Dreadful Tales Samhain Celebration Wrap-Up
The wonderful folks at Dreadful Tales were nice enough to dedicate an entire week to Samhain Horror, with interviews, reviews and articles with authors (such as myself) and editor Don D’Auria. If you’re a fan of horror, this is a treasure trove of insight and hopefully a reason to add to your “to read” pile. You can catch up on everything right here! Dreadful Tales Samhain Celebration Wrap-Up.
It’s Here! Evil Eternal vs. The World
It’s a great day here in the Shea neighborhood. My second book with Samhain Publishing, Evil Eternal, is now available and can be had a pretty damn good price (under $5!). I’m honored to be part of the Samhain family and have been impressed every step of the way since they took this orphan in last year.
Now, I’ve already given you an excerpt in a previous quote, breakdown of the book on my Books page along with some advance reviews. So, what the heck esle do I have to talk about (other than the various posts and article on my blog tour—see previous post)? I figured I’d give you a little Shea family snapshot and show you how Evil Eternal grew from a tiny idea to a full-fledged, demon-killing novel.
Way back when Bill Clinton was asking the world to define the word ‘is’, I got a spanking new computer. The best way to test drive that Gateway was to write a short story, preferrably something with larger than life characters, demons and gore. Hey, it’s what I was in the mood for at the time. Well, I cranked out a short story about this undead priest called Father Michael who stumbles upon scenes of carnage wrought by a demon called Cain (he of Cain and Abel infamy). 
I wrote it, I read it, I liked it. So did other folks I showed it to. I went on to write another story, placing Father Michael in the NY sewer system seeking demons in dark, filthy tunnels. About a year after I had written both stories, a Bram Stoker nominated horror website came to me to see if I had any ideas for a monthly e-serial. I thought, hey, I’ve got just the thing!
So for a few months, I wrote new chapters for the website, leaving each on a cliffhanger. It was great fun. Alas, the website shut down well before the story was finished.
There were plans to make it a graphic comic and a great friend started preliminary artwork. Comic publishers were contacted, but no one took the bait. Oh well. I may be a big comic book reader, but I was never too saavy about the business side of the medium.
I had an ending that was just itching to be written, so I went back and finished what I started and had a dandy novella. And that’s the way it sat for quite a while.
Enter Samhain, stage right. As I was digging through my drawer of misfit manuscripts, I showed my editor the novella. The next question was, “Can you flesh it out and make it a novel?” Hell yeah, I can! I dove back into the Evil Eternal world and added a new beginning, ending and beefed up everything in between. I had a ton of fun writing it. This is ‘let your freak flag fly’ territory.
And now it’s finally here. Be sure to check in at the ‘ol blog and chain and the various blog tour stops for giveaways and fun. Next time you’re in church, thank a priest. They may save you from death at the hands of a demon some day. 😉
Evil Eternal – A Sneak Peek
It’s hard to believe that my next novel with Samhain Publishing, Evil Eternal, will be available May 1st as an ebook, with print coming in early September. It feels like Forest of Shadows just came out a week ago and here I am gearing up for another round of horror-fueled madness.
Evil Eternal has all the subtlety of a Cat-5 hurricane. I had originally designed it to be a graphic novel but over time it morphed into a full length novel. It’s been described as ‘rip-roaring grand guignol’ and an over-the-top battle royale of good vs. evil.
So, to get you all revved up and ready, put on a little mood music (I suggest anything by Wagner or White Zombie), sit back, and enjoy the follow excerpt…
EVIL ETERNAL – Ante
Hot sand blew into the stranger’s face as he crested the dusty hill. He refused to blink, refused to admit even the slightest defeat to the power of nature and the one who birthed it. He spat on the lone tuft of grass that clung to the hilltop, laughed as it turned a bilious brown, wilting back into the dry earth.
He was surprised to find a small orchard of fig trees lay nestled in the valley below, a lush land fed by the runoff from the surrounding hummocks. At the outer edge of the orchard sat a clay home, baked hard in the sun, big enough to house three, maybe four people. The leaves of the fig trees chittered in the breeze, mocking him. He’d see to that.
Using his gnarled, wooden staff, he descended the hill in a matter of minutes, his bare feet finding a solid grip with each step. The sun was strong and burned the back of his neck. He pulled his woolen hood over his head, pausing a moment to take in the orchard from eye level.
