WELCOME TO STORIES BY C.S. CASPAR
LEGEND AND LITERATURE
EACH PROGRESSIVE SPIRIT IS OPPOSED BY A THOUSAND MEDIOCRE MINDS APPOINTED TO GUARD THE PAST... Maurice Maeterlinck
Coming soon - The Light, The Shadow and Chaos.
A spiritual journey into why we live, what makes us who we are, and what happens after we die...
Here is a little of what you will find in The Light, The Shadow and Chaos.
“Be Silent…! Howled the Shadow, “You ask what is time and I say to you; time is for he who longs for death yet it never comes. Time is for those that love, yet see not their own heart. Nothing ever changes for those that seek the future in the past. For time is not a second before or after. It is the space in-between nothing and forever.”
Coming soon - The Light, The Shadow and Chaos.
A spiritual journey into why we live, what makes us who we are, and what happens after we die...
Here is a little of what you will find in The Light, The Shadow and Chaos.
“Be Silent…! Howled the Shadow, “You ask what is time and I say to you; time is for he who longs for death yet it never comes. Time is for those that love, yet see not their own heart. Nothing ever changes for those that seek the future in the past. For time is not a second before or after. It is the space in-between nothing and forever.”
A dark otherworld exists alongside ours, because the true meaning of our convictions lie in the rhythm of time. What we believe is time, may find its answer in our greatest fears.
PRINT COPY TEMPORARITY UNAVAILABLE.
I am ancient evil. A malignant, vile creature older than humanity. Legion is my name and my power originates deep inside the primitive core of your fears. I exist because you live between the spaces of Light and Darkness. You are here, steeped in half light and shadows, but at the same time, somewhere else living in denial . . . Hoodie Black
Crystal creek isn’t like any other house. Victor Garland, built it for his mad son Harrison.
It all started long before 1835 when Harrison disappeared and no one could find him. However, eight days later, he returned home, a little starved, a little dirty and a little mad. . . and he didn’t come alone.
It’s 2015 when Alex Hunter, a private detective, still grieving the loss of his wife and only daughter, buys the long abandoned Crystal creek. And it isn’t long before he meets the former owner, Victors` great grandson, Arthur Garland. Arthur leads Alex into an incredible story about the house, a family curse, a murderous ancestor, and a past that won’t let go.
While murders are piling up, and Alex’s former convictions about the house are crumbling. Two immortals come to his aid. One is an Assassin, the other an Angel. When the Assassin offers Alex a deal, and if he succeeds, he will have the chance to turn back time and save his wife and daughter from the accident. He accepts the challenge. However, as we all know. Everything comes at a price.
Available now..... :)
Crystal creek isn’t like any other house. Victor Garland, built it for his mad son Harrison.
It all started long before 1835 when Harrison disappeared and no one could find him. However, eight days later, he returned home, a little starved, a little dirty and a little mad. . . and he didn’t come alone.
It’s 2015 when Alex Hunter, a private detective, still grieving the loss of his wife and only daughter, buys the long abandoned Crystal creek. And it isn’t long before he meets the former owner, Victors` great grandson, Arthur Garland. Arthur leads Alex into an incredible story about the house, a family curse, a murderous ancestor, and a past that won’t let go.
While murders are piling up, and Alex’s former convictions about the house are crumbling. Two immortals come to his aid. One is an Assassin, the other an Angel. When the Assassin offers Alex a deal, and if he succeeds, he will have the chance to turn back time and save his wife and daughter from the accident. He accepts the challenge. However, as we all know. Everything comes at a price.
Available now..... :)
THE OLD RAILWAY TUNNEL A Short Story....
An abused little girl . . . She's in Danger . . .
Thomas wants no trouble . . . But evil has to be stopped . . .
Time is running out.
A sense of something foul surged through his body, something hideously dark; it filled him with dread and he goose fleshed all over.'
WAY TO GO A Short Story...
A book for every soul that ever lived . . .A book with your name on it . . .
And if you opened that book, what would you find?
Some secrets should never be revealed.
'... with one hand, the creature snapped his fingers, and with the other, he searched inside his robe before withdrawing an impossibly large feathered quill. A book simply glided out of the shelf and hovered in mid-air. The creature that could have once been a man grasped the floating book with a bony hand, opening it somewhere in the middle. He flipped a few pages and began writing...'
THE TALLYMAN - A TRIBUTE TO STEPHEN KING... A Short Story...Is available on Amazon and Smashwords.
A famous writer with too many disgruntled characters . . .
What happens when they come for revenge?
Start running or negotiate.
''Moments later The Dark Man was leaning over me, smiling into my face . He was a malevolent-looking man. "Good Day, Sunshine, I' am the Tallyman," he said quietly, "I've been sent to collect." I stared back at him, my mouth gaping. "Collect… collect what?" I gurgled through more blood. There was a pause, and his smile got wider. "What is owed."
The Tallyman, had coal- black eyes. He wore a long black jacket, blue jeans, and yellow leather gloves. A black woolen beanie hid what appeared to be a bald head. I was still observing him when next he said. "Look at it this way, Stephen, what is about to happen to you is just like what happened in Pet Cemetery."
http://www.amazon.com/dp/BOOUWE20JI
STYGIAN RIVER A Short Story...
A book was hidden long ago by an evil witch . . .
Inside was a map . . A promise and a curse . .
But a sacrifice must be paid.
... the approaching sound of something slithering through the grass, something fat, heavy, and unnatural. It paused close to the smoldering remnants. A tiny, cold pink hand, picked up a small charred piece of blue cloth; then it moved off again. Only to disappear down the hole it had emerged from the night before.'
DON'T LET HIM IN Flash Fiction...
Don't fall asleep . . .
Don't believe what you see . . .
Don't call for help . . . and whatever you do . . .
Don't Let Him In . . .
It isn't human but instead, the lurking fear felt in every human heart. Then it was gone, leaping fluidly into the hallway and vanishing.'