I am a 50 year old Scotsman. I've had over 150 stories published, both in paper and on-line magazines and my work has appeared in the UK, Ireland, India, Greece, Saudi Arabia, the USA and Canada. My Scottish short stories are collected in The Johnson Amulet and Other Scottish Terrors (Indypublish 2001).

I've had 8 novels published, including the Watchers trilogy: The Coming of the King, The Battle for the Throne and Culloden! (Black Death Books 2003/04/05), There is another novel on the way in 2008.

The Midnight Eye Files #2
The Sirens


At first it's a simple lost son case, but for PI Derek Adams things turn quickly to the twilight zone. Soon he's on a remote island and up to his hips in mer-women, shape changers and ancient fisher cults.
Running back to the city doesn't help; there's mayhem on the streets.
An ancient god is waking up, and only blood will stop him.


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Excerpt


It had gone suddenly quiet…I would have preferred to have the howling…at least then I’d know where the beast was. Doug was gesturing frantically at me, trying to get me to move faster. I gave him a reassuring wave.

I had just moved to the side of the car when I saw him lean forward and look up, his eyes going wide in shock. I didn’t have time to follow his gaze…something that felt like a sack of potatoes fell on me from above. I was driven to the ground, my legs buckling beneath me, all the muscles of my back squealing in agony. As my new passenger and I hit the ground all the air left my lungs in one breath, and I felt my nose mash and split as my face hit the pavement. I tasted blood in my mouth and the rough pavement rasped against my lips.

Shrieking filled my head, then there was a thump as my shoulder was hit, hard, and my whole left arm went numb. Once more I had the picture of the manic chimpanzee in my head, the shrieking, grinning grimace as it pounded its victim to a pulp.

I tried to push myself off the ground, but the weight on my back was too much, and I had to stifle a squeal as my nose got mashed into the pavement once more. A blow hit me on the side of the head, as heavy as any punch I had ever taken, and blackness started to creep in at the edges of my sight.

Above the shrieking, Doug called my name, twice. I heard the car door open.

“No,” I said, but only managed a whisper. I got my arms under me and started to push, but my strength had gone, and whatever was on my back had decided it was going to stay for a while. Even as I had that thought I felt pressure on my neck just under my jaw. Cold slimy fingers grabbed tight at my throat, then my head was pulled back at an alarming angle to my body. This time I did scream as tendons stretched and vertebrae got crushed. Blood from my busted nose ran down the back of my throat, choking back my screams to a bloody gurgle. It had gone dark, and the screaming came from ever further away. I started to feel warm, sleepy, almost comfortable, as consciousness slipped away.

Suddenly, and in the same instant, the weight lifted off my back and the shrieking stopped.

For the space of a heartbeat there was silence. Then a splatter of blood hit the concrete in front of my eyes, followed by more screaming. But this time I knew the source…that noise was ingrained in my soul. It was Doug, and he was back in his dark place, alone and hurting.

I don’t know how I managed it, but I got to my feet, my own blood falling in heavy drops to the pavement. Doug stood six feet away, holding his left arm to his chest, seemingly oblivious to the sheet of blood that poured down the front of his shirt, his eyes wide, saucer-like, staring at the creature that was even now moving swiftly towards him. He’d tried to pull the beast off me…and succeeded…at a cost. And now he had its attention.

I had been right to think of a chimpanzee. The overall body shape was similar…flat face, and long arms hanging from hunched shoulders…but this was a hairless monstrosity, its skin warty, like a toad. The mouth was a forest of tiny, razor teeth, and the beast sniffed the air through nostrils that flared and closed, flared and closed in time with each breath. It raised a hand in front of its face as it came forward, and yellow, splintered nails grew out into bloody talons with a liquid, almost flatulent, slither. The eyes were the worst. I knew those eyes. I’d talked to the person who usually lived behind them. But John Mason was not at home. What was in residence was a thing of power and malevolence. And it was still heading straight for Doug.

Doug stood there, rigid in shock.

“Come here,” I shouted at him, “Doug, get over here, now!”

But he was incapable of movement…he couldn’t take his eyes off the thing that advanced on him.

The beast sniffed the air again, and I saw its gaze drop to the blood that still poured out of Doug’s arm. It raised its head and howled at the sky, and a cold shiver ran the full way down my spine. Lights went on in flats all around us, and I had little doubt that even now at least one person was calling the police. I had no time to think about that…any police arrival was going to be too late to save Doug. My back screamed in pain, and my neck joined in, but I stepped forward, intending to get in its way. That was the only thought I had…I knew I hadn’t the strength to fight it, but even battered as I was, I was in better shape for a fight than Doug was.

The beast watched me closely as I stepped between it and Doug. It sniffed at me, like a dog checking a new rival, then it howled again. And as it did so, a ripple ran over the full length of its body, as if a nest of small snakes slithered under the skin. Then it started coming for me. I stood my ground, but the strength was going from my legs.

“Run Doug. I’ll keep it busy,” I said, with more bravado than I felt. But he was still struck immobile. I risked a glance and looked over at him. Tears ran down his cheeks, and all the blood drained from his face, but he couldn’t take his eyes off it.

So I stood there, between the beast and my friend, and watched my death come for me.

As it got within arm’s length I tensed myself. I would have time for just one punch. I clenched my fist.

It was so close I could smell its breath. It stank of stale meat.

“Move to the side son,” Jessie Malcolm’s voice said behind me. “Move to the side, or I’ll have to go through you.”

Whether it was instinct or whether I was just too shocked to disobey, I fell away to my left. At the same time a gunshot nearly deafened me. I saw the bullet hit the creature just beneath the ribs, but there was no explosion of blood and gore…it seemed to absorb the impact, as if its flesh was soft clay. All that showed was a wet hole that gleamed moistly in the streetlights, a hole no larger than a button.

There was pain though, and the beast threw back its head and howled again, long and loud, a scream of anguish that echoed through the street and brought more lights on in the windows of houses all around.

“I’m sorry son,” old lady Malcolm said, and pumped another shot into it. And this time it staggered, almost falling. All over its body its skin rippled again, toady warts grew fat, sprouting thick bundles of black fur, and a line of porcupine-like spines thrust out in a bloody line down its spine.

It raised its head and looked up, first at Doug, then over at the old lady who stood, rock solid, a smoking gun pointed straight at it, then back at Doug again. Thick ropy drools of saliva fell from its lower lip as it sniffed again at the blood.

Another shot rang out, but this time the creature had already moved. It jumped, from a standing start, onto the roof of the car, then was off and away into the darkness across the car park before any of us had time to move.


The Midnight Eye Files: The Sirens by William Meikle. Copyright © 2008. All rights reserved. .