Ghastly, indeed!

Here is a sort-of horror story i wrote:

The lightning energized the air around it, generating a deafening boom as the plasma struck the ground. It was not the only one. A group of lightning bolts followed, the sound creating an impression as if a highly disorganized drum band of giants were entertaining gods above the floating clouds.

                The thunder was what jolted criminologist Kathleen Jones from her uneasy slumber. Peering outside the musty window, it seemed to her that Zeus had claimed war against Gaia, striking her with lightning bolts and anything else he could get at hand. The sensible part of her brain remembered the fact the Hurricane Arlene was fighting its way to Texas. Pulling the blankets tightly around herself, she tried to ignore the din for the simple, yet necessary, replenishment of sleep. The chilled air kept her from drifting off to that faraway dreamland, so she forced herself up to switch on the comforting light and start reading her novel. Instead, she found herself gazing at a blue light emanating through a small crack between her door and the wall. Something compelled her to edge towards this mysterious radiance, and to open her door just a little crack; but just a little crack was all that was needed for her to be caught under its spell.

                Alas! How she swayed, how her feet refused to obey her, how she toppled to the ground with a thud! For just a few meters away, in her very own hallway, floated a blue translucent being of some sort with a veil across its face. Its ragged clothes suggested a commoner; one of no importance, one whose death would never make the news. But wait till it reveals its face! With a yank it pulls off the veil that concealed it, revealing the grinning skull of a woman, with a few long strands of hair protruding from the back. Its eyes, blood red, turned toward the gasping, helpless Kathleen. But its intention was not to harm; but to warn:

                “That man, that man…” she croaked in a whisper first. “Not to that man, not to that man, DON”T GO TO THAT MAN!!!” the ghost’s voice launched to a shriek that echoed. “NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Still screaming, she lifted her hungry eyes, finally contacting with Kathleen’s. “DON”T GO!!!!”

                As soon as the eyes bore into hers, Kathleen experienced immense pain in her forehead, ripping her out of consciousness. As she lay on the floor of her bedroom, the beast did not take one step towards her. In fact, it averted its eyes as if Kathleen was so inferior that it could not lay eyes upon it. Instead, it seemed as if it concentrated, closing its eyes and not moving. At length, it opened its eyes and stared at Kathleen, as if expecting a reaction.

                As Kathleen lay, she dreamt of something she had not before. It was a hospital in Manchester, United Kingdom; that was sure. There were the usual gloomy people waiting for their turn, and the usual nurses wearing that annoying false smile. One lady, quite pretty too, seemed to be more worried than anyone else.

                “Miss Leona, please meet Dr. Harold Shipman.” Even in this absurd dream, Kathleen’s mind was still functioning. Harold Shipman. Yes. In January 2000, he was found guilty of killing 15 woman patients and possibly even 45 more. Some authorities think that he killed as much as 400 people. He hanged himself in a prison cell on the 13^th January 2004.        Kathleen was dreading what she believed was going to happen, but there was nothing to do to stop it.

                The lady, seemingly relieved, bustled into a nearby office. The view changes to inside the office. Leona wrinkles her nose at a disgusting smell that floods the room, waving her hand in front of her face.

                “Ah, yes madam, I must apologize. A boy vomited here recently. It took a long time to clean up, but the smell would not go. Yes, ma’am. You’re problem is diabetes, is it not?” Without waiting for her answer, he continues. “Please take this pill. It helps, trust me, although there may be side effects” No, no, NO!! Kathleen wanted to yell. She knew very well that the pill was poisoned. Leona, after a second of hesitation, took the tablet and, with the aid of water, swallowed it. At once the effects were visible. Leona swayed from side to the other. Shipman gagged her with what obviously was a handkerchief filled with chloroform. A second later, she slumped to the ground, her breathing rapid and weak, and it was only a moment until the breathing stopped entirely.

                “I did mention side-effects, didn’t I?” he laughed. The dream began to fade, and yet again the being was floating there in the hall.

                “Remember this……” a whisper, so quiet that only Kathleen heard it, yet so loud that it seemed to echo across the room. The spirit, seeming as if it had released a burden, faded out of existence, and Kathleen thankfully fell asleep into a fitful nightmare, never to tell anyone about the strange meeting.