By Simon Clark
Video scriptwriter Richard younger is calling ahead to per week at domestic together with his spouse and their little daughter. He thinks it's going to be a delightful time of barbecues and lazy summer time days. It isn't. it will be hell.
Because the stranger who arrives at their domestic, begging to be pushed to the closest police station, is being hunted. Hunted through anything that can't be obvious, can't be heard—yet which has the facility to maneuver around the land crushing flat every thing in its course. Stalking and killing remorselessly.
Within mins, Richard younger, his relatives and the stranger (who isn't the blameless sufferer he turns out) are being pursued relentlessly via a malignant occult strength that kilos and pulps its sufferers just like the Hammer of God itself...Darker, first released in 1996, is one other gripping horror from Simon Clark.
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Additional info for Darker
Ja, no doubt you did,” he replied; then, becoming less irritable as he cooled off, “if you promise not to run away this afternoon, perhaps I will sneak you into the Hall this evening. ” he ended sharply. I think I had taken the Doctor's measure by now; I thought him something of a child, so answered calmly that I supposed he would take care to avoid any unpleasant consequences to himself, and as for myself I was prepared to take the risk. On that understanding we carried on along our road. He began to talk again after a while, in his usual airy, conceited vein, but now I could not resist the temptation to deflate him by remarking that for all his superior contempt for mere sportsmen and hunt servants he must allow that they must have some skill—not to mention nerve—that he lacked if they handled dogs like the boar-hounds we had seen a while ago.
Two of them used to bring in the dishes from the kitchen to the Doctor's dining-room and then stand by the sideboard while two maids took over and served us at table. They were always naked to the waist, so that I could observe their well-fed, sleek bodies; the livery trousers they wore of green or brown stuff were so tight as to mould their haunches and legs; they all looked as if they were running to fat, and were only kept in condition by a lot of hard work, though none of them seemed above twenty-two or so.
It seemed likely enough that wild-cats might be fairly common vermin in a great forest like Hackelnberg. One other thing I noticed: The fair-haired youth had been standing at a long broad table in the middle of the room, doing something with some gear among the litter of the things that strewed it. He laid down the object he had been working on as he moved a little aside to talk to the Doctor; it was some small piece of metal apparatus and he had been working on it with a file. Edging a little closer, I saw that it was a queer-looking arrangement of steel hooks, arranged like fingers of a hand, and just about the size of my hand, or a bit less.