What do you think?
Seven Strange Stories
In this new collection of seven stories, Rebecca Lloyd explores the power of the Gothic, superstition and the strange.
‘The Monster Orgorp’, set in the eighteenth century, questions who might be the real monster. ‘Little Black Eyes and Tiny Hands’ examines the repercussions on generations of Sicilians of the arrival in their village of an infamous Englishman. In ‘Christy’, the line between madness and the supernatural is blurred. ‘The Pantun Burden’ looks at whether ghosts are ‘real’, given that they exist in our own imaginations. ‘Again’ investigates the psychological effects on a man who commits an unusual murder. In ‘Where’s the Harm’, two brothers are in conflict over the all-female inhabitants of a house hidden in a wood. ‘Jack Werrett, the Flood Man’ follows a woman who visits the wilds of Norfolk and comes to understand the fears of her landladies.
Seven Strange Stories confirms Rebecca Lloyd in her position as one of the most talented contemporary British writers of literary horror and supernatural fiction.
‘The Monster Orgorp’, set in the eighteenth century, questions who might be the real monster. ‘Little Black Eyes and Tiny Hands’ examines the repercussions on generations of Sicilians of the arrival in their village of an infamous Englishman. In ‘Christy’, the line between madness and the supernatural is blurred. ‘The Pantun Burden’ looks at whether ghosts are ‘real’, given that they exist in our own imaginations. ‘Again’ investigates the psychological effects on a man who commits an unusual murder. In ‘Where’s the Harm’, two brothers are in conflict over the all-female inhabitants of a house hidden in a wood. ‘Jack Werrett, the Flood Man’ follows a woman who visits the wilds of Norfolk and comes to understand the fears of her landladies.
Seven Strange Stories confirms Rebecca Lloyd in her position as one of the most talented contemporary British writers of literary horror and supernatural fiction.
245 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 21, 2017
About the author
Rebecca Lloyd
41 books44 followersFor the most part I write short stories, and while many of them were first published in literary journals, in 2014, I had two collections of my stories published at the same time, Mercy with Tartarus Press, which is a beautifully made hardback book, and The View from Endless Street, a paperback published by WiDo.
Some of my stories could be described as psychological horror and others as magic realism, and from time to time I write about ghostly things. What interests me most is the inventive ways we deal with what life throws at us, and the ability many of us have to slip easily between our invented worlds and the shared world, as if travelling back and forth down a long worn path.
Some of my stories could be described as psychological horror and others as magic realism, and from time to time I write about ghostly things. What interests me most is the inventive ways we deal with what life throws at us, and the ability many of us have to slip easily between our invented worlds and the shared world, as if travelling back and forth down a long worn path.
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
October 29, 2021
I have previously read a few of Rebecca Lloyds books (her volume for Egeaus and the excellent, ‘The Child Cephalina’, the latter also on Tartarus) so was looking forward to dipping into her back catalogue.
This book was published just prior to ‘…Cephalina’ and the opening tale seems to be limbering up for that novel in that it appears to be set around the early 19th century and has a number of Gothic trappings. If you like the idea of forbidden rooms, dissolute and potentially violent family members and, possibly supernatural events, , you will certainly enjoy this. It is a bit as if Le Fanu wrote in a more ‘modern’ style’ and was a touch more sympathetic to his characters. Lloyds are well-drawn, especially that of the main protagonist, a new servant girl whose job it becomes to engage with all the above elements. It has a good gloomy enclosed atmosphere about it and makes for a strong start which is fortunate as it is the longest story in the book.
‘Jack Werrett, The Flood Man’ is also somewhat claustrophobic, it being a haunted house story located in the marshlands of, one assumes, Essex. I have always enjoyed tales of these interstitial spaces (such as Elizabeth Jane Howard’s ‘Three Miles Up’) which have a hint of timelessness about them in the way that the general countryside (felled, farmed, managed) doesn’t. For the romantics (or fearful) amongst us, there is always the thought of the interstitial ‘cunning man’ epitomized by the real-life George Pickersgill. Jack Werrett seems to have something of the Pickersgill about him and, as we know, water will find a way…
The rural theme continues in the following two tales, in ’The Pantun Burden’, Eric Pantun is a shunned ’innocent’ who is scarcely able to articulate to the narrator what happens when he begins work at a local chicken farm while ‘Christy’ is a far more brutal tale set in what I assume to be a backwater of somewhere like Georgia or Arkansas. I liked the former, but felt it could have been a little more extended with perhaps more background to the inhabitants whereas Christy is a bit more than bleak enough for me- perhaps a bit too close to what might really be going on ‘out there' for my liking.
