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John Sinclair - Demon Hunter Book 1 - 3 von Conroy, Gabriel (eBook)

  • Erscheinungsdatum: 05.10.2015
  • Verlag: Bastei Lübbe AG
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John Sinclair - Demon Hunter

JOHN SINCLAIR. A Horror Series Compilation. Episode 1-3. Episode 1. CURSE OF THE UNDEAD: There are so many ways a person can die. Sooner or later, everyone's number is up, and no one comes back ... or do they? On a cold November night, a grieving father picks up his hunting rifle and shoots his only daughter in the head. The police are mystified. Why was the girl even at the house? Why wasn't she at the mortuary ... awaiting her burial? After all, Mary Winston had been declared dead two days before. The incident is only the first in a series of mysterious attacks in the small Scottish town of Middlesbury. Dead bodies go missing. A cemetery caretaker is devoured alive. An ancient curse is about to be unleashed ... Detective Chief Inspector John Sinclair works for Scotland Yard's Special Division, an elite unit that deals with extraordinary cases. DCI Sinclair is a battle-hardened veteran of Afghanistan, a man haunted by the past. But nothing could have prepared him for the horrors he's about to face. He goes to Scotland to investigate the gruesome murders but what he finds is a town in the grip of fear. The people of Middlesbury are harboring a secret. A secret that is about to explode ... Episode 2. THE LORD OF DEATH: We all serve a master in this life. But only a very few unlucky souls serve the Lord of Death. When Chester Davis returns from an archeological dig in Mexico, he is a changed man ... and not for the better. On a cold and rainy night, Davis reaches for a gun and goes on a shooting spree in Lower Manhattan. So begins another adventure for Detective Chief Inspector John Sinclair of Scotland Yard's Special Division. This time, Sinclair travels to an Aztec burial site, where he has to find and destroy an ancient death cult ... Episode 3. DR: SATANOS: 'No one knew his name. People in these parts simply called him 'Dr. Satanos'. He had the look of a kindly uncle. He was dressed in a white lab coat ... splattered with specks of blood ...' A mysterious scientist is working on a groundbreaking medical procedure - with deadly consequences. When an elderly hairdresser finds a severed head in the middle of a coastal road, an extraordinary sequence of events begins ... and a small town in Cornwall is plunged into a terrifying nightmare. This time, Sinclair is in a race against the clock, trying to stop a gruesome killing spree ... 'A hero so suave and dashing, he makes James Bond look like a grubby detective sergeant, a plot that reads like it came straight from the great vaults of Hammer, and enough action and derring do to keep even the most ardent pulp fan smiling with glee.[...] A tight, punchy read that heralds the start of a great new series of pulp horror. Highly recommended.' Ginger Nuts of Horror. 'John Sinclair' is the relaunch of Europe's longest running horror series. Originally conceived in 1973 by Jason Dark and still going strong, the 'John Sinclair' novellas are firmly rooted in the finest pulp traditions: true page turners with spine-tingling suspense, exquisite gore, and a dash of adventure. For fans of the dark visions of Stephen King, Clive Barker and the 'X-Files' and the fast-paced action and globe-trotting excitement of James Bond. Gabriel Conroy was born in Los Angeles, California, in 1967. After high school, he joined the armed forces and was stationed in Germany for several years. He discovered his love for writing while traveling through Europe. When he returned to the States, he studied Journalism at Los Angeles City College and UCLA, and currently works as a freelance journalist, writer, and translator. Mr. Conroy is married and has a dog and a cat.


    Format: ePUB
    Kopierschutz: watermark
    Seitenzahl: 300
    Erscheinungsdatum: 05.10.2015
    Sprache: Englisch
    ISBN: 9783732517107
    Verlag: Bastei Lübbe AG
    Größe: 458 kBytes
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John Sinclair - Demon Hunter

All I remember is the running. The fear and the running. I'm no longer sure if it was a dream. But I don't think it was.

I remember the woods at night, their deep shadows. The voices.

My heart was pounding in my chest. My legs hurt. It felt as if my body was on fire.

I was running.

I was too scared to stop.

If I stopped, he would catch me ...

I looked over my shoulder, but in the darkness, I saw nothing but my own fear.

Then I heard the branches rustle.

He was coming ...

The dreams started after my father died. I wanted him to die, mind you. He was a hard man, and I hated him, or so I believed at the time. He was a war veteran. He believed in discipline. He believed in the belt. That's what I remember of him: His voice, the scent of tobacco and whiskey ... and the belt. The creaking of the leather in the moments before. I wanted him to die. God, I wanted it.

For a brief moment, I stopped running. My heartbeat had become a steady thumping in my head. My chest was about to explode.

I stopped for only a moment, but in that moment, I saw him ...

I remember that I screamed. Sometimes, at night, I still do. I scream.

I saw him and I started running again.

The tree branches hit my face as I ran. I could taste blood on my lips.

"Damn you, Johnny!"

My father's voice.

"Come here and take it like a man!"

I kept on running.

Then I fell, hard. I could hear something breaking, and I hoped it wasn't any part of me. Must have been a tree branch. Nothing else. I got up again. My ankle hurt. But I had to keep on running.

"Come here, Johnny, my boy!"

I ran and I ran until I finally collapsed.

I found myself in a clearing in the woods.

And that's where I first saw him.

The Gaunt Man.

He stood by the trees, their shadows nearly hiding him. The only thing that set him apart was the white glimmer of his teeth as he grinned at me.

"Johnny, my boy," he said. His voice was raspy and as old as the earth. Older even.

My heart was still pounding. I was gasping for air. My legs were weak. My body was sweating, and despite all that, I suddenly felt a cold chill surround me.

"Who are you?" I asked. I was ten at the time. So young. But still old enough to know.

"You know who I am," said the Gaunt Man. "I've been waiting for you, Johnny, my boy. We've all been waiting."

He wore a black suit and a bowler hat. His skin was white, like something long-dead. He moved like a snake. When he breathed, the trees hissed and rustled.

"What are you running from?" said the Gaunt Man.

I stared at him. My throat was suddenly dry. My voice sounded hoarse and raspy.

"From you," I said. "I'm running from you."

He grinned, and his sharp teeth were like razors. He came toward me. I was frozen with fear, like a rabbit staring at a snake.

"Well," he said, "it would appear I caught you, John Sinclair."

And then I screamed.

I still do that, you know.

I scream at night.

Middlesbury, Scotland. 11:51 p.m.

Shortly before midnight, Kinny Mitchell woke up in a sweat, gasping for air. His fingers were shaking. Outside, the rain was beating against his window.

A nightmare, he thought. Just a nightmare. The room was dark. He had been dreaming of the girl. Yes, that must be it. The girl.

Something about her was different. Something bothered him. He kept thinking of her body, lying next door. He rubbed his eyes. He could hear thunder in the distance. He always hated thunder, even as a child - a silly thing to be afraid of.

He sank back down on his bed and exhaled, staring into the darkness and the rain outside.

She was just seventeen. Seventeen! Maybe that's what it was. She was too young to die. Most of the people who came here were old an

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