Understated, classic chillers
A treasure chest replete with dark, wickedly enticing gems, Thirty Scary Tales is a collection of short thrillers set against a melange of backdrops from medieval fantasy to the modern-day, real-life scenarios we’ve all found ourselves nearly immersed in. The entwining theme though is the kind of chilling horror that shows more than it tells, and invests its readers like icy water: if you get through one of these stories without a shudder, you’re a braver reader than I am!
I can’t possibly do justice to all thirty stories here but among the most deliciously disturbing is ‘Beltrane’, a very short story of just under two pages, delivered with the stealth and efficiency of a dagger blade. Mave is a girl just matured to adulthood, sent on a seemingly harmless errand to buy apples from the village’s blind fruit vendor. But she is part of a sinister design, seemingly apparent to everyone in the village but her. I won’t give the ending away but once you see what’s coming, the story seems to gallop towards an inevitable conclusion that has you grinning and grimacing all at the same time. Like all of Rayne Hall’s stories, the writing draws you in to the world in which they are set, with the kind of imagery you want to jump into (or away from!) I found myself needing a drink of water after a desert scene, or closing the window after picking my way across dark railway sleepers on a wind-swept Welsh railway line.
Speaking of railways…if you’re claustrophobic, stay well away from ‘The Bridge Chamber’! This is one of the collection’s most terrifyingly gripping entries, and relates the story of three children who go exploring an old, dark tunnel, set into the hillside as part of a railway bridge. Think of a long chamber, dark as pitch, that gets ever narrower as you crawl further into the bowels of the earth, and then imagine getting somehow blocked into that tiny, cold, dank tunnel. In the author’s capable hands you’ll be delivered into their chilling world with terrible realism; I can still feel the moss-covered bricks and smell the damp stone now. I was put in mind of a caving venture where I actually did get stuck in one of the narrowest chambers, unable to go backwards or forwards. Thanks, Rayne, for bringing that memory back in such a chilling deluge…If you’ve ever had an experience like that, or if you fear enclosed spaces in any way, don’t read this story. You have been warned…
Almost all of the Thirty Scary Tales have the kind of irresistibly dark ending that leaves you at once chilled and satisfied, but for something engagingly touching, try the ghost story ‘Through the Tunnel.’ Allie is stranded in the rain-strewn Welsh countryside after a spat with her boyfriend. Miles from the nearest town, she tries the railway station, only to find a non-existent weekend service. She is left with the prospect of walking the wind-swept wet roads to the closest from of civilisation - ten miles away - or else hitchhiking the journey. But with not a single passing car in half an hour, she gives up. There is another option though…the railway tunnel, just beyond the station, will cut through the hills and in less than a mile bring her to a small village with a pub - and a public telephone. The tunnel is a risky prospect though, lightless and unsafe in the event that a passing train should come through while she’s in it. Moreover, she is approached at the station by a local, Steve, who counsels her against taking the treacherous short-cut. In spite of his warnings, Allie plunges into the dark mouth of the tunnel, if nothing else keen to get away from this mysterious stranger - who pursues her into the darkness. The ending, though, is not what you might expect.
At this point I want to say, ‘You’ll like Thirty Scary Tales if you like such and such’ or ‘If your literary fodder tends towards so and so, this is for you,’ but actually whatever your favoured genre, you’ll be gripped by this compilation. I devoured all thirty without encountering one that didn’t have me hooked, so compelling are they in their chilling engagement of those darkest fears. Some I could relate to personally, others I couldn’t, but all reached out for me with their long, gnarled fingers, and dragged me in…