Fast Fiction On-the-Go
Horror stories from, to, around or related to Blackpool Bay.
In the late summer, before the storms began to roll in, Mary Antoinette Athelard drowned herself, or so the police said and the newspapers reported. And, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, that is what happened. In the small hours of the morning when the world[…]
Read moreIn the summer of 1938, I died horrifically. What is more disconcerting than this fact was that my consciousness remained behind in a disembodied form. As a rigid scientist and staunch atheist, the matter of me becoming a ghost rather irked me. I had originally been visiting my great-grandmother on[…]
Read moreHe had been following her for three months as her trail cut across the country. She had started by the coast, moved inland, hit the other coast, and then veered North in what began as a zigzagged-dawdle that steadily picked up pace, intent and ferocity. He had started about a[…]
Read moreIn all the dusty annals, sidenotes and forgotten addendums of history, there are few stories stranger than that of ‘Miss Daisy of Blackpool Bay‘. I now reside far inland and, after I have repeated this tale to you, I suspect that you will too. But, I digress. Apologies. The poppy[…]
Read moreIf you look at me now you will struggle to realize that I was once the esteemed Curator of the Old Museum in Blackpool Bay. I was dignified, respected and well-funded amongst my peers. My current circumstances in this institution seem as pitiful as my constitution but I feel I[…]
Read moreHe woke up in his bed screaming, covered in cold-sweat and his heart pounding in his chest. He sat up straight, gasping for breath as if he had been drowning or swallowed. What a strange thought, he thought to himself, swallowed? And just then a single isolated and arbitrary memory[…]
Read moreThe light was as fragile as a feather as it filtered through the quiet, somber oaks that lined the Old Cemetery in Blackpool Bay. The quiet in that place seemed removed from the occasional car the drove passed and the odd voice or radio that wafted in from a million[…]
Read moreDespite being late Summer, the air of Blackpool Bay retained a surprising chill to it. It was likely that the ocean’s nearby current cooled the air but none of the dour, weathered locals seemed to notice. By the looks of them, he doubted that any of them cared. He had[…]
Read more“Oh, the tree comes with the apartment,” the Estate Agent mentioned waving at it as they moved through the lounge area, “The previous owner considers it part of 307’s furnishings.” The tree was small–head-height–and had a trunk that was made up of what looked like thick, gray, twirling vines that[…]
Read more“Hopefully he dies soon. We can’t delay the tunnel anymore and there is less paperwork with a death than a disability. The tunnel must happen.” Edward Athelard was shocked at the speaker. He just stood in the hospital with his mouth open gawking at her. His Grandmother had taken over[…]
Read moreThe whole Blackpool Bay dock area smelt like fish. Old, barnacled fishing boats lined its sides as weathered men dourly stomped awkwardly around with seemingly uncertain land-legs. Fish and other slimy things were hidden away in crates and being loaded into small, unmarked vans. Even the old man behind the front[…]
Read moreAs evening fell in the quiet town of Blackpool Bay, a strange man walked into the General Store. No one had seen him arrive, but no one had been specifically looking. This was all a bit unusual, as few people travelled this far along the coast and outsiders stuck out[…]
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