Available for pre-order now!
Five rows of a dozen trees each were spaced out evenly across the valley. Thousands of ripe green figs hung from the branches. They looked, to him at least, like swollen scrotums. He reached up to pluck one, grimaced as it discolored in the palm of his hand, turning a mushy black and melting between his fingers.
The tree followed suit, the figs dying and falling in a rain dance of heavy plops, bursting as they hit the ground. Leaves shriveled up, became brittle, while the branches sagged as if saddled with the weight of the moon.
Crack!
The trunk split in half, the bisected tree collapsing in opposite directions.
The verdant soil around the tree transformed to a cancerous black, spider veins stretching to its neighbors, the scene of rapid decay and death replayed again and again until the orchard was a killing field, the soul of the land corrupted beyond measure.
This made the stranger smile.
Two men erupted from the house, hands on their heads, wailing in shock, anger, fear. Their life’s work had been destroyed in a matter of minutes, struck down by an unseen plague. A woman holding a child to her breast emerged. She looked across the demolished field and cried. The baby fidgeted in her arms as if it too could sense that something had gone terribly wrong.
One of the men met the stranger’s gaze, pointed.
“You did this?” he cried. It was more a question than an accusation, for the moment. The strange man in his former orchard was the one thing that did not belong. If he was not the cause, and how could one man do this, then perhaps he was witness to the death of his beloved fig trees.
To the man’s amazement, the stranger bowed and said, “Yes, I did.”
Fire flashed in both men’s eyes and they disappeared into the house. The woman turned away from him, shielding the baby from his view. The men emerged brandishing long swords. They held them high above their heads, charging.
He waited for them to come to him, to wear themselves out running across the barren field. They swore curses as they rushed headlong, prepared to maim this stranger who had taken their life from them through some power they did not and could not understand. But they did understand retribution, the swifter the better.
The stranger waited until they were several steps away before raising his walking stick above his head. It caught both swords as they swooped down to cleave him from shoulder to hip. With a flick of his wrist, both swords were torn from their hands, buried in the unyielding wood of his staff. He tossed it aside, grabbing for their throats.
He closed his eyes, in the throes of an orgasmic rapture as he felt their windpipes crush between his fingers. They swatted at his thick forearms to no avail. He squeezed tighter, cutting off their supply of oxygen, demolishing the inner workings of their respiratory system. They wouldn’t be needing them much longer.
Their throats collapsed one after the other with an audible rending of cartilage and muscle. He released them, looking on in amusement as they dropped to the ground, their eyes distended, tongues swollen and lolling from open mouths.
The woman sobbed, falling to her knees. He came to her in slow, steady strides, confident that she would not run from him. She looked up as his shadow loomed over her.
“What kind of monster are you?” she asked, defiance in her eyes. Her baby had grown silent, tucked within her robes.
He leaned on his staff, regarding her with cold curiosity.
“I’m the best kind of monster.”
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You can pre-order Evil Eternal or add to your Wish List by clicking any of the following links:
Signed Copy Giveaway and the Latest Updates
First, I want to thank everyone who has come to this blog, FB, Twitter, offered words of encouragement, bought my book or helped get the word out. Sales have been great and as of today, I’m still haunting the top spot with my publisher. Your support and responses have truly made my heart grow 3 sizes.
Since the NFL playoffs are going to be starting soon and I still have to get the beer for the day’s festivities, I’ll make this quick. My debut novel with Samhain, Forest of Shadows, is now available as a trade paperback. I’m all for the whole e-book thing. I 
know it’s the wave of the future…or more like the reality of the present. I even have a Kindle (as does one daughter, with wifey owning the lone Nook in the house). But man, there is nothing like the feel and smell of a new book. I know I’m not the only one who takes a good long whiff as I flip through the pages for the first time. Come on, you can tell ‘ol Uncle Hunter.
To celebrate the print release of Forest of Shadows, I’m giving away 2 signed copies to random folks who comment on this blog post. It’s that easy. “But what should I say in my comment?” Well, anything that comes to mind. Let ‘er rip, or be short and sweet. Winners will be announced Monday night, 1/16/12.