‘Again’ is a very different beastie, where the horrors are more speculative than literal- possibly. It concerns a sudden appearance at a party of, shall we say, ‘the guest of honour’. Read the tale and my phrase is perfectly clear!
‘Little Black Eyes and Tiny Hands’ is a tale concerning Aleister Crowley. I have a very long-standing interest in Crowley and his followers and normally when he appears in a modern tale I roll my eyes in despair (you know who you are Mr J. A.!). After all, ‘The Beast’ carries a lot of baggage with him. This story deals with that baggage and concerns itself with the occupants of the houses around Crowley’s ‘Abbey’ at Cefalu long after the Crowley's departure. This is an interesting tack, suppose for instance you are the milkman just delivering to Boleskine House after the Abramelin ritual or the landlord in New York clearing the place up after Crowley had departed there, probably for non-payment of rent. What, if anything, might you experience, and how long might the residue of Crowley remain? When someone makes (as they surely will!) a Crowley inspired anthology, will hopefully be regarded as one of the best of them. I liked this a lot.
I liked the final tale even more. This also concerns itself with a cult (of sorts) and seemingly draws elements from a number of the previous tales, isolated rural ‘goings on’, and something akin to witchcraft. It is ‘folk-horror’ but more considered and sophisticated in style than many of the tales I’ve read in the genre.
All of these stories have a good sense of place. Not in the numinous/mystical sense of say Machen or Peter Bell, but ‘solid’/ grounded. This basis allows Lloyd to create the structure of her tale which, when re-reading them, one realizes is done very skillfully. There is something of a M.R. James feel to them in this respect but Lloyd's denouements are less visceral.
I tend to prefer short stories over novels but it was interesting for me that my favourite tales tended to be the longer ones. Perhaps having read ‘The Child Cephalina’ first, pre-disposed me to them. I also have a copy of her debut collection ’Mercy’ on my ’to read’ pile. I am looking forward to tucking into that very soon…
This book was published just prior to ‘…Cephalina’ and the opening tale seems to be limbering up for that novel in that it appears to be set around the early 19th century and has a number of Gothic trappings. If you like the idea of forbidden rooms, dissolute and potentially violent family members and, possibly supernatural events, , you will certainly enjoy this. It is a bit as if Le Fanu wrote in a more ‘modern’ style’ and was a touch more sympathetic to his characters. Lloyds are well-drawn, especially that of the main protagonist, a new servant girl whose job it becomes to engage with all the above elements. It has a good gloomy enclosed atmosphere about it and makes for a strong start which is fortunate as it is the longest story in the book.
‘Jack Werrett, The Flood Man’ is also somewhat claustrophobic, it being a haunted house story located in the marshlands of, one assumes, Essex. I have always enjoyed tales of these interstitial spaces (such as Elizabeth Jane Howard’s ‘Three Miles Up’) which have a hint of timelessness about them in the way that the general countryside (felled, farmed, managed) doesn’t. For the romantics (or fearful) amongst us, there is always the thought of the interstitial ‘cunning man’ epitomized by the real-life George Pickersgill. Jack Werrett seems to have something of the Pickersgill about him and, as we know, water will find a way…
The rural theme continues in the following two tales, in ’The Pantun Burden’, Eric Pantun is a shunned ’innocent’ who is scarcely able to articulate to the narrator what happens when he begins work at a local chicken farm while ‘Christy’ is a far more brutal tale set in what I assume to be a backwater of somewhere like Georgia or Arkansas. I liked the former, but felt it could have been a little more extended with perhaps more background to the inhabitants whereas Christy is a bit more than bleak enough for me- perhaps a bit too close to what might really be going on ‘out there' for my liking.
‘Again’ is a very different beastie, where the horrors are more speculative than literal- possibly. It concerns a sudden appearance at a party of, shall we say, ‘the guest of honour’. Read the tale and my phrase is perfectly clear!
