The Writer's Twist - John Pallister (best fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

The Writers Twist

CHAPTER 1

Cold and damp Frank trudged through the long wet grass pulling his coat over his body gripping onto a black leather suitcase angry and frustrated at the latest happening, He stopped suddenly and erratically as the addiction had suddenly hit him hard in the face. Lighting up he took several long drags followed by a few light puffs. He was still miles away from his destination and the gruesome weather felt like freezing his skin, His tall frame silhouetted against the horizon occasionally disappearing from view from the oncoming cars. Stepping up his pace he knew he had to reach the pub, there waiting for him would be his usual pint and double whiskey. He cursed himself for being out in this downpour. Half an hour seemed like 10 hours as he stumbled through the door tripping over a parked bike which propped open the door. Scanning around for a couple of seconds he managed to locate Gill. Her pretty face was wet and her mascara had dripped.
“What took you so long? She asked rather annoyed.
“I got here as quickly as possible” he snapped.
Gill’s petit body hardly filled the chair unlike Frank’s whose legs were stretching across the floor. Gill brought his pint and whiskey over, staring eagerly into his eyes wondering if he was fantasying about her. Her long blonde hair got in front of her eyes so she tiredly flicked them away.
“254 pages of sheer brilliance.”
He opened the suitcase and pulled out the manuscript showing her.
She snatched it off him scanning through the pages.
“You always come up with the best ideas.” She said.
She smiled her lips were sweet just like her figure and Frank had hoped she would be taking some of her clothes off later. No such bloody luck, she was tired. She was always tired. He should be the one who was tired he was up all night writing that bloody story. Sometimes he wondered why; the only person who would ever read it would be Gill and even then she only read it because she had to.
Gill stared at the bar there was that man again, the man with the suit. He gave a quick smile but it was sinister and he soon turned away when he saw Frank.
“Who’s that?” Frank asked.
“I don’t know he offered me a drink which I declined.”
“You should have said yes” Frank joked.
Gill gave him a filthy look.
“Want a lift?” Gill suggested
“Yeah sure I don’t fancy a struggle through the monsoon.”
Frank picked up the manuscript and put it back in the suitcase to which she picked up. They left through the side exit ignoring the man in suit.
“What you doing next Sunday?” Frank asked.
“Nothing planned.”
“Good then you can come out for a meal my treat.”
“Okay.”
The happy couple didn’t see the man in the suit behind them in his cavalier.
The journey would have taken him 40 minutes but only 10 in the car.
Gill was about 5’2 ft. big chest and long straight hair. Frank had always wondered what she saw in him but didn’t complain too much; she liked his wit and the stories he wrote. His stories were good but it was getting harder to write anything original these days. He remembered reading the Shrine by James Herbert that was almost original as they get. The fog had been a bit better but he couldn’t remember much of it.
“Radio?”
“Yeah go on then.”
Gill flicked the switch looking into the wing mirror.
“I think we’re being followed.”
“What; Who by?”
“The man in the suit.”
“Don’t be stupid, turn down this street it’s a dead end if he’s following we’ll know.”
“Okay.”
Gill swerved the car suddenly and noticed the other car speed on by. He was rather scary his smile had sent shivers down her spine.
They arrived at Frank’s house.
“Coming in?”
“Nah better not”
Frank pecked her on the cheek then opened the car door he put the key into the door and collapsed in his bed. He had work tomorrow well it was tomorrow 12:05 he had to get up at 7:00. The whiskey had hit him he was rather pissed despite having nothing else to drink. It must be his tiredness. Just as he was drifting off there was a knock at the door.
“Who the bloody hell was that?”
He ignored it but it happened again. He threw some trousers on and shouted
“Coming.”
He opened it.
“Hello”
It was the man in the black suit.
“Who are you and what do you want?” Frank demanded.
The man was silent for a while then laughed hideously.
“Your time is up Frank pretty soon you’ll realise how to write a brilliant novel.”
“How do you know my name and what do you mean my time is up?”
“Check your watch.”
Frank checked his watch it said 7:00 he blinked and noticed that the man was gone. What just happened was that a dream? It was a bloody quick dream. He threw on his work clothes with a nasty taste still in his mouth.
“**** it” he thought. He’d phone in sick. He picked up the phone and dialled up the number. After a lot of hassle he lied back on the bed catching up on his sleep.
There was a knock on the door.
“Not again” he thought.
He opened the door
“Now look her…”
It was Gill
“Hi are you okay?”
“Yes I’m fine”
“You sounded awful on the phone last night you weren’t making much sense.”
“Sorry I was asleep.”
“Don’t play stupid you rang me up at 12:06 telling me about a new idea for a story, you said you were making notes.”
Frank put his hand under the bed; this is where he kept his notes. The title of the book was “What you can do in 7 hours”
“I never wrote that.”
“Sure, it’s your handwriting.”
“It’s over 100 pages long, that’s impossible to write that much in that space of time.”
“You’re freaking me out Frank.”
“I remember the bloke in the suit he came to my door and told me my time was up.”
“You must have been dreaming.”
“Anyhow I came over to see you.”
“How did you know I was here? I’m supposed to be at work.”
“I thought you’d call in sick, here let me in the bed.”
She removed her shoes and cuddled up to Frank letting his hand caress her breast. They made mad passionate love for hours just what Frank had wanted last night.
Several hours later.
“Wanna go for a walk?”
“Okay.”
The two put on their shoes. Frank locked up it was a better day warm but the clouds looked black ready for another downpour. Frank put out his hand. Gill gripped onto it smiling.
“So what did I say on the phone, I can’t remember?”
“Oh you just said you had a brilliant story”
“I’ve already written one, it takes me months even a year to write a story”
They decided to change the subject. The fresh air was doing them good. They arrived at the symmetry it was peaceful here despite being full of dead people. They would look at the graves and wonder what the person would have been like to know. Frank used this idea to create characters. He had ideas about the suited man he had met. Who was he and what had that strange dream meant even if it was a dream.
“Let’s go for a coffee.”
**********************************************************************************
“Damn it not again.”
The coffee fell off the chair and scolded the teenager’s arm. He got up and ran it under the cold tap.
Dominic was 17 spotty and full of male ego. It was college today his creative writing course, but like usual he was late. He put his Shoes on and reached for his coat and ran out the door nearly forgetting to lock it. There was a short cut through the symmetry so he hurdled the small fence tripping and cutting his leg.
“Are you ok?” A voice said
“Yes thanks, thanks anyway.”
Frank and Gill checked his leg. There was a big gash.
“Hey you’re Frank Damper.”
“How do you know that?”
“I read your stuff on the internet site I like your style.”
“Cheers”
“Where are you going?”
“College.”
“We can give you a lift.”
“Thanks”
The three got into the car and Dominic introduced himself.
“I write romantic comedies.” He said.
“But they are not very good.”
“When you bringing out your first novel?”
“Don’t know yet” Frank replied.
“That ‘what you can do in 7 hours’ is good”
“WHAT?”
“Your latest novel you know the one about the evil creature who eats his victims”
“Are you okay Frank?”
Frank started shaking and then reached for the window. He had gone white.
Gill slammed on the breaks.
“Go away” He was screaming.
“Talk to me Frank what’s going on?”
“I don’t know I felt faint and voices terrible voices.”
“Are they gone?”
“Yeah”
“Look I’ll make to college from here, you get Frank home.”


