999: Twenty-nine Original Tales of Horror and Suspense by Al Sarrantonio

By Al Sarrantonio

A ward-winning author and editor Al Sarrantonio gathers jointly twenty-nine unique tales from masters of the macabre. From darkish delusion and natural suspense to vintage horror stories of vampires and zombies, 999 showcases the intense scope of fantastical fright fiction. The tales during this anthology are a constant journey de strength of worry, so as to hang-out you, terrify you, and continue the adrenaline speeding throughout the night.

Authors incorporated are: Stephen King, Neil Gaiman, William Peter Blatty, F. Paul Wilson, Chet Williamson, Tim Powers, Nancy A. Collins, Ramsey Campbell, Edward Lee, P. D. Cacek, Thomas Ligotti, Rick Hautala, Peter Schneider, Ed Gorman, Gene Wolfe, Edward Bryant, Michael Marshall Smith, Joe R. Lansdale, Bentley Little, Thomas F. Monteleone, Dennis L. McKiernan, Eric van Lustbader, David Morrell, Joyce Carol Oates, Kim Newman, Thomas M. Disch, T. E. D. Klein, Steven Spruill.

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999: Twenty-nine Original Tales of Horror and Suspense

A ward-winning author and editor Al Sarrantonio gathers jointly twenty-nine unique tales from masters of the macabre. From darkish delusion and natural suspense to vintage horror stories of vampires and zombies, 999 showcases the intense scope of fantastical fright fiction. The tales during this anthology are a constant journey de strength of worry, in order to hang-out you, terrify you, and hold the adrenaline dashing throughout the evening.

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Extra resources for 999: Twenty-nine Original Tales of Horror and Suspense

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He tugged at my hair, pulling some free, then stepped away. “You are the spawn of a Sax­on whore,” he said, 'and no Sax­on could ev­er be trust­ed. " “Gra­cious Lord,” I said to him, but he did not stay to hear more. There was a time when he bowed his knee to me and kissed my sword, but now he is a saint and I am noth­ing but the most mis­er­able of sin­ners. And a cold sin­ner too, for the light be­yond our walls is hol­low, grey and full of threat. The first snow will fall very soon. And there was snow when Arthur's tale be­gan.

We wait­ed for Mer­lin's re­turn, but he did not come and the Tor seemed emp­ty with­out him, though our dai­ly life hard­ly changed. The store-​rooms had to be kept filled and the rats had to be killed and the fire­wood and spring wa­ter had to be car­ried up­hill three times a day. Gu­dovan, Mer­lin's scribe, kept a tal­ly of the ten­ants' pay­ments while Hy­wel, the stew­ard, rode the es­tates to make cer­tain no fam­ily cheat­ed their ab­sent lord. Gu­dovan and Hy­wel were both sober, hard-​head­ed, hard-​work­ing men; proof, Nimue told me, that Mer­lin's ec­cen­tric­ities end­ed where his in­come be­gan.

Tanaburs scut­tled from pil­lar to pil­lar, mut­ter­ing charms and spit­ting. When he passed close to my hid­ing place I crouched low un­til the smell of him had fad­ed. Flames crack­led on the fire-​stones at the hall's two ends, their smoke min­gling and churn­ing in the soot-​black­ened roof space. There was no sign of Nimue. Wine, smoked fish and oat­cakes were served to the vis­itors, then Bish­op Bed­win made a speech ex­plain­ing to Nor­wen­na that Gundleus, King of Sil­uria, while on a mis­sion of friend­ship to the High King, had hap­pened to be pass­ing close to Ynys Wydryn and had thought it cour­te­ous to pay this vis­it to the Prince Mor­dred and his moth­er.

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