Old Shock Page 3

He held out his hands in front of him, calmingly.

  The old woman's chanting became louder, and more shrill.

  “Robert...?” he managed.

  Then the lead in the old woman's grip was freed and Robert lurched crazily forward and was upon him, knocking Paul back in a blur of snarling and hair and arms and unwashed stench and surprising weight. Paul fell back against the carpet, knocking over the coffee table and sending magazines flying, too bewildered to think about defending himself even as his brother's teeth bit down into his Adam’s apple and wrenched away meat and splatter and cartilage. Paul could hear the old woman's babbling even as the crimson mist stung his eyes. Robert was back on him, biting down into his face.

  Paul eventually tried to scream, before realising he was simply choking on and gargling out his own blood. His hand, pinned uselessly beneath him, gripped onto the carpet. The carpet felt thick, comfortable.

  About the Author

  David Senior was born in West Yorkshire in 1981. He is a writer and photographer who currently lives in Norfolk, England. He runs the website 'EastScapes: The Abandoned, the Curious, and the Forgotten in East Anglia' at eastscapes.blogspot.com, a base for images and writings about East Anglian folklore, (psycho)geography, and forgotten histories.

  He is the author of The Sinners of Crowsmere and Agony Pages.