In other news, I finished the first draft of the sequel to Forest of Shadows, tentatively titled Double Walker. For those of you who already read FOS, I leave it to you to guess which character the follow up will focus on. We’re just 5 months away from the relase of my next book, Evil Eternal. Guaranteed to blow your mind. Last but not least, a short story of mine, Commandment Eleven, has been picked up by Dark Moon Books and will be unveiled in time for the World Horror Convention.
Okay, enough of Mr. Big Mouth. Comment away and good luck!
Interview with Author Jonathan Janz
Jonathan Janz is new to the horror scene, just like Tim Tebow is to the NFL, only JJ is a hell of a lot better at what he does. Now, I’m not saying we’re lifelong buds or neighbors, but from getting to know him over the past 6 months, I’m pretty secure in saying they invented the phrase “he’s the salt of the earth” to describe this guy. His debut novel with Samhain Publishing, The Sorrows, is the real deal. Think The Haunting meets the early work of Phil Rickman (and if you have never read a Phil Rickman novel, you can return your Official Horror Fan Membership Card). This book has the iron jaws of a pit bull, except this is one angry dog you’ll be happy to cross.
Jonathan was nice enough to answer my sometimes bizarre questions. Here they be, in all their gory…glory.
1.Your debut novel, The Sorrows, is now out through Samhain Publishings new horror line. Tell us a little about your book, you know, something that will compel us to buy it as much as terrify us to sleep with the lights off.
To borrow a question from my favorite horror novel (Peter Straub’s Ghost Story), “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” If you’re imagining it, I now want you to imagine the face of the person you wronged. Then imagine that face growing dark with rage and pursuing you…even after death. That dread is at the heart of The Sorrows.
The novel is set on an island, and this island (called the Sorrows by its long-dead inhabitants) is haunted by events nearly a century old, as well as a bestial creature that might or might not be a Greek god. If you travel to the island, you better hope your slate is clean because any soul you’ve ever wronged will find you there…for violent and unholy retribution. 
Also, The Sorrows is about two composers (and two female companions) traveling to one of the most haunted places in the world (the island) to find inspiration for a big-budget horror movie being shot by the most demanding director in film.
2.If you were guaranteed to be an overnight sensation writing in another genre, what would it be and why?
Whoa, great question. I think I’d write readable literary fiction. By that, I mean stories that people can actually understand without having to squint at the page for an hour trying to figure out what the hell the author’s laboring to say. I think of writers like Cormac McCarthy and Ian McEwan…man, I love those guys, and I’ve heard them called all sorts of things, but to me they’re both deeply literary and fantastically skilled. So I’d like to write stuff that exhibits both those qualities. In fact, I’m already working on a couple of things…
3.OK, you’re invited to spend the night in a haunted castle, say Leap Castle in Ireland, with the stipulation that you must be alone and have no source of light. Do you go? If you do, what do you expect to happen?
Truth? Or something that will make me sound manly and virile? The truth is, I’d never spend a night away from my kids (I’ve got three of them under the age of six) because I’d miss them and worry about them.
But let’s say, for the fun of it, that I’m ten years older, and my wife and kids and I are vacationing in Ireland. Some guy says, “Hey, Lad, I’ll put a thousand bucks each in your children’s college funds if you spend the night alone at Leap Castle.” I’d do it then, and I’d spend the rest of the night scared out of my mind imagining all sorts of things.
Do I think I’d really see something? Other than the puddle of urine pooling around my feet? I don’t know, and that’s what makes the prospect of spending the night in a place like that so frightening. I might see nothing, though my imagination would conjure all sorts of awful things. I might also see something real, which is truly terrifying.
4.For the aspiring writers out there, can you describe your road to publication? Also, do you have an agent and how did you connect with him or her?
My road was very Beatlesesque—long and winding. I’ve been rejected so many times I’ve come to tense my stomach muscles like Houdini every time I open my inbox because a gut punch is always on the way. That sounds cynical, but it’s the truth. You’ve got to be determined, you’ve got to accept that you don’t know everything, and you’ve got to have enough stubbornness and confidence to stay with something that most days brings you nothing but negative feedback. And silence.
I don’t have an agent at the moment, though I’m about to start shopping again. I once had one, but that’s a long, dull story that I’ll spare you for today. Having said that, I fully believe an agent is necessary to maximize a writer’s success, and I’d very much like to find one. The key, though, is compatibility. She/he has to like your work, and you have to have faith in her/his abilities. So yes, I do want an agent and believe I’ll get one when the time is right.
