Welcome to FROST HARROW, my new modern (1990s) gothic horror series! If you’d like to support this and my other work, go to www.CushingHorrors.com and become my patron! You may also enjoy the Scribe Award-Winning MANOS: THE HANDS OF FATE – In print, for kindle, and for all e-book formats. And check out my retro-horror-comedy classic CANOE COPS VS. THE MUMMY as well as my other books. Now… On with the show!
FIFTEEN – IVY’S DREAM
Ivy woke to find herself riding on the back of a coal-black stallion.
The horse galloped along an endless stretch of black shoreline. Overhead the gibbous moon smiled down, bathing them in its pale light. Ivy had no idea what their destination might be.
Mist washed in from the sea, chilling her body. Ivy discovered she was wearing only a thin blue nightgown.
Don’t worry, said the horse. I’ll keep you warm.
Ivy could feel the ardor of the beast’s powerful body between her legs. The warmth seeped up her trunk into her head, making her feel languid. “Where are we going?” she asked sleepily.
Trust me, said the horse. You’ll like it when you get there.
Ivy looked back. She could see the dim lights of Frost Hall perched on the cliffs behind her. Pale, cold lights. Lights worth running from.
“Who will be there when we arrive? Anyone I know?”
Many people. Warm people. People whose blood runs hot like yours. People who know what it’s like to live and have fun.
Ivy reached forward and stroked the horse’s mane.
But she pulled too hard, and a large chunk of the beast’s flesh ripped off in her hand. Maggots crawled on the rotting meat beneath the skin.
The horse turned his head, his red eyes glaring at her.
Now what did you go and do that for?
The horse smiled, and the skin on his skull grew brittle and cracked. Ivy could see yellow, pus-covered bones inside—and fire.
She awoke screaming.
TO BE CONTINUED…