Valentine King lives in constant fear of the hand beneath the bed, the eyes in the darkness at the back of the wardrobe and the slamming door upstairs when nobody else is home. He shares these tales of terror with you in the hope it will help you keep your own demons at bay even as his begin to rattle the windows, once more searching for a way in. Residing in a genuine haunted house, he spends his days clattering away on his typewriter and his nights praying that he'll survive until sunrise. One part Valentine Dyall, one part Stephen King, the author is grateful for your support and hopes you aren't afraid of the dark places he takes you. He highly recommends you do not read his stories before bedtime, not if you want a good night sleep afterwards anyway. His ideas come from whispered meetings at midnight, the insane ramblings of those around him and every word he writes is the truth, the horrifying, bloodcurdling truth. If you dare, you can visit valentineking.com to find out more...
Interests Listening to old school radio shows such as The Man in Black, The Shadow, Fear on Four, Dick Barton - Special Agent, The Goon Show and so on
Favorite Books The Saga of Darren Shan, It, Night Shift, Nightmares and Dreamscapes, Cell, Demonstealer
Favorite Authors Stephen King, Dickens, Darren Shan
Favorite Movies Horror of course, It, The Shining (miniseries)
Favorite TV Shows The Twilight Zone, The Outer Limits, Garth Marenghi's Darkplace, The X-Files
Favorite Music The ominous chords of Beethoven, soundtracks from films such as The Thin Red Line and Shawshank Redemption
The Flat Man can fit between your mattress and your bed base, waiting for you to fall asleep
“And that was when they realised it was the babysitter that had been killed. The murderer was wearing her clothes.” Kev sat back, triumphant. That was surely the story to beat them all. To his satisfaction most of the other kids round the campfire oohed and ahhed appreciatively. All apart from Mark. He just tutted and rolled his eyes as he had to all the other stories. In his hand he wielded his stick, poking the campfire...
What lurks behind the bricked up wall in E-Wing? There's only one way to find out.
“What’s in cell 119?” Albertson looked up at me for the first time since I’d sat down. I’d been building up the courage to ask about 119 for ten minutes, but his expression made me wish I’d kept my mouth shut. He leaned across the desk, examining me closely. I felt suddenly nervous, was I about to be fired before my probation period was even up? “What did you say James?” “It’s just, I was running over some of the blueprin...
A lonely old man orders a special doll for 'friendship' but the doll might not want him.
Barry hadn’t committed a crime for over twenty five years. Surely that was long enough to let things go, let the past swallow up his misdeeds? Enough time to move on. Standing by the front door, he held the handle in his clammy shaking fingers, gulping for air as his breakfast threatened to reappear on the stained carpet at his feet. When he’d woken up that morning, he’d been so sure he could do it, take that first step o...