5. Quick, in 30 words or less, describe your current work in progress.
What if the two traditional depictions of vampires—the romantic, haunted loner, and the monstrous, insatiable beast—were only phases in the transformation into something far more terrible? And infinitely more powerful?
That was thirty-two words, and you still don’t know the title (Loving Demons), or who my protagonist is (Ellie Crane) or how her husband Chris becomes obsessed with a beautiful woman who lives in the forest where he and Ellie move, or how Ellie conceives a child but soon learns she can’t leave because the forest and the spirits that live there won’t let her leave, or how a demonic cult once sacrificed—
Okay, I cheated a little, but that’s a start. (Hunter : Dude, you cheated a little??)
6.What is your favorite horror movie and novel? Aaaaand, whenyou were a kid, what was your all time favorite cartoon?
Movie: Jaws or The Exorcist. The former is better-made, but the latter is scarier.
Novel: Peter Straub’s Ghost Story. The gothic structure of that book changed my writing forever, even though I didn’t even try to write until five years after I read the book.
Cartoon: Bugs Bunny and Tom and Jerry. No wonder my stories are so violent!
7.Last one. Whats the weirdest thing you’ve ever written and did you ever let it see the light of day?
The weirdest thing is probably a novel called Blood Country that I actually reference in my debut novel The Sorrows. It’s a bizarre hybrid of a crime novel a la Elmore Leonard and a bloody horror novel by someone like Richard Laymon. Actually, it’s far bloodier than most of even Laymon’s stuff, so I guess the title is apt.
I did indeed let it see the light of day about three years ago when I finished it and began querying agents about it. The responses went something like this: “I really like your writing, and there’s no doubt you can do suspense very well. And I know I stated in my guidelines that I wanted dark. But…well…not this dark.”
I plan on reworking it after my next three novels are done (the aforementioned Loving Demons, another I’m about eighty-percent done with called Native, and the novel I’m going to write this coming summer). Blood Country is weird, dark, and disturbing. But I like it, and I think readers will, too, once I get it right.
Thank you so much, Hunter, for having me on your blog and for asking such awesome questions. Forest of Shadows was OUTSTANDING, and I’m proud to be published alongside you!
**If you want to read a truly insightful, sometimes hilarious, but always honest blog, check out Jonathan Janz, the Blog!
Interview with Author Russell James
The great thing about being part of the new Samhain Horror family has been meeting some of the new and seasoned authors that they have brought together. Russell James is one of those cool dudes in a loose mood. He has a chilling new novel out, Dark Inspiration. If you want to read a book that will actually make you sleep with the light on, look no further. This is classic horror at its best. Russell was nice enough to sit down for an interview with yours truly. Enjoy!
1. Your novel, Dark Inspiration, is right in my personal sweet spot. It
has a haunted house, creepy old cemetery and sinister secrets. Tell us a
little more about the book, especially something that will put chill down
our spines!
Doug and Laura Lock try to fulfill many couples’ fantasy. They quit their
jobs and move to a country dream house and hope to re-fire their personal
and professional lives. But Doug finds a hidden attic full of some creepy
taxidermy left by a deceased former resident and starts doing some twisted
experimentation. You experience Doug’s personal descent from inside his
head, and it’s not pretty. His plans for his wife are…well, you’ve got to
read it. 
Laura is influenced by the spirits of two twin girls and Doug encounters
the spirit of their uncle. Neither of them shares their experiences with
the other and so start living parallel, secret lives. When the lives
finally intersect, it goes off the rails. Way off. Honestly, the two of
them could have used some paranormal advice from John Backman from your
Forest of Shadows.
2. What was the aha moment in your life when you decided you wanted to
become a writer?
I remember having a short story published in a junior high literary
journal and thought that was the coolest thing ever. But the idea of
seriously writing and having other people want to read it was so daunting
a task, I never considered trying.
I would tell my wife stories I thought up when we went on long drives in
the car. She kept bugging me to write them down. Tired of my lame
excuses not to, and knowing I worshipped at the paperback altar of Stephen
King, she bought me his On Writing for Christmas a few years ago. Reading
that made me realize that I could write something, if I applied myself.
3. Every writer has a special journey to publication. How did you come
about having your book published by Samhain?
