***
Two days later, Herbert lay in a hospital ward dying. It was so damn hot. He boiled in these sweat-sodden sheets. His mouth was parched, his lips cracked and sore. The doctors claimed he had septicemia, but Herbert knew better. He had succumbed to the Murder Seat’s curse. At least that terrible piece of furniture would claim no more victims.
An icy hand touched his swollen arm. Francis sat beside him. “Awake again, I see.”
“I’m dying,” Herbert said.
Francis shook his head. “That’s not what the doctors say. You’re going to make a full recovery. You just have to be patient.” He frowned. “I have a bit of bad news, though. You remember the cleaner who found you? She died last night in a freak accident. A stone from a car hit her square in the forehead and killed her.”
So, the curse had taken her. Herbert had been a coward to use her in his scheme. Whatever about Concepta, the cleaner had been completely innocent. He would never escape the shame of what he had done, not even in death. His crimes already condemned him to hell. His only consolation was that he had destroyed the chair. Surely, that heroic act atoned a little for his sin.
“Oh, yes,” Francis said. His face reddened a little. “I have a present for you. I’ve been doing a little carpentry lately. I’ve made you a wooden mask. In the culture I’m studying, they are used to ward off evil spirits.”
“Thank you,” Herbert said, deeply moved. At least his son didn’t dismiss him as a raving maniac. And Herbert needed all the protection from evil that he could get.
Francis lifted something off the floor. He hesitated. “It’s not very good.”
“No need for modesty. Show me.”
The infernal grin of the mask Francis produced made Herbert shudder.
Francis shrugged. “It’s meant to be a smile.”
“It’s lovely,” Herbert insisted.
Francis’ sheepish smile broadened. “I got the wood for it from that chair you broke up in your office.”
So the Murder Seat had survived. And it now wore a face with which to leer in triumph at him.
Herbert couldn’t take any more. He screamed.
Francis called the nurses and helped them hold Herbert down.
“Calm down,” Francis urged.
But Herbert couldn’t calm down. Drugs couldn’t subdue him either. He couldn’t stop screaming…until he screamed himself to death.
A Word From The Author
Please, please leave an honest review wherever you purchased it.
If you enjoyed The Murder Seat please check out my other stories at https://photocosm.org/ or join my email list at https://eepurl.com/OVUjf. You can also find me on Twitter (@noel_coughlan) and Facebook (Noel Coughlan - Writer).
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Best wishes,
Noel
The Golden Rule Series
AscendantSun's memory stretches back to the bloody birth of the cosmos. Created to serve a dead god, he tired of his empty religion and adopted the faith of his former enemies. Now, a threat from the past is forcing him to choose between his new friends and his own people.
Escaping enslavement made Grael a hero in others’ eyes. As everything he has won begins to slip away, he strives to protect his loved ones from both the Elfin invaders and the machinations of his own ruler.
Everyone else considers Garscap's childhood tragedy to be a curse, but he knows it marked him for greatness. Mercenary, manipulative and murderous, he has the mind of a great leader, but not the heart. Will his ruthlessness prove ultimately to be his people’s salvation or their bane?
Prophesy is against them. Numbers, too. But, the greatest threat is mistrust. Can they forge an effective alliance before the bright power rising in the east destroys them?
The Golden Rule consists of A Bright Power Rising and The Unconquered Sun. A short story, The Parting Gift, is set in the same world.
Acknowledgments
I want to thank the good people at Finish The Story for all their work—Bryan Thomas Schmidt (developmental and line editing), Claire Ashgrove (copy editing) and Alicia Dean (proofreading). I also want to thank Pamela Guerrieri-Cangioli from Proofed To Perfection for her additional copy editing and proofreading. A special thanks to Alison Quick, William Bitner, Matt Butterweck, and everyone else who took part in the cover poll.
About Noel Coughlan
I live with my wife and daughter in Ireland.
From a young age, I was always writing a book. Generally, the first page over and over. Sometimes, I even reached the second page before I had shredded the entire copy book.
In my teenage years, I wrote some poetry, some of which would make a Vogon blush.
When I was fourteen, I had a dream. It was of a world where the inhabitants believed that each hue of light was a separate god, and that matter was simply another form of light. Thus, the world of Elysion was born.
I tinkered with the idea for a couple of decades, putting together mythologies, histories, maps, etc., but world-building isn’t worth much without a gripping story. Finally, I discovered a tale so compelling I just had to write it—The Golden Rule Duology.
I also write other fantasy, science fiction, and horror stories.
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