white man for stealing his wife.”
Jones raised his eyebrows.
Hammerschmidt asked, “Are there any photographs of Wing Lee?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Chang replied.
“Is the family still here?” Jones asked.
“They are,” Chang said, “but they are very secretive. No one has knowingly seen them in decades.”
“So who is the old man’s grandson involved with?” Jones asked.
Father Chang shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Jones stood and Hammerschmidt followed. “Thank you for your time, Father.”
“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Jones replied. “You’ve been very helpful.”
Jones and Hammerschmidt walked outside.
“Where did the sun go?” Jones asked, for the sky was covered with dark gray and black clouds.
Hammerschmidt pointed. “Look at that vortex. Looks like a tornado is forming.”
“It sure as hell does,” Jones said. “Come on, let’s get to the car.” He took out his phone to make sure the conversation had been recorded. Noticing that it had, he put the phone back in his pocket, and ran over to the car. He unlocked it and got in, the chemist right behind him.
The two watched the wind pick up debris from the streets and carry it up into the air.
“That vortex is heading right for the church,” Hammerschmidt said.
“Kind of weird, isn’t it?”
“I think so.”
When the vortex was over the church, the two OUP operatives watched a swirling cone descend out of the vortex. They watched the rotating black funnel rip up roof tiles, as though it was a giant drill tearing a hole into the building. And then the funnel withdrew into the swirling black vortex.
In a matter of just a couple minutes, the black and gray clouds disappeared, and were replaced by blue sky and a thin sheet of cirrostratus clouds.
“What the hell did we just see?” Hammerschmidt said.
“I don’t know, but we’d better check out the church.”
The two men got out of the car, ran over to the church, and entered the building. There was no damage to the sanctuary. They walked back to the office area. There they saw a circular hole in the roof and nothing but debris and litter where are the two offices had been.



To Be Continued!




While waiting for the next installment, the entire Pierce Mostyn Paranormal series is available for your reading pleasure.

Do you hate cliffhangers? There’s none in this series. Each book stands by itself.

Do you think books are magic? That for just a little while you can be anywhere, doing anything? Then join Pierce Mostyn and experience some magic!

What people are saying about the Pierce Mostyn series:

“…a fast-paced story with lots of action, yet does not neglect the characters.”

“Hawes has a great time with this series and does a good job (too good) of leaving us wanting more.”

“This series is fun…”

“…a weird tale of adventure, humor, and horror.”




Are engaging characters your thing? Join my VIP Readers and you’ll get the Pierce Mostyn novelette, “The Feeder” — available only to my VIP Readers! 

And you’ll be the first to know when the revised book version of The Medusa Ritual comes out!



The Medusa Ritual is copyright © 2019 by CW Hawes. All rights reserved.