‘Little Black Eyes and Tiny Hands’ is a tale concerning Aleister Crowley. I have a very long-standing interest in Crowley and his followers and normally when he appears in a modern tale I roll my eyes in despair (you know who you are Mr J. A.!). After all, ‘The Beast’ carries a lot of baggage with him. This story deals with that baggage and concerns itself with the occupants of the houses around Crowley’s ‘Abbey’ at Cefalu long after the Crowley's departure. This is an interesting tack, suppose for instance you are the milkman just delivering to Boleskine House after the Abramelin ritual or the landlord in New York clearing the place up after Crowley had departed there, probably for non-payment of rent. What, if anything, might you experience, and how long might the residue of Crowley remain? When someone makes (as they surely will!) a Crowley inspired anthology, will hopefully be regarded as one of the best of them. I liked this a lot.
I liked the final tale even more. This also concerns itself with a cult (of sorts) and seemingly draws elements from a number of the previous tales, isolated rural ‘goings on’, and something akin to witchcraft. It is ‘folk-horror’ but more considered and sophisticated in style than many of the tales I’ve read in the genre.
All of these stories have a good sense of place. Not in the numinous/mystical sense of say Machen or Peter Bell, but ‘solid’/ grounded. This basis allows Lloyd to create the structure of her tale which, when re-reading them, one realizes is done very skillfully. There is something of a M.R. James feel to them in this respect but Lloyd's denouements are less visceral.
I tend to prefer short stories over novels but it was interesting for me that my favourite tales tended to be the longer ones. Perhaps having read ‘The Child Cephalina’ first, pre-disposed me to them. I also have a copy of her debut collection ’Mercy’ on my ’to read’ pile. I am looking forward to tucking into that very soon…
March 16, 2021
March Review #1: Seven Strange Stories by Rebecca Lloyd
I knew of Rebecca Lloyd through Adam Nevill's recommendation in his newsletter.
1. The Monster Orgorp
Naïve country girl Caroline Wilson has just been promoted the new scullery maid of The Lady Mallet of Hogsmoor Estate. When she's not preparing various arcane concoctions for Lady Mallet, she avoids Lord Mallet, the Lady's perverted husband. Things take a worse turn when Caroline witnesses the arrival of "The thing," a mysterious shrouded figure fleetingly glimpsed at night. To escape the jealousy directed at her by the staff, she makes stories about the thing, calling it "Orgorp." Caroline also puts out the theory that Lady Millet may be a witch and Orgorp is her familiar. But an incident will soon make Caroline know Orgorp more intimately, whether she likes it or not.
The theme of the story is that real monsters are not who you think they are. And that might be boring to the jaded horror reader. But Lloyd's writing is immersive as it is informative (I love, for example, how she uses the archaic use of the word "punks"). And while the horror elements are unhurried, they are always lurking omnipresent in the background. For your pleasure, there are elements of black magic, monstrous creatures, and the ever-present threat of rape. Also, don't let my perception of the theme deter you from enjoying that horrific ending.
2. Jack Werrett, the Flood Man
A female academic ("Dr. Wood") is doing her research at an old Georgian house near the Norfolk marshes. But her brainy ennui is cut-off when her landladies, the Werrett sisters, come and announce that they want to live with her. She finds it strange but doesn't think much about it. She encounters something stranger—and more horrifying—than the childish and bizarre antics of the sisters: eerily sentient water. She learns of Jack Werrett, a man with water-manipulation powers. She scoffs at it, being an unbeliever in the supernatural. But will that unbelief help her?
This marshland-set, haunted house, and rogue entity mashup is a great horror tale. Lloyd grips your attention from the start with the ominous appearance of the Werrett sisters, and you are constantly wondering what makes them behave the way they do. Also, this story is a full-blown supernatural tale, and for that to work, the supernatural threat must be terrifying. And it is: there is nothing scarier than an entity that wants to "play" with you before offing you.
3. Christy
An old mother reminisces about her youngest son, Earl, who went missing decades ago. Her assumed culprit: Earl's imaginary friend Christy. But is there more to the story than a child's fevered imagination? Could there be a more plausible—and sinister—reason behind Earl's disappearance?
Lloyd takes us back to the merry world of ambiguous horror for this outing. She also mixes in themes concerning time and how it messes up with one's perception of the truth. Does it work? It does work, although the narration done by the mother was suspiciously deceiving, mitigating the threat of the imaginary friend.
