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    The Girl in the Wood: A Ghost's Story: Off-Kilter Tales, #1
    The Girl in the Wood: A Ghost's Story: Off-Kilter Tales, #1
    The Girl in the Wood: A Ghost's Story: Off-Kilter Tales, #1
    Ebook82 pages1 hourOff-Kilter Tales

    The Girl in the Wood: A Ghost's Story: Off-Kilter Tales, #1

    By Michael Robertson

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    About this ebook

    Would you stop if you saw a little girl wandering through the woods at night?

    Andy did.

    He's now dead.

    This is Andy's story.

    The Girl in the Woods - A Ghost's Story is the first in a collection of Off-Kilter Tales. It's a short story about a man in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or the right place at the right time. You decide.

    What the reviewers are saying:

    5 stars - "I read it straight through and couldn't put it down." 

    5 stars - "It keeps you reading until you go … wow!" 

    5 stars - "A brilliant story that takes all of your senses through a horrific experience." 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMichael Robertson
    Release dateDec 2, 2019
    ISBN9781393208938
    The Girl in the Wood: A Ghost's Story: Off-Kilter Tales, #1

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      Book preview

      The Girl in the Wood - Michael Robertson

      The Girl in the Woods

      THE GIRL IN THE WOODS

      A GHOST’S STORY

      MICHAEL ROBERTSON

      CONTENTS

      Edited and Cover by …

      Reader Group

      Prologue

      Twenty-Four Hours Earlier

      Epilogue

      About the Author

      Also by Michael Robertson

      Email: subscribers@michaelrobertson.co.uk

      Edited by:

      Terri King - http://terri-king.wix.com/editing

      And

      Pauline Nolet - http://www.paulinenolet.com

      Cover Design by The Cover Collection

      The Girl in the Woods - A Ghost’s Story

      Michael Robertson

      © 2019 Michael Robertson

      The Girl in the Woods - A Ghost’s Story is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, situations, and all dialogue are entirely a product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously and are not in any way representative of real people, places or things.

      Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved

      No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      READER GROUP

      Would you like a FREE exclusive standalone novel set in my Beyond These Walls universe?

      Fury: Book one in Tales from Beyond These Walls is available to everyone who joins my spam-free reader group HERE

      You can unsubscribe at any time.

      https://michaelrobertson.aweb.page/p/dc745661-2374-4b0a-a193-1ef6c3fa0bf7

      PROLOGUE

      Bart had offered to drive, but Liz preferred him in the passenger seat, focusing. Doing his job. She’d given him control of her car once. Never again. Maybe they were already there and she hadn’t noticed, but the morning after, she’d discovered several more grey hairs.

      Useless as a driver, Bart was a great help otherwise. The kid showed initiative and, most importantly, he had the gift. If he worked hard on his personal development, he’d become a truly great medium.

      For a lot of the journey, Bart closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. When he straightened up, Liz eased off the gas. The way of his gift, Bart thrust an arm across her, pointing at a secluded driveway on the right. In there.

      "There? Are you sure?" The track looked like a bridleway.

      Stop testing me, Liz. You already know where we’re going. I got it right, didn’t I?

      This is certainly the right area, but are you sure that’s the best route?

      Yep. They said it was an abandoned building, didn’t they?

      Bathed in shadows, the small road would even have appeared hostile in broad daylight. Liz shook her head. She flinched when Bart laid his hand against the top of her left arm. It’s okay to be scared of the dark, you know.

      But I’m a medium!

      A medium who’s been briefed about what we’re heading in to. There’s things much scarier than ghosts out there.

      Liz sighed, indicated, and then guided the car into the narrow turn.

      The tyres crunched and popped as they trundled over what had once been an asphalt driveway. Years of neglect had turned it in to a crumbling mess of small black rocks. The large pool of white from the car’s headlights showed the tufts of grass stubble pushing through the cracks. Long branches leaned over them, the canopy forming a natural tunnel and turning the already dark night darker.

      The muscles in Liz’s right leg tensed, but she fought the urge to accelerate and kept the car moving at around ten miles per hour. No plans on slowing down, but any faster and she might do permanent damage to her vehicle. An inky blackness on either side because of the thick woodland, she stared straight ahead. It’s been a long time since this driveway saw regular use.

      They might be less than useless most of the time, Bart said, leaning forwards as if it would help him see better, but at least the police have been down here before us.

      "If you’ve guided us to the right place, and if they came in this way."

      A few seconds later they emerged from the dark woodland tunnel. Liz gasped and pulled her foot off the gas, slowing them to a crawl.

      Are you okay? Bart said.

      And I thought the driveway was bad. How did we not see this building from the road? An old institution made from crumbling red brick, it looked like it might have once been a school, a hospital, or …

      It used to be an asylum, Bart said. The glow of a screen lit up next to her, and Bart read from it. It’s been abandoned for— he paused, his mouth playing out the mental arithmetic —thirty-eight years.

      Longer than I’ve been alive, Liz said.

      Is it?

      "I’m not that old."

      I’m sorry, when people get over thirty, I can’t tell anymore.

      Liz stabbed the brake, sending Bart lurching forwards. Next time you say something like that, I’ll bury your teeth in the dashboard. Back to a slow crawl, she leaned forward to look up at the tall building, the moon running a silver highlight across the crumbling ruins.

      Four police cars sat in front of the grim institution. They were all turned sideways, their spotlights angled at the building. While illuminating some parts of it, the shadows by

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