Winner of our LRC Horror Story Competition
The 13th The night was cold and wet, but in the parlour of Beaumont manor the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. The Arnolds were apprehensive, for it was the evening of the 13th. The two girls, Elizabeth and Judith, sat quietly in the corner. Beside them, Mr and Mrs Arnold stood absently holding empty glasses; which were not so long ago filled with fine aged tasting brandy. Though not the superstitious type, many fearful tales of unfortunate happenings on this ‘cursed’ night, led them to ponder whether or not sinister forces grew powerful on this day. Each creak, scrape or knock echoed throughout the house, causing sudden jerky movements and fresh waves of unease. Elizabeth surveyed the grandfather clock at the far end of the room. The hands struck eleven and the chimes that followed resonated like eerie footsteps. Nervously glancing at her family, she stood up to pour herself some water; perhaps that would help wash down her fears. Making h