4. The Pantun Burden
Virginia Pantun and her son Eric have come to ask for Miss Barker's help; Virginia thinks there is something that caused the many bite marks on her son's arm, and that cause might be related to the chicken coop her son works. Eric wants to work but is too scared because of the supposedly-monstrous attacker. Barker thinks the idea of a chicken monster is absurd, so she follows the mother and son to the chicken coop. Barker realizes that the whole set-up is likely a con and that the bite marks are probably human and self-inflicted. Eric gives a possible explanation, but Barker thinks it's another flight of fancy from both the socially-outcast mother and son. Is there such a monster?
The chill I got from the last line in the story is a testament to its effectiveness. How does one start the story so innocuously and end it with lingering dread? This story is a masterclass in that aspect. This story is a quiet horror masterpiece.
Appears in: BFS Journal #13
5. Again
"You want a smoke? You actually want to smoke?"
Richard is shocked to see a figure at the top of the stairs: their family friend, Diane. Diane doesn't know why she is in Richard's house and has no recollection of going there. But Richard immediately tries to lead her out of the house. You see, Richard and his friends are holding a wake: Diane's. But Richard's problem is more criminal than spectral, or is it?
I have mixed feelings about this story. I appreciate the idea behind it; it deals with something familiar (ghostly visitations) in an unexpected fashion (A lost and confused ghost? Probably a prank!). On the other hand, I do not appreciate the jokey, black comedy tone. Why? Because my reaction (or even yours) to the initial situation would be one of abject terror: try seeing someone who just died walking around alive. I guarantee you won't stop and have a chat.
6. Little Black Eyes and Tiny Hands
"He was evil, Ernesto, really evil, and until you have come across evil, you cannot possibly understand it."
Ten-year-old Ernesto Cavallero is fighting two fronts: he has to live up to expectations on bravery set by their grandfather while fending off the bullying from the other children. Soon, Ernesto will have a bigger problem: the decrepit structure in their community known as "The House of Ghosts." This house was the hideout of a notorious Englishman rumored to practice black magic. Despite the ominous warnings given by their grandfather about going to the house, Ernesto is fascinated by it. When a bully puts Ernesto inside the house, he soon learns from his grandfather the eerie history of its former inhabitants. But it may already be too late for Ernesto.
What fascinates me is the approach to the entity/evil / other in this story. It is usually active and goes after our protagonist aggressively; here, it lies and waits, biding its time that somebody would fall into its clutches. I find this approach more effective in giving that haunting feeling we love when reading dark fiction. In this story, Lloyd makes you feel there is something wrong lurking in the house, and the passage of time could not possibly have abated its tendency to corrupt.
The other thing I admire is the clash of two disparate worlds: the old-fashioned Sicilian lifestyle meets the worst elements of English degeneracy and hedonism. The result --in cinematic terms-- is like reading a cross between those Italian countryside dramas of the 70s with something like The Wailing (2016) or A Dark Song (2016).
Overall, this story masterfully combines a coming-of-age tale, folk horror, and small-town paranoia into a haunting novella that will stay with you long after.
7. Where's the Harm?
"No, come on, let's just take a quick look down there. Where's the harm?"
Estranged brothers Ross and Eddie have decided to renovate their old parents' house near the woods in the hopes of reselling it. While looking for suitable firewood, they encounter their old neighbor, Mr. Ratchetson. Ratchetson tells them where to get it, and he also tells them they will find a house nearby, and they should try their best to avoid it as quickly as possible. They get their firewood as well as the attention of the two sisters in the house. What should have been a chance encounter turns sinister, as Eddie seems to be enthralled and enchanted by one of the sisters and wants to live with them. Eddie then invites Ross to have dinner with his new "family." What can Ross do to save his brother?
A type of horror tale that gets under my skin is the one that shows the slow disintegration of family ties and bonds, be it due to supernatural or human evil. The horror of seeing loved ones change into someone (or something) alien and unknown is, I argue, even worse than having brutal confrontations with a monster. In this story, Lloyd uses the supernatural to weaken the already tenuous bond between the brothers, something that I also notice in the works of one of my favorite authors, Lisa Tuttle. But if there is still any doubt on the nature of the menace at hand, these doubts will disappear after reading the graphic and shocking ending. If you go to the woods today, avoid all mysterious houses, and you'll be safe!