CHAPTER 2


Dominic stared into space he had just met possibly the most creative man on the planet and in the story he had read the victims would often complain of voices and turned pale white. Perhaps he had an illness and turned it into a story. Authors often based stories on themselves or brought characters to have similar likeness.
“Dominic wake up”
The lecturer looked at him sternly,
“Now would you like to read your piece?”
“Okay.”
“Well basically I met Frank Damper an unknown but talented author and I’ve decided to build a character description of him.”
“Okay but you’re supposed to write about a fictional character.”
The class ended and Dominic went to chat to Laura. Laura was the pretty one who for some reason had a strange attraction towards him.
“I brought his latest book what you can do in 7 hours; do you want to borrow it?”
“I’d rather read something you’ve done.”
“I know but this is good.”
She took the typed up paper then pecked Dom on the cheek.
“See you next week.”
Dom smiled that story was brilliant it had taken him all night to read it.


“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes where’s that book I supposedly wrote.”
“It’s here.”
Frank began to read it, as Gill made a cup of tea.
“Good isn’t it?”
“Yes it’s awesome sick but intriguing, when did you read it?”
“When you were asleep earlier I only read about 20 pages.”
Gill left and Frank picked up the paper turning the pages he read through the local news. It was then he was shocked to see an article about the sudden death of a man who died of a heart attack. It was Paul Simmonds the local vicar. He turned to his manuscript and read.
Tom heard voices in his head telling him to kill the vicar. He picked up the axe and moved towards the church, but it was too late, the vicar was coming out the doorway clutching a cross.
“God forgive me, God cure you” he screamed.
Tom dropped the axe and prayed; the vicar looked into Tom’s eyes and without warning collapsed.”
It could be pure coincidence but it said in the paper that Tom Faires had been close to the vicar and said that he felt strange and turned a pale white and that the vicar had tried to help him but the strain was too much on his heart.
Frank wondered if it was some bad nightmare when the