The Restless Dead is a spook-tacular collection of ghost stories. We're delighted to announce the winner as Alex Fenlon from London! Alex's story 'The Hooded Man' has won him the Raven Mysteries series by Marcus Sedgwick! Congratulations Alex!
Here is Alex's winning story:
The Hooded Man
Gently, the cold swiped against my face, my coat swarmed with frost. I walked
calmly as I tried to get back home in a warm, comfy bed. Would I ever arrive
home? A silent whisper, I heard in the distance and the moonlight shining
upon my face. Silent, calm and dark the night was nothing more than a terrible
nightmare. Rats scurried through the sewers, their disturbing rattling heard from
Not even a single person or animal walked the streets. I saw my house on the
far end of the narrow corner. I stopped - a noise. 'Kill,' the whisper cried. Heart
pounding, brain thinking and legs frozen, without hesitation I dashed through the
road and looked behind me. A man in a black hoodie was slowly walking towards
me. I slipped and saw him standing not far from me. I slithered backwards and
finally reached the front door. I slammed the door for an answer or someone
to open but nothing. I began crying, screaming for help. I turned my head and
looked behind me.
There he was, a dark shadow… I couldn't see the face and as he leaned forward
at me, I blanked out. I awoke from what I believed to be a nightmare and realised
I had died and I was lying on a variety of clouds, I glared at Earth below me. I took
a deep breath and laid down crying in the middle of the sky. I saw the man in front
of me again…
©Alex Lewis Fenlon (11)
Congratulations to our runners-up, Samia Sharmin from London and Isis Phillips from Richmond, who each win a Stadtler home office set and a pack of Triplus Fineliners - happy creating! Here are their winning words...
A Soul For Me
Leila hurriedly ran through the forest. Her mother had told her to be home before
nightfall but she had lost track of time at the library. Clutching her coat tightly,
Leila increased her pace, as the snowflakes gracefully danced in the air before
claiming their place on the ground. The serenity of the atmosphere echoed the
humming of the waxwing birds. The deeper Leila progressed within the forest, the
quicker the birds’ humming was replaced with solitude.
The wind lingered amongst the brooding trees whispering secrets. Leila glanced
around, taking in her surroundings, sky-high trees towered over her, they were
dusted with a fine coat of white snow. The humongous leaves overlapped one
another, almost as if they had something to conceal. Leila began to feel anxious,
she remembered how her mother would narrate stories about the ghosts that
lurked in the forest; vile merciless creatures that would devour your souls then
ravenously leaving your body behind to show others the consequences of
treading on their land.
The snap of a twig instantly caused Leila to stop dead in her tracks, fear
consumed her. Even so she slowly peeked around to see… nothing. Turning
back Leila was terror-stricken by the sight before her. A hollow figure with one very
prominent feature, golden irises that flashed black, a booming voice laced with
rage spoke, ‘Your soul is mine!’
That night, Leila’s mother waited for her daughter who was yet to arrive home,
while outside the snowflakes gently continued to dance in the oblivion.
©Samia Sharmin (16)
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Why won’t Mummy let me in? She said you should never leave a child out in the
cold. I can hear Daddy bolting the door, Janet screaming, Mummy ushering,
running up the stairs… and Tom, his pale cheeks rosy in the centre, with his hand
pressed against the window, staring at me.
‘Dad! It’s me!’ I cry desperately.
‘Monster,’ Daddy growls and he tries to pull Tom away but Tom refuses.
‘Daddy, it’s James!’
Daddy stares at me. ‘That thing is not James. James is dead. Tom, that thing is
not my son.’ Every word bites. I don’t understand: I am James. Aren’t I? I stare at
There is no reflection.
James is dead. I am dead.
‘Help me,’ I mouth to Tom, he will as we were always the best of friends, but he is
looking at me weirdly.
A scream pierces the freezing air.
Tom, my lovely, funny, adorable brother is scared of me. My family is scared of
I am not James anymore. I am dead. I am a ghost. I have been hurt. And I will get
©Isis Phillips (10)
A huge thank you to everyone who took part, we look forward to reading more of your hair-raising tales in the future!