Simon Curtis
Stories (69)
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Reflections on the Great Works of Linthorpe
You probably haven’t heard of Norman Linthorpe. It would be something of a surprise if you had as his brief spell of fame at the turn of the century disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. He was the child of a well connected Doctor and the daughter of a minor member of the nobility. He was well educated, had read Chemistry at Bath University and taken a well paid job at a well established company in Manchester working on cynanides as a bi-product of the tar refining industry. His family had gifted him a very pleasant townhouse in the developing city of Salford And. He was able to employ a kindly housekeeper who he began to see as a surrogate grandmother. He was very popular unsuccessful in his career and was endlessly harassed by his mother to find himself a good wife. He wasn’t completely opposed to this idea but was opposed to the endless dinner engagements. He was expected to join when he returned to the family home where he would be introduced to numerous very pleasant young women none of whom he hit it off with.
By Simon Curtis10 months ago in Horror
The Boy in the Red Jumper
Pete had reached another birthday and marked it by opening a bottle of mid-priced red wine. He was a comfortably off middle-aged man who had reached middle-management and stayed there. Life was absolutely adequate for the Senior Account Manager who played squash midweek and a round of golf at midday on Saturday trying to get his handicap below 15. Pete was comfortable and reasonably happy but as he looked around his semi-detatched home he knew something was missing.
By Simon Curtis11 months ago in Fiction
My family
There was a tap, tap, tapping in my childhood home. None of the four of us living there could work out where it came from. Mum said it was the wind through the rafters. Dad was certain there was a problem with the plumbing. My sister Alice was convinced we had a mouse in the walls but me. I thought the tap, tap, tapping was only the heating.
By Simon Curtisabout a year ago in Horror
In the blood.
When I was a young man I secured my first position with an old firm in Edinburgh. The MacDougall family had been one of the premier accountancy firms in Scotland for generations and my peers were grudging but clearly jealous in their congratulations on my appointment. I graduated in early July and Mr MacDougall insisted I take a month to rest before beginning my job in the second week of August.
By Simon Curtisabout a year ago in Fiction
Last Christmas
Stavely Hall had been empty since the early 2000s, it had most recently, years before that, endured a protracted renovation. There had been ambitious plans to create a luxury spa, but the works were bedevilled by accidents and contractors folding, to the point it was simply abandoned. This glorious home of 300 years was neglectfully left to collapse while TikTok ghost-hunters and urban explorers gloated at its sorry decline. Denny-Z was no exception. He needed Christmas content, and Stavely’s tragic tale of the wronged housemaid was perfect.
By Simon Curtisabout a year ago in Horror
The Taggy Man
Life changed when we lost our father. Mum did everything she could to keep things as stable as possible, we stayed in the same house and kept our schools and most importantly our friends. She worked so hard to make that happen, too hard at times and as children neither Ioan or I fully appreciated what she was doing. All we saw is that we spent more and more time at Nan’s and less with her.
By Simon Curtisabout a year ago in Families
Tessa’s Tour
There was only one rule: Don’t open the door. Dr. Bannister, Tessa’s hypnotherapist, had been unequivocal about this, but Tessa never understood why. Today, Dr. Peyton, a younger and more relaxed replacement, was filling in. He eased her into the session with casual chitchat about holidays and family, barely skimming through Dr. Bannister’s detailed notes.
By Simon Curtisabout a year ago in Horror
Again
The sea lapped against the side of the small rubber life raft. The salty spray slapped across his face waking him up again. He had no idea how long he had been at sea, he didn’t know how he had ended up in the life raft, but he was here and he had been drifting in and out of consciousness. He had stopped looking over the side of his boat as the empty horizon had almost pushed him towards madness. He lay looking straight up at the blue sky, there wasn’t even a cloud to keep him company. In his moments of clarity he knew it was just waiting for the slow death of dehydration he was looking forward to.
By Simon Curtisabout a year ago in Fiction
La Caja Fantasma
I don’t remember much about it. I was told when people felt I was old enough to hear the story. It was weeks from my second birthday, my parents were taking me on a bus from our home to visit my grandparents. The route took us through some of the most treacherous roads in the world. On one side cliff faces prone to rockfalls, the other vertical drops into the jungle. It was night and the driver hit a rock. The bus left the road and fell hundreds of feet into the deepest, darkest part of the jungle. The crash killed 43 passengers and the driver. There was only one survivor. It took three days for them to find us. All of this I have been told, none of it I can remember.
By Simon Curtisabout a year ago in Fiction
Hunt the Darkness . Top Story - July 2024.
The sky oozed blood red as the sun dropped below the lonely forest and the moon crept upwards. The day was gone and the darkness settled across the empty hamlet. Here was where he had been brought to remove, the great shadow that hung so malevolently over the whole area. Clymold the monster slayer had been called on by the town elders to free the people from the clutches of the creature.
By Simon Curtisabout a year ago in Horror
