Fear Itself is a spook-tacular collection of ghost stories. We're delighted to announce the winner as Isabel Risby from Cambridge! Isabel's story 'The Black-Caped Ghost' has won her the Raven Mysteries series by Marcus Sedgwick! Congratulations Isabel!
Here is Isabel's winning story:
The Black-Caped Ghost
Alice was finding it hard having a life as a ghost because nobody saw her
and she felt alone and miserable. She was the only one who knew she was
a ghost and she missed her family. The world was grey and gloomy with
everyone drowning in grief. It was like the underworld had attacked the village
– had she made this happen? Was it her fault? But she couldn’t help thinking
back to how it had all begun...
Alice waved goodbye to her mother and father as they walked away carrying
the withered willow basket. ‘We won’t be long,’ her mother cried, brushing her
patchwork apron with crumbly bits of pastry tumbling down.
As they disappeared out of view, Alice called Flip, her dog she adored. They
ran inside and Alice noticed the rocking chair was moving. Sitting silently in
the shadows was a man with dark black eyes, which sparkled like obsidian.
His dry lips were like cracked eggshells and Alice hid behind Flip, pretending
she wasn’t there. Suddenly, the man whisked a cape, as black as midnight
around her and then she was gone. A pile of clothes on the floor was all that
was left of her. Flip barked frantically, scraping at the clothes in desperation of
When her mother and father returned, they knew something was wrong.
Trembling in the darkness, staring at their beautiful daughter’s clothes, they
knew they’d never see her again...
© Isabel Jasmine Risby (10)
Congratulations to our runners-up, Jack Frampton from Colchester and Ruby McCallion from Middlesex, who each have won a pack of Stadtler Triplus Fineliners - happy creating!
Here are their winning words...
Just before a deliberate fire which destroyed the grand entrance hall and
servants’ quarters of Hellrick Manor, a terrible crime had been committed.
Isaac Hellrick, the eccentric owner of the manor, had been murdered
according to three eyewitnesses. The other two said he had escaped out of
the window, but had fallen into the fish pond which had been buried in debris
five minutes later.
Now, one hundred years later, three young and rather foolish men had come
to find the truth.
They arrived at the pile of debris that had previously been the entrance hall.
Almost all of the remaining roof trusses and fragments of plush tables and
chairs had rotted to a black, wet and sticky mess, and there was no apparent
evidence... The servants’ quarters were the same, just a rotted pile of wood
The bedroom where the murder had supposedly taken place was full of clues.
On the walls were scratch marks leading to the window and a dagger still lay
on the floor. But these did not support any eyewitness accounts.
Suddenly, the floor beneath them collapsed and they fell into the pantry below.
They were trapped. Out of the dust, an Edwardian figure then appeared like
an apparition. The figure murmured, ‘Murder, it was murder,’ in a ghostly
whisper, and then it vanished as the remains of the ceiling above shook then
split with an almighty cracking sound... And then there was an eerie silence.
© Jack Elliott Frampton (12)
The Stone Cottage
I don’t want to think about it. But I can’t stop it. It was midnight. I think. I don’t
have long. Before she comes. So I’ll tell you what happened.
My best friend Billy and I decided to go camping. It was really fun. Until we
remembered an old rhyme. It went like this: ‘The cottage of stone, the cottage
of stone, Don’t go together or alone. Or the witch will take you away, and you
won’t see another day.’
We laughed at ourselves for being so silly. But then we heard a noise coming
from the stone cottage. Without looking back we started running.
Suddenly a light appeared in front of us. Knowing that it was our only hope,
we rushed towards it. As we neared we saw that the light was a girl. Then, as
we got nearer still we saw her whiskers and tail. And her Victorian night dress.
Shivers ran down my spine. A ghost! The witch must have experimented on
her. Sprinting, I shouted for Billy to hurry up. But he didn’t. Looking back, I saw
him, with a look of pure terror on his face, in the witch’s arms. Before I knew
it, they were both in the stone cottage. Knowing that I would never see him
again, I slumped down on a tree stump.
I’ve been too scared to move since...
Wait! I hear something. The witch is back. And I think I know who for...
© Ruby McCallion (9)
The Breakspear School, Uxbridge