Archive for March 23rd, 2008

Let there be music, let there be song… and Elvis?

March 23, 2008

I see Bob Taylor, co-editor with me of Northern Lights (stories and poems) can now be seen and heard on:  


What a treat! Has Elvis as well as Bob entered the building? 

The Sacrifice — another short story

March 23, 2008

The Sacrifice — short story by Gladys Hobson

He opened his eyes and in the dim light what he saw terrified him: six men dressed alike in strange outfits, masks over their faces, were performing some sort of ritual around where he lay. He wanted to call out, ask them who they were, what they were doing, but he could not speak, neither could he move. He was on his back and his hands and feet were splayed out and tied down.

His heart beating wildly, he struggled against his bonds but pain seared through his body. He wanted to scream but could not.

They were now drawing closer, instruments in their hands, but his vision was too blurred to see what they were. The creatures were muttering incantations, moving in ritualistic patterns.

Oh no! No! No! He didn’t want to die… not like this, not on an alien planet far from home and loved ones. Surely this must be a nightmare and he would wake up. He tried to force himself awake, but as pain shot through his body he realised this was a nightmare from which there was no awakening.

A masked dark face bent over his: he could see beads of sweat on the creature’s brow. A mumbling sounded in his ear followed by another shot of pain the length of his chest and whole abdomen, radiating out to every nerve in his body. He tried to scream, but no sound escaped his mouth, it merely revolved in circles within his head — pain, pain, pain!

The creatures were now moving around in the dim light, some carrying bowls — of his blood and body parts? They were performing more rituals, around and around in weird patterns. He knew for certain that these movements had to do with him: he was the victim of an alien kidnap and this was a ritualistic sacrifice. How long must his suffering go on? Hours? Days? Weeks? For ever?

Sheer terror possessed him. He wanted to die…

It was some days before the drugs wore off after his ten-hour operation, and only then did he realise that the aliens were post-operative nurses. But the pain remained.

(Based on a true event)

For my latest book The Dark Mirror by G B Hobson in print and E formats
— visit:
Dare Empire. Or buy from

Deception, entrapment, betrayal, heartache. Can love continue to believe all things, overcome all things in a judgmental world?