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    Black Masquerade: The Third Nightmare: Eight Nightmares, #3
    Black Masquerade: The Third Nightmare: Eight Nightmares, #3
    Black Masquerade: The Third Nightmare: Eight Nightmares, #3
    Ebook59 pages42 minutesEight Nightmares

    Black Masquerade: The Third Nightmare: Eight Nightmares, #3

    By Stuart Tudor

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    About this ebook

    There is an end to everything, even to peace and prosperity. 

     

    It's 1929 and Barbara's engagement party to Dennis is about to begin, filled with the promise of booze, good food and friends with her one true love. But another guest has arrived: a spectre of future horrors, of suffering and pain too terrible to imagine.

     

    As her friends get branded by terrible fates one by one, Barbara takes it upon herself to try to stop the guest.  On the most important night of her life, she is going to find out if the future is truly set in stone or if it can be changed. 

     

    Black Masquerade is the third entry in the Eight Nightmares Collection, a horror collection of stories about the dreamlike, the surreal, and encounters with the fantastical. Black Masquerade is rated R for references to The Great Depression, Holocaust, Gulag, London Bliz, the 1881 pogrom and the Desden Firestorm. There is also suicide, alcoholism, racism and homophobia. Reader discretion is advised. 

     

    The story is so visually and viscerally striking and took my emotions along for the ride.

    Black Masquerade is the foreshadowing of the unimaginable terrors of war. The lines between nightmare and reality are so wonderfully blurred and left me properly shaken. Well done. C. Malan: Goodreads

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStuart Tudor
    Release dateMay 2, 2023
    ISBN9798223344353
    Black Masquerade: The Third Nightmare: Eight Nightmares, #3
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    Author

    Stuart Tudor

    Stuart has been devouring stories since he was little, a habit cultivated by countless bedtime tales. It was during his high school days in 2015 when, after reading The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and playing Fromsoft's Bloodborne, he began to appreciate horror. He has always been creating his own stories, reflecting his fascination with the imaginary. This motivation to write would quickly lead him to explore dark themes and settings.  His love of writing and horror would produce the Eight Nightmares Collection: A collection of stories about the dreamlike, the surreal, and encounters with the fantastical. An entrepreneur at heart, he has embraced the self-publishing route- delivering horrifying tales that will scare and thrill people the world over.  When away from the word doc, Stuart is studying for his degree in English or working in managing properties and real estate. If he is not doing that, he is taking a breather with a good book like Berserk, playing Baldur's Gate 3 or watching the latest Scream movie.

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      Book preview

      Black Masquerade - Stuart Tudor

      The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

      The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

      The best lack all conviction, while the worst

      Are full of passionate intensity.

      (The Second Coming, William Butler Yeats 1920)

      1929

      Barbara gazed out of the Daimler window as it drove through the fog of London. The city ran past, a blur of brightly lit shops and pubs that overlooked mostly empty walkways, an occasional straggler flashing by like a human shadow in the drizzling fog. A shimmering jewel to British accomplishment, Barbara thought as she snuggled Dennis, her financé, sinking deeper into his arms.

      Dennis pulled her towards him, nuzzling her neck, and whispered, What’s on your mind, darlin’?

      Just thinking about London, sweetie, Barbara said, taking a deep, relaxed sip of air before falling further into Dennis.

      You English are so proud, he teased.

      Barbara kissed him on the cheek. And you Americans are completely humble, she retorted, poking him in the chest. They chuckled together.

      The Actons have done it. We will never have to be in the Whitechapel slums again. Mum and Dad can grow old in comfort thanks to our smarts. We are secure forever. A warm smile crossed Barbara’s face at the thought. I have made it.

      I have meant to visit Ronald and Alica’s house for years. I’m so excited to see it at last! Barbara said.

      The car skidded to a stop at a red traffic light. Dennis grabbed hold of Barbara, keeping her from flying into the back of the driver’s seat.

      Thanking him, Barbara leaned back and returned her gaze from the window. Her heart pounded in her chest; she could have died. Dennis tapped against the window, Be careful; you could have killed us! He sat back and hugged Barbara tightly. You okay, hon? He asked.

      Just a little shaken, she said, concentrating on the London roads.

      The shadow of Big Ben loomed out of the mist, a giant clock standing watch over the world.

      A group of men and women gathered on the sidewalk as they spilled out of a nearby pub, laughing and drinking.

      Big Ben began to chime, a deep, somber ring that rumbled through the city.

      On the first stroke, another person materialized from the shadows. They glided towards the rambunctious group, their black robes brushing against the pavement. The partygoers ignored him, her, or whatever it was.

      Queer fellow, wonder what he wants with them? Barbara thought, watching keenly with a sudden, unexpected sense of dread.

      A rigid arm appeared out of the robe in a single smooth motion, reaching with a claw-like hand towards the nearest man or woman.

      The robed person, while reaching out, locked eyes with her in a jagged movement of its head.

      A pale, gaunt face, almost inhuman in its black stare, quickly flashed before Barbara’s eyes. Barbara’s skin crawled as if a frigid wind had cut her.

      The car fled London for the outskirts, where Alica and Ronald resided. The warmth within Barbara evaporated, and she gasped heavy, strangled breaths.

      It must have been a police constable keeping the streets clear of drunkards. But that face, God forbid, be his true face. It had to have been a mask, indeed. Perhaps someone is hosting a gothic horror masquerade party nearby. So Barbara thought, trying to calm her breathing. She thought of the party, anything to keep her mind from thinking about that emotionless mask.

      Big Ben’s muffled chimes faded as the fog swallowed the tower.

      Barbara sank back into Dennis’ arms, shaking

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