Blackwood Manor: A Horror Short Story

By Gair McDonald

Welcome to Blackwood Manor, a three-story Scottish house steeped in ancient history and myth. For many years the manor has remained abandoned and left to rot, until now. The Marshall Family has arrived. Hank and Emily are hoping that moving out to the country will give them a fresh start with their daughter Amy. But evil lurks in the most unlikely of places, waiting for new victims to cross its threshold.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gair McDonald
• Release date: Oct 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310301810

Gair McDonald

Gair McDonald is based in Aberdeenshire, Scotland and has been passionate about writing for over ten years. To date, he has written short stories, several screenplays, and two television pilots. In his spare time, he enjoys going to the cinema, gym, walking, and spending time with his children.Follow Gair on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/gair.mcdonald?fref=ts&ref=br_tf

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Blackwood Manor

Gair McDonald

© 2014

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2014 © Gair McDonald

Published by Gair McDonald

Aberdeenshire, Scotland

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever, including photography, xerography, broadcast, transmission, translation into any language, or recording, without permission in writing from the publisher. Reviewers may quote brief passages in critical articles or reviews.

The characters depicted in this story are completely fictitious, and any similarities to actual events, locations or people, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

Edited and Formatted by Brian Moreland

Cover Design: Brian Moreland

Image manor © PackShot - Fotolia.com

Image raven © Eric Isselée - Fotolia.com

Image clock face © wongstock - Fotolia.com

Some houses keep secrets.

The three-story monolith that was Blackwood Manor stood on a shadowy, six-acre lot, surrounded by dense woodland. A pile of timber and plywood sat outside the black iron gates, which were infested with rust, the clear protective cover flapping around in the wind. The delivery men were too superstitious to go beyond the gates up the crooked path to the grand oak door. A pumpkin, carved with an evil face, sat to the right of the door. From above, a raven landed on the manor’s roof. The bird shuffled a few steps to a more comfortable position, one it was perhaps accustomed to. The raven turned its head in one direction and then another as it watched over the manor grounds. No one had ventured onto the lot for many, many years, until now.

A purple Range Rover Evoque, private registration EM1 ILY, sat in the driveway alongside a top-of-the-range, sleek silver Audi TT Sport. As the Marshall Family moved into their new country home, the October sky was overcast with dampness in the air. Thunder rumbled ever closer as Hank and Emily Marshall carried boxes from their cars, while their seven-year-old daughter, Amy, ran through some puddles toward the backyard.

Emily yelled, Amy, you’re going to ruin your new shoes!

There’s a barn behind the house! Ignoring her mother, she kept splashing through water.

Emily Marshall, an athletic, professional model with long, golden hair, grumbled. Physically, Amy was a miniature clone of her mother, but when it came to new adventures, she was more like her father.

Hank smiled. Oh, let her explore. She hasn’t seen the place yet.

Emily looked up at the dark clouds rolling in. A bolt of lightning cracked the sky behind the manor. Rain dampened her hair. A soggy day to be moving, Emily muttered. She was still in a sour mood about leaving behind their flat in the city. She cringed at all the spiky trees that cluttered their lot. We’re so far away from everything. Do we even have neighbors?

There are a few houses farther down the road.

Maybe we should have gotten a place closer to Glasgow, said Emily. A quaint cottage in the ‘burbs. This house is much too big for us.

Nonsense. Hank admired the medieval, English Tudor architecture of Blackwood Manor. It was a bit weathered with age and neglect, but it had its charm. This place is perfect. According to the real estate agent, an Earl had built the manor as a country retreat back in the late 1500s. Beyond that, its history was foggy.

Hank Marshall, in his late thirties, was thrilled to get away from the noise and smog for the peace and solitude of country living. Out here he could focus on his passion―making hand-crafted furniture. He took a deep breath and sighed. It already feels like home.

Emily gave him a face that said she didn’t share his enthusiasm. When Hank had found the house, she had been busy with fashion shows