Appears in: Best Horror of the Year: Volume Ten
I knew of Rebecca Lloyd through Adam Nevill's recommendation in his newsletter.
1. The Monster Orgorp
Naïve country girl Caroline Wilson has just been promoted the new scullery maid of The Lady Mallet of Hogsmoor Estate. When she's not preparing various arcane concoctions for Lady Mallet, she avoids Lord Mallet, the Lady's perverted husband. Things take a worse turn when Caroline witnesses the arrival of "The thing," a mysterious shrouded figure fleetingly glimpsed at night. To escape the jealousy directed at her by the staff, she makes stories about the thing, calling it "Orgorp." Caroline also puts out the theory that Lady Millet may be a witch and Orgorp is her familiar. But an incident will soon make Caroline know Orgorp more intimately, whether she likes it or not.
The theme of the story is that real monsters are not who you think they are. And that might be boring to the jaded horror reader. But Lloyd's writing is immersive as it is informative (I love, for example, how she uses the archaic use of the word "punks"). And while the horror elements are unhurried, they are always lurking omnipresent in the background. For your pleasure, there are elements of black magic, monstrous creatures, and the ever-present threat of rape. Also, don't let my perception of the theme deter you from enjoying that horrific ending.
2. Jack Werrett, the Flood Man
A female academic ("Dr. Wood") is doing her research at an old Georgian house near the Norfolk marshes. But her brainy ennui is cut-off when her landladies, the Werrett sisters, come and announce that they want to live with her. She finds it strange but doesn't think much about it. She encounters something stranger—and more horrifying—than the childish and bizarre antics of the sisters: eerily sentient water. She learns of Jack Werrett, a man with water-manipulation powers. She scoffs at it, being an unbeliever in the supernatural. But will that unbelief help her?
This marshland-set, haunted house, and rogue entity mashup is a great horror tale. Lloyd grips your attention from the start with the ominous appearance of the Werrett sisters, and you are constantly wondering what makes them behave the way they do. Also, this story is a full-blown supernatural tale, and for that to work, the supernatural threat must be terrifying. And it is: there is nothing scarier than an entity that wants to "play" with you before offing you.
3. Christy
An old mother reminisces about her youngest son, Earl, who went missing decades ago. Her assumed culprit: Earl's imaginary friend Christy. But is there more to the story than a child's fevered imagination? Could there be a more plausible—and sinister—reason behind Earl's disappearance?
Lloyd takes us back to the merry world of ambiguous horror for this outing. She also mixes in themes concerning time and how it messes up with one's perception of the truth. Does it work? It does work, although the narration done by the mother was suspiciously deceiving, mitigating the threat of the imaginary friend.
4. The Pantun Burden
Virginia Pantun and her son Eric have come to ask for Miss Barker's help; Virginia thinks there is something that caused the many bite marks on her son's arm, and that cause might be related to the chicken coop her son works. Eric wants to work but is too scared because of the supposedly-monstrous attacker. Barker thinks the idea of a chicken monster is absurd, so she follows the mother and son to the chicken coop. Barker realizes that the whole set-up is likely a con and that the bite marks are probably human and self-inflicted. Eric gives a possible explanation, but Barker thinks it's another flight of fancy from both the socially-outcast mother and son. Is there such a monster?
The chill I got from the last line in the story is a testament to its effectiveness. How does one start the story so innocuously and end it with lingering dread? This story is a masterclass in that aspect. This story is a quiet horror masterpiece.
Appears in: BFS Journal #13
5. Again
"You want a smoke? You actually want to smoke?"
Richard is shocked to see a figure at the top of the stairs: their family friend, Diane. Diane doesn't know why she is in Richard's house and has no recollection of going there. But Richard immediately tries to lead her out of the house. You see, Richard and his friends are holding a wake: Diane's. But Richard's problem is more criminal than spectral, or is it?
I have mixed feelings about this story. I appreciate the idea behind it; it deals with something familiar (ghostly visitations) in an unexpected fashion (A lost and confused ghost? Probably a prank!). On the other hand, I do not appreciate the jokey, black comedy tone. Why? Because my reaction (or even yours) to the initial situation would be one of abject terror: try seeing someone who just died walking around alive. I guarantee you won't stop and have a chat.
