>Chapter 01
>Chapter 02
>Chapter 03
>Chapter 04
>Chapter 05
>Chapter 06
>Chapter 07
>Chapter 08
>Chapter 09
>Chapter 10
>Chapter 11
>Chapter 12
>Chapter 13
>Chapter 14
>Chapter 15
>Chapter 16
>Chapter 17
>Chapter 18
>Chapter 19
>Chapter 20
>Chapter 21
>Chapter 22
>Chapter 23
>Chapter 24
>Chapter 25
>Chapter 26
>Vote Story
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Chapter 9
The rain fell in a steady flow unlike their customers recently. George and Mary Amos
owned a little farm and sold their produce in a small shop in town. A large supermarket had
opened down the road and George's trade was falling. The supermarket could afford to sell at
cheaper prices than himself. George sighed heavily. If business didn't pick up soon it would be
running at a loss. He had been in the shop all day by himself apart from the one and only
customer, who only bought bread and milk. At the ripe old age of sixty, any plans he had of
retiring with a tidy sum in their pockets were quickly flying out of the window.
It was five-thirty and George was looking forward to a bowl of homemade soup that Mary made so well. Ah she was a good sort was Mary. Fifty years they had been married and he could honestly say he was more in love with her now than he had ever been. They were more than just lovers were they were best friends, soul mates if you like. A wide grin spread his face as he remembered their wedding day. Him in a suit borrowed from his older brother and Mary in a dress her mum made from salvaged parachute silk. Their reception had been in the local pub. George could still feel the silky touch of that dress as they waltzed their way around the pub floor, full of happiness.
George removed the day's meagre attempt at a profit from the till and placed it in the safe. He took his
mackintosh and hat from the stand and made his way to the front door checking the pockets for his keys. He changed the sign on the door to closed, locked the door and entered his jeep. It was a
half hour drive to the farmhouse he shared with Mary. George twisted the knob on the radio,
filling his ears with war time melodies. He manoeuvred his way round the winding country lanes
like a pro. Well he had lived here all his life. He knew where every pothole and every bend lay
in this stretch of the road. He reached the turn off for his farm and smiled. The sun was beginning to set casting a dusky hue across the fields.
George parked up outside the farmhouse. A shiver ran up his spine, the hair on his neck suddenly standing to attention. Something was wrong. He couldn't quite put his finger on it
but something was definitely wrong. Then it came to him. "Where's Ben?" Every day their retriever Ben would greet him at the jeep, barking like there was no tomorrow but there was no sign of him today. "Ben, Mary where are you?" He shouted but there was only silence. Even the birds had
stopped chirping in the sky. He quickened his pace almost running into the kitchen. His soup was boiling up over the edge of the pan, hissing furiously as it hit the naked flames. George took the pan off the heat. "Mary! Where are you?"
After hurriedly checking the rest of the house George ran outside to check the barn. He was
getting seriously worried now. Mary had angina. What if she'd had an attack or had fallen over
and couldn't move. Running now he burst though the wooden doors of the barn screaming for Mary. His own heart began to vibrate at the sight of his beloved Mary having her brain extracted
by an animal of some kind. The beast was at least seven feet tall, its shaggy matted fur soaked
in Mary's blood. The beast had ripped Mary's head away from her torso, which lay on the floor,
her blood seeping in to the hay. The beast sharply turned it's head and glared at George with
it's jet black eyes. Mary's life juices were dripping from it's sharpened fangs in to a little
puddle on the barn floor.
George was shaking now, his heart beating so fast he thought it was about to burst through his
chest. Glancing around the barn George saw that his four prized horses had suffered the same fate as his wife. Anger surged through his veins now. Retracing his steps George backed off towards the door where he kept his shotgun. It was loaded thank god! Trying not to let his tears interfere with his aim he shot the beast in the back. The beast threw Mary's dismembered skull to the floor and charged towards George, its razor sharp talons ripping his flesh to pieces. George fell to the floor landing in something sticky.
"Ben!" The beast's huge weight crushed George's chest, puncturing his lungs with his own ribs. The beast let out a deafening roar. Lifting George's head with its large paws he smacked it on the concrete, cracking his skull in two like a coconut. As his life flashed before his eye's George thanked god that it had been spent with Mary and that he had kept his promise. He would never live without her.
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