Again, credit goes to the wife. The next Christmas after On Writing
arrived, she got me an online writing course at Gotham Writer’s Workshop.
Two short stories I worked on there ended up getting published.
Nice start, but several unsold novel manuscripts later, success wasn’t
knocking. I took an advanced Gotham class to see what I skills I was
missing. During that class, the instructor alerted us that Samhain was
having the equivalent of open auditions for horror books. I had Dark
Inspiration fresh off a tour of publisher and agent rejections, so I sent
it in. In a million-to-one-shot, Don D’Auria bought it.
Trust me, I wake up every morning thankful for the stroke of luck that got
me here today.
4. What book have you read that really scared you and made you want to
sleep with the light on?
I really like reading collections of true ghost stories. A personal
experience when I was kid made me a true believer.
There are times I’ll read about an event and both arms go to goose pimples
and my heart skips a beat. That’s the good stuff.
5. OK, suppose you had to hire a monster as a contract killer. Out of
Jason, Michael Meyers, Freddie and Pinhead, who would you choose and why?
I have to send Freddy Krueger. He can kill someone in their dreams
without a trace. Plus in his free time I can have him Edward Scissorhands
my backyard shrubbery.
6. In three sentences or less, describe what you’re currently working on.
I have a short story coming out in December on a podcast called Tales of
Old. It’s historical fiction about a World War I fighter pilot. So you
can read it on the website or download and listen to it.
The next novel is called Sacrifice and will be out sometime in 2012. A
group of kids destroy an evil demon in 1980, but thirty years later find
out they may not have finished the job. They return home to confront the
demon, their own aging, their past mistakes. The demon isn’t going to go
quietly, and this time has friends.
Visit Russell James’s website to learn more and order a copy for the holidays!
And if you want even more reasons to be afraid of the dark, check out Forest of Shadows.
New Book Cover Preview and Other Bits and Bobs
Despite the title of this post, I am not a resident of the UK. I just like to pretend I am from time to time, like when I call people punters and say things are brilliant.
My own national identity issues aside, I was bowled over when my editor sent me the cover for my next book, Evil Eternal, which will be out in May, 2012. It has demons, damsels in distress, blood and guts galore and even a touch of humor from time to time. Here’s the cover:
Pretty freakin’ cool, right?
In other news, the reviews for Forest of Shadows have been glowing, which brings a tear to this writer dude’s eye. I just saw this review posted on Dreadful Tales and really feel my wife and I must have a baby so we can name it after the reviewer. I swear, I never met the guy and no money exchanged hands. Here are some excerpts. To read the whole review, go to Dreadful Tales.
“Hunter Shea is absolutely ruthless. The man writes with a passion and aggression that will leave you helpless in its grasp. Shea keeps his eyes on the prize and everything else is secondary. He wants you to cringe. He wants your skin to crawl. He wants to positively scare you out of your god-given wits. Above anything else, Forest of Shadows is a genuinely scary book. It took a few restless nights and one incredibly vivid nightmare about whispering shadows and the floating visage of a young boy, before I realized how successful this book was at scaring the living daylights out of me. It had worked its way into my brain and nestled in there, coiled to spring at any given moment. This book scared me in a way I haven’t been scared in a very long time.
I can respect an author who takes the ghost story and completely disregards its well worn conventions to create something truly original. He preaches from the Altar of Pulp- spewing a sermon filled with his own merciless interpretation of what this genre should be. I love seeing a newcomer just completely rip it and own the living daylights out his writing. “
And for those of you who aren’t hip to my Facebook fan page, you have to come over and like the page, if only to take part in the super simple weekend giveaways that I do every week. You can win signed copies of stories, gift cards, or even have your name used in a book! Stop by every Saturday to catch the latest giveaway.
I’ve been very busy working on the sequel to Forest of Shadows and will soon post a little something I wrote about every writer’s fear : putting your work out there for the whole world to critique. Yikes! So far, I’ve been lucky, but it ain’t always pretty. I’ll also be filming some new Monster Men podcast episodes and we’re going to launch our brand new author interviews. We’re lining up authors this month and should have them live in a few weeks.
Thank you to everyone who has read this blog or gotten in touch with me on Facebook, Twitter, the Samhain Cafe, and all the other places I pop in and out of from time to time. You’ve been simply amazing and recharge my battery every day so I can sit my ass down and get to writing!
