William Cook

This story recently won 'Runner-Up' in the P a rlor of Horror's 2016 short fiction awards and is also part of my collection 'Dreams of Thanatos' - now available to all new subscribers for free - click on the image at the end of this post to download your copy. Dead Memories 1. I had a dream on the anniversary of her death. In the dream, I heard her unmistakable voice calling me, then I saw her and she was so real, I could almost touch her again. Everything about her hit me deep in the chest, I sat bolt upright in our big empty bed. My breath gasped, sweat beaded itself on my cold skin. I could still hear her voice in the dark. I rationalized there were only two possible reasons why I could hear such a thing. I was either hallucinating, or what I heard was her ghost whispering in my ear. Then she was gone again.

UPDATE * Thanks everyone for downloading a free copy of 'Devil Inside.' The campaign is now over and many free books were downloaded. As an independent author it is nice to be able to give away something to encourage readers to take a chance on a newbie writer such as myself. I hope that those of you who did take a chance on my work and enjoyed it, will sample some of my other titles available on Amazon and/or leave a fair review. Reviews go a long way to help authors without the large bank accounts of the big publishing houses, so it is something small that you, the reader, can do to support and encourage writers like myself. Despite not making any money (so far) I love being able to share my stories with the world and feel very privileged to do so. Please leave a comment if you follow this site/blog - I would love to hear from any readers out there (if any) and any suggestions for this website and for the type of stories you'd like to read from me in the future. ...

1. I had a dream on the anniversary of her death. In the dream, I heard her unmistakable voice calling me, then I saw her and she was so real, I could almost touch her again. Everything about her hit me deep in the chest, I sat bolt upright in our big empty bed. My breath gasped, sweat beaded itself on my cold skin. I could still hear her voice in the dark. I rationalized there were only two possible reasons why I could hear such a thing. I was either hallucinating, or what I heard was her ghost whispering in my ear. Then she was gone again. I lay down and listened, my breath held in my chest, afraid to break the silence. The dawn light bled through the cracks in the blind as I strained my ears, listening. Listening for her sweet voice, playing her words over repeatedly in my weary mind – ‘There’s no turning back. There’s no turning back now.’ I longed for her touch, the feel of her soft cold skin, her beautiful words carried on her sweet breath. The memories came flooding back – ...