This is the start of a horror story that I wrote a couple of months ago that I found in my documents. Its kind of gory so if you don't like that sort of thing then I don't advise you to read it, any way if you like it then I might add some more chapters, any way read and hopefully enjoy.
The river Amble flowed through Gloucestershire. The River flooded local towns and villages every spring and autumn. This year was no exception.
The Amble flowed and flooded many towns including the small village of Appleside. A large forest was situated next to the town. It was wild, bracken and gorse grew freely between the ancient oaks. In summer deer galloped in between the trees, but it was spring and the river had turned the forest into a wet marsh land.
The river flowed out the forest and past rows of houses, and into the town centre. It flowed past a school and had flooded the playing fields. The town clock struck 8. It was a normal spring evening.
Groups of cul-de-sacs made up the main living spaces. They were average suburban terraced houses. It was in one of these normal and average homes were it all started.
The entire left side of the house had collapsed in on itself. The front door was hanging off its hinges and crimson blood was splattered on the upstairs windows. Smoke was pouring out of a hole in the roof.
The heat within the house was unnatural. Blood flowed thickly down the stairs. Smoke clouded the landing but the unmistakable crackle of fire could be heard. Three long claw marks were visible in the hall way streaking down to the kitchen.
What was once a living room was to the left. Dust clouded the room, the source of the collapse must have been an explosion at the fire place, shattered photos and glass from a smashed coffee table littered the floor.
A dining room was straight ahead. A large table had been split down the middle. Blood was thick on floor and wall. An eyeball was left, unattached, one the floor. Chunks of flesh had been spread across the room. The wall between there and the kitchen had been blown apart.
A dripping noise was coming from the kitchen. Blood was dripping from the ceiling onto smashed kitchen appliances. Pair of legs was sticking out of fridge freezer.
A conservatory extension was added to the kitchen before the family arrived but now it was a skeleton. Shattered glass and blood had flooded the floor, sitting in the middle as a young boy non older than 10, holding his father’s chest and torso. Both arms and a leg had been ripped off along with its head and had been sliced down the middle. The child was paled faced and was cut all over. A long deep cut had formed down the side of his face and under his chin. Smaller cuts lined his body from shattered glass. He had a blank expression and in one of his hands was his dead father’s spinal cord.
A small garden backed on to the house. Another torso had been dumped there. The rest of the garden had been flooded by the river.
Neighbours soon appeared on the scene and their screams pierced the night air. Sirens and screams soon filled the air. One lonely hooded figure surveyed all this from the cover of the forest.
The only thing louder than the chaos from inside was the river eating away at the gardens and town. But that was all normal for a spring evening. But this was the last normal spring evening Appleside would have for a long time yet.