Happy Halloween! Spooky Excerpt from Forest of Shadows
I think it goes without saying that Halloween is my favorite holiday. I mean, what’s not to like? Thanks to the Walking Dead, I expect to see a lot of zombies, big and small, shambling through the streets tonight. Since many of you will be prowling around in the dark, I thought it would be nice to give you a little excerpt from my novel, Forest of Shadows, to help send you on your way. Remember, be wary of the shadows! ———–
A strong breeze gusted outside and whistled through a partially open window in one of the upstairs rooms. Judas suddenly realized he was alone in the inky blackness of a house that, despite their little test, had something very wrong with it. He sprinted into action and clambered down the steps. He cast a backwards glance, sure that something was just behind him, an inch away from grazing the back of his neck. Tiny needles of terror started a parade that originated at his lower back and danced up his spine. His breath was knocked out of him for the second time in the house when he walked smack into Teddy’s immobile figure in the front doorway.
“What the hell, man?” he said when he regained his footing.
Teddy motioned for him to come closer with one hand without turning his head or body. Something was happening outside that had him spellbound. Judas’s heart sank as a vision of the sheriff’s car parked next to his flashed across his brain.
All of the saliva in his mouth dried up as he reluctantly edged around Teddy to face his fate. He could almost feel the harsh pinch of the handcuffs, hear the monotone of his rights being read to him.
Except there was no sheriff’s car.
Judas’s old Ford was right where they had left it, alone in the night.
“What’s the deal?” he asked.
“Look at the truck.”
Click the cover to learn more or order your copy.
“I did. Was there a bear near it or something?”
“Look again.”
Teddy was breathing in quick, syrupy gulps. Judas moved his gaze back to the truck and squinted hard.
And then he saw them.
Moving shadows, some flitting across the hood, others oozing up from the ground and undulating around it. They swirled, formed a single mass, then broke apart into dozens of pulsating black globs, a sentient dance of darkness.
Judas gasped and the shadows froze.
Radio Interview With Samhain Horror Authors
A few days ago, I took part in a radio interview for Diabolical Radio with several other Samhain Horror authors. We talked about our roads to getting published, why we love and write horror and of course, our current releases and upcoming books. I believe we were all sober and no one can be heard cheering or cursing in the background, since Game 1 of the World Series was on at the time. 
If you’ve ever wondered what makes a horror writer tick, you definitely want to check this out. Click here to listen to the interview.
Roll call of those who were part of the interview:
Kristopher Rufty, author of Angel Board.
Ronald Malfi, author of Borealis.
Brian Moreland, author of Dead of Winter.
Jonathan Janz, author of The Sorrows.
And of course, me, The Forest of Shadows guy.
Don’t forget to check out my fan page on FB where I run a new contest every Saturday with lots of cool giveaways. OK, have to get ready to go see Paranormal Activity 3 so us Monster Men can post a new review. Remember, if a vampire knocks on your door, DO NOT let him in. The bastard will think he owns the place.
Forest of Shadows Preview
The release of Forest of Shadows is only 1 week away and it’s time to get the ghosts out of the closet and from under the bed. Following is the opening chapter. You might want to sleep with the lights on tonight…
PROLOGUE
They screamed.
And impossible as it seemed, George Bolster was grateful for his family’s unbridled cries of terror as they masked the other unearthly sounds that ghosted their every move.
Whump. Whump. Whump.
The steady beat of an unseen giant’s footsteps up the stairs.
“Into the bedroom, now!” George shouted at his panicked wife and sons. They scrabbled into the room at the end of the hall while the floor quaked beneath their feet. Once inside, George slammed the door shut and braced his back against its oak frame. His sons Cory and Matt clung toSharon’s sides, their eyes wide and terrified, darting around the room, looking for death in benign shadows.
“Sharon, push the dresser over.”
Stifling a sob that made her entire body shudder, she reluctantly pulled away from the boys and ran over to the large dresser. George grunted as the unseen force in the hallway pounded against the door.
“Hurry!”
Matt leapt to his mother’s side to help push the heavy piece of furniture across the floor and against the bedroom door. Cory, who was only six and barely forty pounds, could only curl up into a corner and whimper. A clap of thunder made the entire house quake and they all shrieked in unison. George still pressed his weight against the door while Sharon and Matt gathered as much bulk as they could find and piled it as high and as fast as they could on top of the dresser.
