The Book of Frights Volume One is now available on Amazon.
You can check it out here: Book of Frights Volume One.
Mysterious McCrone
The Future of horror?
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ashleymanningwriter on Terror in the Woods
Mysterious McCrone is now going to post on this site. Seeing as though Mr. X never lived up to my expectations, I had to, let’s just say, let him go.
I wish to inform you that The Box of Frights is no more. The upcoming book has had a title change.
It is now called The Book of Frights Volume One. It will be released on Amazon sometime in February 2015.
I will keep you updated.
M.M.
A video to let you know what the masked author is good at….and that’s writing horror fiction.
Watch it here if you are brave enough!
Although it is now spring, it is still bone-chilling cold down here.
For you see, I am trying to get some much needed sleep but it is difficult, if not somewhat impossible. The basement floor is damp, hard and unforgiving. My sides, neck and back ache.
Sleep will not come. All that I can do is curl up into a fetal position and think. But I don’t want to think anymore! I only want to fall asleep so that I can momentarily be released from all of my pain and misery.
Sleep is far away.
And so, my mind plays out what will happen in only a matter of time. I will hear the clank of chains being released and then that horrible sound of the doorknob being turned. This will be followed by heavy footfalls on the half decayed basement steps.
Coming closer…
Looking up, my tormentor will be glaring down at me. It will now be time to leave these gloomy surroundings and go upstairs. A small room, furnished with only a computer and desk will await me. In this prison cell, lit only by candlelight, it will be up to me to promote a fiend who causes me nothing but fear.
Closing my eyes, they instinctively pop back open.
To my horror, sleep will not come.
Mr. X
And so here I am, sitting in front of a computer screen. It is now time for me to begin promoting the work of a monster. Although my bones ache and my neck is stiff, I did manage to get a little shut eye the past two nights. Even so, I still feel mighty drowsy. Regardless, I will do what is expected of me.
I would like to take this moment to state that I will be making posts to those of you on the outside world. I will be doing this behind Mysterious McCrone’s back. This may be a very dangerous thing for me to do but it must be done, for my own sanity.
With that being said, let me begin by explaining exactly how I became the unwilling subject to work for this mysterious and hooded author.
Are you ready?
Good.
Here is my story…
Mr. X
Up until the past two years, I lived a relatively average and normal life. I had a car, house and job. My employment was at a machine shop. Although it was not the best job in the world, it did pay the bills.
Unfortunately for me, I fell upon many financial hardships when my full time career became a part time affair due to a slow economy. Because of this, it was only a matter of time until I lost everything. First it was my car and then my house. Since I had lost contact with my family many years ago and the fact that I had no friends because I had always kept to myself, there was nobody to turn to for help. As a result of this I became homeless.
Let me tell you, two years of being homeless was pure hell. In the winter I was in and out of homeless shelters and in the summer I lived out on the streets.
My living quarters consisted of a small stretch of woods between two abandoned buildings. This is where I also slept every night. I also wish to mention here that sleeping in the darkened woods at night heightens one’s sense of awareness. No matter how much of a deep sleep you are in, the slightest noise will force you wide awake in a moment’s notice.
So, there I was, falling asleep on my tattered blanket when I abruptly opened my eyes to a snapping branch inches away from where I lay. My focus was blurry but I could still make out the blackened outline of a person towering above me. This darkened silhouette dropped to one knee while gazing down at me.
Heart pounding, I could not believe what my eyes were telling me. Rapidly blinking to clear my vision, I was correct in what I saw. This shadowy image of a man had absolutely no face! As the figure lowered his head closer to my very own I realized that there was some kind of a cloth concealing the intruder’s identity.
Before I could even blink, my eyes shifted to the strangers right arm as it raised in the air. A hatchet was clenched tightly in the man’s fist.
The instant that the sharpened blade came crashing down towards my head my mouth opened wide to scream.
To my dismay, no sound came out.
Mr. X
It has been said that your entire life will flash before your eyes when you know that you are going to die.
No such thing happened to me as the hatchet sunk into the earth inches away from my head. My eyes never blinked as this was all happening to me in what seemed like slow motion.
I could do nothing but stare as the hooded man released the wooden handle and left the weapon embedded in the soil. His free hand quickly disappeared into the front pocket of his pants.
This is the last vision that I remember before I lost consciousness.
Mr. X
When I finally came to, my head was foggy and I had no idea of how long I was out for. As my eyes slowly adjusted to my gloomy surroundings, I realized that I was in a damp and eerie basement.
At this exact moment, as if my captor knew that I had just woken up, I heard the echo of chains being released. This was followed by the high-pitched squeak of an opening door and then pounding footsteps coming down the stairs. The masked man was now coming towards me.
I must admit that I was relieved when I noticed that he no longer had the hatchet clutched in his hand. The weapon was now replaced with a pad of paper and a pen.
Sitting up with my back against the wall, the lunatic slowly made his way to where I was frozen in fear. He stopped two feet away from me and sat down Indian style. After staring into my face for what seemed like an eternity, he began to write on the pad of paper.
Mr. X
After a few minutes of writing, my host handed me the pad of paper. Reading what he had written, I found out that the masked man did indeed have a name. He called himself Mysterious McCrone and stated that he was an author of horror fiction. Reading on, I also learned that I was free to speak to him but all of his communication to me would be written down for me to read. The last paragraph was a question. It asked who I was and why I was sleeping in the woods.
I began explaining my situation while handing back the pad of paper. While speaking, a strange sensation came over me. I could remember everything about my life except my name and where I lived. As I finished my story, the paper was back in my hands. What I read next alarmed me to the point of a near panic attack.
Mr. X
Below is exactly what Mysterious McCrone had written for me to read.
You have been chosen to help me promote my work.
You, my friend, have two choices.
1) You can accept my invitation.
2) You can decline my invitation.
If you happen to refuse my offer, you will vanish from the face of the earth without a trace. Since you are homeless and have no family ties, nobody will ever know of your disappearance. You will be “X’d” from existence.
This was not a very hard decision for me to make. I accepted his bizarre offer and became known as Mr. X.
Mysterious McCrone 