An Adventure in Wootton: A Tale of Eldritch Terror

‘Tis strange that on the fifth of March 1766, though having enjoy’d London for little less than a month after my travels upon the Continent, I awoke with a curious resolution to see the North Country. Breakfasted alone and occupied myself with Mr. Walpole’s romance of ‘Otranto’ but could not shake the notion. Indeed, once… Continue reading An Adventure in Wootton: A Tale of Eldritch Terror


The Prospect From Eston

There was nothing underneath, he told himself – couldn’t be. It was his reason, his dumb, bull-headed reason, that kept him calm. Yet while he crouched there, motionless, watching the approaching darkness beneath those waters, he felt his flesh grow wet with perspiration and his knees incline towards buckling with a cowardice that he had never felt before – never in city alley, country road, the quiet of solitude or the loneliness of a crowd...