The door shook as it was rammed again and again, so hard that the arch above the doorway began to crack. It wouldn’t be long before the entire wall would collapse and then where could they go?
A deep thrumming emanated from beyond the door, a sonorous hum that was not so much heard as it was felt. It hurt like hell. They felt it vibrate their chest walls, disrupt the hammering rhythm of their hearts. It crept up their spines and exploded in their skulls, threatening to liquefy their brains.
So they screamed. Fighting fire with fire. The pile of debris stashed against the door shook as the pounding on the door continued. Staggering on jellied knees, George peered out the sole window into the moon bathed woods outside. It was only a drop of twenty feet or so. Maybe, if he jumped first, he could catch them one at a time and they could run into the woods. But it was so damn cold, well below zero, and they didn’t have a coat between them. Could they possibly navigate their way through the snow steeped forest to their nearest neighbor a mile away?
Suddenly, everything stopped. The pain ceased and they all dropped to their knees. What sounded like a thousand tiny claws ticked across the hardwood floor of the hallway, retreating to the other end and descending the staircase that lead to the living room below.
George shook his head and went back to the window.
“Is it gone, daddy?” Cory whispered.
“I don’t know. Everyone stay quiet.”
He kept his eyes on the faintly illuminated yard and his ears tuned for any sounds within the house. Matt and Cory muffled their cries into their mother’s breast.
“What are you thinking?”Sharonmouthed.
George pointed out the window and used two fingers to simulate running. It was their only chance.
“George, we’ll freeze to death.”
One look from her husband ended any protest. Gently pulling the boys from her sides, she went over to the dresser and found two blankets, several pairs of sport socks and one wool hat. She worked in silence, wrapping the boys in the blankets and putting an extra pair of socks on their shoeless feet. Cory, being the youngest and frailest, got the hat.
George gathered his family by the window.
“I’m going to jump into the snow out there. Matt, I want you to go next, then Cory, then mom. Once we’re all out, I want you to stick close and run as fast as you can. We’re going to try to make it to Glenn’s house.”
“But that’s really far and it’s so dark out,” Matt protested.
George hugged him and felt close to tears. “I know, little man, I know. But we have to get out of here and Glenn’s house is the closest to us.”
“Maybe it’s gone away,” Cory said. They all looked towards the door. The entire house had been silent for almost five minutes now.
Sharonplaced a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “It might not be a bad idea to wait a while and see.”
George wanted nothing more than to run like hell from his house. Freezing to death was a welcomed option to the thing downstairs.
“I’m not sure−”
The floor exploded just five feet from where they sat as the assault recommenced, this time from below. A fist-sized hole opened up between the splintered wood. A maniacal rush of thrashing and clawing blasted from the fresh portal as the floor shook from repeated efforts to widen the gap.
“Everyone up!”
George threw the window up hard, shattering the glass. Without a moment’s hesitation, he jumped out into the cold night. He landed in a three foot pile of snow that cushioned his fall. His right leg throbbed a little and his lungs hurt as he sucked in his first draft of frigid air.
“Okay, Matt, jump!” he shouted.
Sharonplucked her youngest son and aimed him into his father’s waiting arms. George caught him and they both fell back into the snow. He was back on his feet by the time Cory had himself perched on the windowsill. Cory looked back at his mother, afraid to leave her alone, even if it was only for a moment.
“Go, Cory. I’ll be right behind you.”
The opening in the floor grew wider as more shards of wood shot out of the hole like lava from a volcano. Cory sprang into the air and almost sailed past his father. After a quick tumble in the freezing snow, George was back up and waiting forSharon.
Heavy moaning filled the room.Sharon’s bladder lost control. Something was trying to find purchase on the jagged edges of the hole. Something huge, black and evil.
“Sharon! Come on!” George and the boys were shouting to her from the yard. Momentarily mesmerized by creeping fear, she turned back to the window and placed a foot on the sill.
As she prepared to jump, a trio of shadows stretched from the trees like a sentient ink spill and engulfed her family. One second they were there, calling for her to jump, and the next instant they were gone as the shadows retreated back into the forest.
“Nooooooo!”
She never noticed the presence behind her.
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Forest of Shadows Cover
Hunter Shea 