Tag: Horror

Hello Readers,

As an author, I understand it can be hard picking up a book by a writer you haven’t read before. But, because I’d love for you to give my writing a fair go, I created a series of posts that I like to call ‘The 10% Club’. This is the forth instalment presenting a snippet from the first story I published. Here is a taste of ‘Low Life’.

Low Life

by Allan Walsh

Callum sat trembling, on the end of a brown-tainted mattress. He was pale as a corpse. Deep shadows cast themselves across his drawn face as he fixed his eyes on the door of his dingy apartment. The room was illuminated only by the red neon light that flickered beyond the smoke-marred windows. He no longer noticed the walls with their torn and piss-stained, floral wall paper. His nostrils had grown accustomed to the scent of urine that lingered in the air. When he was alive it would have disgusted him. Zhu Li’s face filled his mind, her lips lifting softly at the edges as she smiled. Tears welled up as he remembered. She was the reason he’d moved to Chinatown. She’d tried to tell him the tales passed down from her parents, but he hadn’t believed the myths. Now he’d seen too much to ignore them. She’d tried to tell him, but he’d disregarded her warning. Now her mangled body lay lifeless in the corner of the room. Come on Callum, you can’t just sit here all fuckin’ night watching the door. They’ll come for you eventually and they’ll find you if you stay here. “Aaaaarrrghhhh,” a deep voice bellowed outside from the streets below. Callum jumped to his feet and ran for the door, almost pulling it from its frame as he flung it open. In his haste he stumbled into the hallway beyond, throwing his hand out against the grotty wall to catch his balance. The warmth from the scarred brickwork penetrated his cold hand before he tore off down the corridor. The fire door at the end of the hall yielded to his foot like bricks to a sledgehammer. He looked down the concrete stairwell. A blast of heat hit him squarely in the face, driving his head back. Shit, that leaves the roof. Callum spun around and scrambled up to the top level, almost falling through the shattered door as he exited. He slid to a halt, looking out upon the blackened sky, his stomach churning. It was like a war zone. Crumbling buildings scattered across the skyline, lit by the orange glow of fire. Plumes of dark smoke wafted up haphazardly in an anarchic display, so thick and black in places that they looked like great pillars holding up the sky. A strange feeling of déjà vu sent chills down his spine – he’d been here before. The smell of sulphur burnt his nostrils as he watched flakes of ash and smouldering embers float softly down around him. This can’t be happening again, this nightmare has got to end! “Oi, what the hell are you doing up here? You’re not meant to be on this level,” a voice growled. Callum’s head snapped to the side and his wide-eyed gaze froze upon an old man in red overalls.

If you enjoyed this sample of my writing, please share it with your friends.

Allan Walsh writes Fantasy and Horror. If you’re looking for something new to read in these genres, why not check out his books here. You can also find his titles available in some libraries.