6. Little Black Eyes and Tiny Hands
"He was evil, Ernesto, really evil, and until you have come across evil, you cannot possibly understand it."
Ten-year-old Ernesto Cavallero is fighting two fronts: he has to live up to expectations on bravery set by their grandfather while fending off the bullying from the other children. Soon, Ernesto will have a bigger problem: the decrepit structure in their community known as "The House of Ghosts." This house was the hideout of a notorious Englishman rumored to practice black magic. Despite the ominous warnings given by their grandfather about going to the house, Ernesto is fascinated by it. When a bully puts Ernesto inside the house, he soon learns from his grandfather the eerie history of its former inhabitants. But it may already be too late for Ernesto.
What fascinates me is the approach to the entity/evil / other in this story. It is usually active and goes after our protagonist aggressively; here, it lies and waits, biding its time that somebody would fall into its clutches. I find this approach more effective in giving that haunting feeling we love when reading dark fiction. In this story, Lloyd makes you feel there is something wrong lurking in the house, and the passage of time could not possibly have abated its tendency to corrupt.
The other thing I admire is the clash of two disparate worlds: the old-fashioned Sicilian lifestyle meets the worst elements of English degeneracy and hedonism. The result --in cinematic terms-- is like reading a cross between those Italian countryside dramas of the 70s with something like The Wailing (2016) or A Dark Song (2016).
Overall, this story masterfully combines a coming-of-age tale, folk horror, and small-town paranoia into a haunting novella that will stay with you long after.
7. Where's the Harm?
"No, come on, let's just take a quick look down there. Where's the harm?"
Estranged brothers Ross and Eddie have decided to renovate their old parents' house near the woods in the hopes of reselling it. While looking for suitable firewood, they encounter their old neighbor, Mr. Ratchetson. Ratchetson tells them where to get it, and he also tells them they will find a house nearby, and they should try their best to avoid it as quickly as possible. They get their firewood as well as the attention of the two sisters in the house. What should have been a chance encounter turns sinister, as Eddie seems to be enthralled and enchanted by one of the sisters and wants to live with them. Eddie then invites Ross to have dinner with his new "family." What can Ross do to save his brother?
A type of horror tale that gets under my skin is the one that shows the slow disintegration of family ties and bonds, be it due to supernatural or human evil. The horror of seeing loved ones change into someone (or something) alien and unknown is, I argue, even worse than having brutal confrontations with a monster. In this story, Lloyd uses the supernatural to weaken the already tenuous bond between the brothers, something that I also notice in the works of one of my favorite authors, Lisa Tuttle. But if there is still any doubt on the nature of the menace at hand, these doubts will disappear after reading the graphic and shocking ending. If you go to the woods today, avoid all mysterious houses, and you'll be safe!
Appears in: Best Horror of the Year: Volume Ten
January 26, 2021
Could each of these seven women be representative of the seven stories? This book is often insidious, often admirably so. Contains some unforgettable classics of the “strange stories” genre. Someone on FB yesterday called my own fiction “peculiar”. I think that is the word. Intended as a compliment.
The detailed review of this book posted elsewhere under my name is too long or impractical to post here.
Above is one of its observations at the time of the review.
The detailed review of this book posted elsewhere under my name is too long or impractical to post here.
Above is one of its observations at the time of the review.
July 4, 2017
Another enjoyable collection of strange tales from Rebecca Lloyd. I feel that these are the kind of stories that need to be read and re-read. My favourites (on this first read atleast): 'Christy' and 'Where's the Harm?'
November 30, 2025
•The Monster Orgorp⭐⭐⭐⭐
•Jack Werrett, The Flood Man ⭐⭐⭐⭐
•Christy ⭐⭐⭐
•The Pantun Burden ⭐⭐
•Again ⭐⭐⭐
•Little Black Eyes and Tiny Hands ⭐⭐⭐
•Where's the Harm? ⭐⭐
•Jack Werrett, The Flood Man ⭐⭐⭐⭐
•Christy ⭐⭐⭐
•The Pantun Burden ⭐⭐
•Again ⭐⭐⭐
•Little Black Eyes and Tiny Hands ⭐⭐⭐
•Where's the Harm? ⭐⭐
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews