About Funhouse
Roll up to the Funhouse, a brand new collection of tales from the author of Whisper, Dark
Corners & Meat, Michael Bray.
A man who makes an unscheduled stop gets more than he bargained for in ‘CANDYLAND.’
A Group of teens discover a terrible secret on Samsonite farm in ‘SCARECROWS.’
A school yard bully and his former victim reunite with horrifying results in ‘LONG TALL
COFFIN.’
A High school party becomes an arachnid nightmare for one unfortunate guest in ‘THE BOY
WHO SAW SPIDERS.’
These are just some of the horrors hidden within the darkest recesses of the funhouse. Look
closer if you dare, and indulge in these 16 tales of madness, murder, terror and insanity.
Corners & Meat, Michael Bray.
A man who makes an unscheduled stop gets more than he bargained for in ‘CANDYLAND.’
A Group of teens discover a terrible secret on Samsonite farm in ‘SCARECROWS.’
A school yard bully and his former victim reunite with horrifying results in ‘LONG TALL
COFFIN.’
A High school party becomes an arachnid nightmare for one unfortunate guest in ‘THE BOY
WHO SAW SPIDERS.’
These are just some of the horrors hidden within the darkest recesses of the funhouse. Look
closer if you dare, and indulge in these 16 tales of madness, murder, terror and insanity.
Excerpt
“So, what ya think of Candyland?” Clayton asked.
“It’s different to what I’m used to.”
“You from the city?”
“Yeah. L.A.”
“We manage to avoid all the troubles of the wider world here in Candyland. Nobody really
notices us out 'ere on our slice of the world.”
“You must have some kind of trade though, right?”
Clayton glared, and again, Norton saw that little flicker of pure rage bubbling beneath the
surface.
“Actually, ma family have worked 'ard to make sure Candyland remains entirely selfsufficient.
We look after our own, and are quite happy for the world to go on without
knowing we exist.”
Nobody knows I’m here.
It was the first time such a thought had entered Norton’s head, and the reason for it was
simple.
Clayton Candy scared him.
As a physical presence, he wasn’t in the least bit intimidated, but there was something
about him that was making the hairs on the back of Norton’s neck stand up as they picked
their way through the crowd. He no longer wanted to speak to Clayton, and with Christine’s
words still fresh, he turned to Herb.
“Mind if I ask what happened?”
Herb opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Clayton interjected.
“Ol' Herb 'ere had a nasty fall around twenty years back. Broke his spine in three places.”
Norton looked at Clayton, searching his face for any hint of a lie.
“Can't Herb speak for himself?”
“Oh he can, but he doesn’t like to say much these days. Do ya Herb?”
“No, Mr Candy sir.” Herb said, looking at Norton with such desperation, that he decided
not to push the subject.
The trio walked back past the barbecue, which despite everything still smelled as good as
ever. Norton could see the blue paintwork of the caddy, glittering in the sunlight, and his
mood lifted at the thought of leaving such a backwards little town behind.
“Oh my…”
Norton’s Cadillac was exactly where he had left it, except now it was without wheels.
They had all been removed, and the car was propped up on bricks.
“God damn it! God damn kids!” Clayton raged, looking into the throng of people at the
fete.
“Messin’ with our guests like this, wait till I get my hands on the little bastards…”
For all of Clayton’s flapping and making a show of his dissatisfaction, Norton was more
interested in Herb’s reaction.
Unlike Clayton, he didn’t seem in the least bit surprised.
For the next few hours, Clayton made a song and dance about trying to find out who had
removed Norton’s wheels. He stalked around the fete, asking questions, and demanding
answers. Norton was certain that the entire performance was for his benefit. He leaned
against his car, watching Clayton stalk around the fete, and keeping a watchful eye on the sun
as it started to get lower in the sky.
“Mr Norton?”
He looked at Herb.
“Yeah?”
At first, he didn’t respond. He simply sat in his wheelchair, chewing at his filthy,
overgrown thumbnail. Just when Norton thought that he had only imagined Herb speak, the
old man looked at him, his eyes wide and frightened.
“This is how it always goes.”
“How what goes?”
“'Ere in Candyland. It always works like this.”
“What is it Herb? Tell me what to do and I can help you.”
The old man smiled without humour and shook his head.
“Ain’t nobody 'ere who can help you, me or anyone else.”
“As soon as I get back on the road, I’ll come back. I’ll bring help.”
“You don’t get it do ya son?” Herb said as he held Norton’s gaze. “You ain’t never getting
outta Candyland now.”
“It’s different to what I’m used to.”
“You from the city?”
“Yeah. L.A.”
“We manage to avoid all the troubles of the wider world here in Candyland. Nobody really
notices us out 'ere on our slice of the world.”
“You must have some kind of trade though, right?”
Clayton glared, and again, Norton saw that little flicker of pure rage bubbling beneath the
surface.
“Actually, ma family have worked 'ard to make sure Candyland remains entirely selfsufficient.
We look after our own, and are quite happy for the world to go on without
knowing we exist.”
Nobody knows I’m here.
It was the first time such a thought had entered Norton’s head, and the reason for it was
simple.
Clayton Candy scared him.
As a physical presence, he wasn’t in the least bit intimidated, but there was something
about him that was making the hairs on the back of Norton’s neck stand up as they picked
their way through the crowd. He no longer wanted to speak to Clayton, and with Christine’s
words still fresh, he turned to Herb.
“Mind if I ask what happened?”
Herb opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Clayton interjected.
“Ol' Herb 'ere had a nasty fall around twenty years back. Broke his spine in three places.”
Norton looked at Clayton, searching his face for any hint of a lie.
“Can't Herb speak for himself?”
“Oh he can, but he doesn’t like to say much these days. Do ya Herb?”
“No, Mr Candy sir.” Herb said, looking at Norton with such desperation, that he decided
not to push the subject.
The trio walked back past the barbecue, which despite everything still smelled as good as
ever. Norton could see the blue paintwork of the caddy, glittering in the sunlight, and his
mood lifted at the thought of leaving such a backwards little town behind.
“Oh my…”
Norton’s Cadillac was exactly where he had left it, except now it was without wheels.
They had all been removed, and the car was propped up on bricks.
“God damn it! God damn kids!” Clayton raged, looking into the throng of people at the
fete.
“Messin’ with our guests like this, wait till I get my hands on the little bastards…”
For all of Clayton’s flapping and making a show of his dissatisfaction, Norton was more
interested in Herb’s reaction.
Unlike Clayton, he didn’t seem in the least bit surprised.
For the next few hours, Clayton made a song and dance about trying to find out who had
removed Norton’s wheels. He stalked around the fete, asking questions, and demanding
answers. Norton was certain that the entire performance was for his benefit. He leaned
against his car, watching Clayton stalk around the fete, and keeping a watchful eye on the sun
as it started to get lower in the sky.
“Mr Norton?”
He looked at Herb.
“Yeah?”
At first, he didn’t respond. He simply sat in his wheelchair, chewing at his filthy,
overgrown thumbnail. Just when Norton thought that he had only imagined Herb speak, the
old man looked at him, his eyes wide and frightened.
“This is how it always goes.”
“How what goes?”
“'Ere in Candyland. It always works like this.”
“What is it Herb? Tell me what to do and I can help you.”
The old man smiled without humour and shook his head.
“Ain’t nobody 'ere who can help you, me or anyone else.”
“As soon as I get back on the road, I’ll come back. I’ll bring help.”
“You don’t get it do ya son?” Herb said as he held Norton’s gaze. “You ain’t never getting
outta Candyland now.”
About Michael Bray
Michael Bray is a Horror author based in Leeds,
England. Influenced from an early age by the suspense horror of authors such as
Stephen King, and the trashy pulp TV shows like Tales From The Crypt & The
Twilight Zone, he started to work on his own fiction, and spent many years
developing his style. In May 2012, he signed a deal with the highly reputable
Dark Hall Press to print and distribute his collection of interlinked short
stories titled Dark Corners, which was released in September 2012. His second
release was a Novella titled MEAT which was initially self-published before
being picked up by J. Ellington Ashton Press. His first full length novel, a
supernatural horror titled Whisper was initially self-published, and following
great critical acclaim, sold to Horrific Tales publishing where it went on to
reach as high as #3 in the amazon paid best sellers list.
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