Samuel Blondahl's Halloween Horror serial: La Saveur de la Vie.

A ghost threw a bit of glass at me today. Allow me to elaborate. A while ago I was asked to join an amateur paranormal investigation group in a ghost hunt at a local museum. I spent the night there with them and took readings, talked to 'ghosts' and did the whole bit with enthusiasm. There was no real evidence, but It was appropriately creepy at points and the wind knocked things around once or twice, which was a nice touch. I spent the next couple weeks doing independent research, the paranormal group was not following up with anything and seemed not to be well organised in regards to any future hunts, so I took the initiative to return to the site myself with audio and video equipment and I really sank my teeth in.     Unfortunately it turned out to be a hoax perpetrated to increase tourism. My investigation turned up no evidence, but plenty of a lack of evidence. Their ghost, a purported serial killer, was supposedly hung by the province at the end of their life, and

I wrote this as part of the 2014 Halloween short fiction contest. As a judge I am not eligible as an entrant to the contest, but I want to participate and encourage participation, so I posted this. Entries must begin with those fated and potent words "It was a dark and stormy night." Entries should be 500-1000 words in length Entries are due by October 30th. Visit  www.southcariboowriters.com  for more details!  The Dragon. By Samuel Blondahl.     It was a dark and stormy night. Two men sat on a grassy hillside overlooking a small rural town. Thunder broke in the sky above, and cold rain beat down in furious torrents, but neither man seemed disturbed by the foul mood of mother nature. Around them, the trees bent in the wind and dropped their remaining leaves in cascades. The storm was late in the season, coming in October, on the brink of winter. Below them, the town lights went dark as the storm knocked out power lines feeding electric

Bodies of Art   South Cariboo Writers Guild challenge: Writing prompt. "You are travelling through Europe on a long dreamed of vacation. You find yourself at The Louvre close to closing time. The crowds are slowly filtering out of the building, but something holds you back. You linger, even though a security guard will surely arrive soon to usher you out. But the guard never arrives, and you wander lonely, dimly lit hallways in a daze, feeling as if you have somehow strayed into a dream. A thump echoes behind you. Then another and another. You whirl around to see a man lying prone on the floor. Beyond him, more human figures dot the expanse of the wide corridor. In horror, you realise that the paintings are now empty of personages, and they all lay as if dead on the floor around you....." Virgin_of_the_Rocks Leonardo da Vinci - Louvre version Bodies of art. Samuel Blondahl     I stood aghast and stared, my jaw open and my eyes wide. Shock held me