Hi everyone it's been awhile but I am back with a vengeance. I have written the first in a series of horror stories called Taster Horror. The story of John Dunne is about a man trapped in the morning on the day he and his family die. John is trying desperately to work out why he is in the middle of a Ground Hog Day Syndrome. No matter what he tries to do he and his family wind up dying horribly. If you like the Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock stories check this out.
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Check it out here.
The Day John Dunne Died Again and Again and Again
Free Sample below
The Day John Dunne Died Again and Again and Again.
By Virinia Downham
Copyright ©2016 Virinia Downham
All rights reserved.
ISBN 978-1-365-40251-7
INTRODUCTION
John Dunne heard the squeals of his two daughters as they fought over the latest toy in the cereal packet. The smell of strong coffee toast and marmalade familiar smells that pulled John out of bed and gave him the incentive to sleep walk in to the bathroom. From there on life was on automatic pilot shower, shave, dress. Jeans white shirt and black leather jacket, bike boots where he had left them under the bed.
The few seconds of calm before he walked in to the kitchen and greeted his family.
Maria dressed in grey sweats her black hair in a sensible pony tail ready for her run the minute John whisked the girls off to school. John liked her best like this no make up her smile genuine as she saw him. It had always been like this the magic of seeing each other and knowing that what they had was real and forever.
“Daddy! Ruby’s taken the toy. She says it’s her turn but it’s not. She got the toy last time. Tell her Daddy.”
John bent down and kissed the top of Sophie’s head. His eight year old daughter a miniature of her mother, black hair, big brown eyes, will of steel, determined always to have her own way. Take no prisoners.
He reached to his left and kissed the top of Ruby’s head, the one who had taken after him pale skinned Eurasian eyes, black hair as fine as silk. The one who always made life harder than it had to be for everyone else. A dreamer.
“You got the toy last time Ruby. Hand it over.”
That look. Injured angry.
“No.”
John knew it was going to happen. It was inevitable time to be umpire, fair but firm.
“Ruby don’t make me ask twice. You know I’m not a morning person.”
“But Daddy I want it.”
“Yeah and I want a sleep in but hey life’s hard and then you die. Hand it over to Sophie.”
The huff the heavy sigh filled with frustration. “I hate this family.”
“No you don’t.” John brushed the drop of marmalade off his seven year old daughter’s face.
She jerked away. “You always take her side.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes you do.”
The toy given over bedrudgingly. The poking out of tongues. Sophie triumphant, Ruby disgusted with the injustice of it all.
“The coffees hot.” The peck on the top of his head. Maria reached over and deposited his mug of Italian coffee on to the table, her breast brushing against his arm. The aroma of the coffee was rich and strong. That shared look grateful on his part and understanding on hers. John reached for the mug and took a sip feeling the drink fire through his blood..
The shake started gently, unexpected but it was nothing to be afraid of. John put down his mug on the table and watched the dark coffee shudder inside like jello.
Maria continued to pack the lunches. If everyone panicked every time there was an earthquake tremor in San Francisco nothing would ever get done.
Sophie chewed on her piece of toast and Ruby caught up her plastic mug and gulped down the last few mouthfuls of soya milk.
There was a change in tempo, the tremor grew louder. The china cups on display in the cabinet above the sink fell off the white shelf and smashed against the glass. The silver toaster hopped up and down like it was cooking an angry frog inside.
“Daddy?”
“It’s OK Sophie. It will stop in a minute.
But the shake didn’t stop. It got worse.
Maria stopped packing the lunches and staggered back to the table. John watched in horror as the floor beneath their feet buckled and started to move like a wave smashing against the shoreline. The rumbling grew deafening, a monster bellowing, drowning out their screams. John reached for Ruby and Sophie. Maria staggered to his side and threw her arms around his neck. There was no time to say I love you. The walls and ceiling were caving in. A large section of the roof was coming down on their heads.
“Aaah!” John shot up in the bed breathing hard. Maria rubbed her hand up and down his naked back. “Another bad dream?”
John’s heart was pounding in his ears he couldn’t catch his breath no matter how hard he tried.
Maria sat up in bed beside him. She was wearing one of his vests and her curly back hair lay in messy strands around her shoulders. John was in blue and white striped pyjama bottoms. His hairless chest glistening with sweat.
The house was silent. Sophie and Ruby were in bed asleep. There was no earthquake.
“It seemed so real.” John’s voice was rough with pent up emotion. He had just seen his wife and children crushed to death.
Maria patted John’s shoulder her voice soft and soothing “It was just a dream.” She promised.
John shuddered. Something was wrong very wrong. This was not the first time he had found himself in the middle of a nightmare in which he and his family ended up dead.
