The Bledbrooke Works

A Cosmic Horror Story

De: John F Leonard

Narrado por: Virtual Voice

Ever notice how some places don’t feel right? No rhyme or reason, they’re just unsettling, without you being able to pinpoint the cause. The vaguely suspicious demeanour of the locals. The pewtered quality of light. The old and indefinably alien smell that blows on the breeze ...difficult to say for sure, but there’s definitely something. Bledbrooke is one of those places. It’s always been different to other towns. Quaint and quiet, a little backwater with a somehow dark charm all of its own. Once you get used to it, you wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. It’s not all sweetness and light though. There are problems. A new one has just appeared. The drains on Cinderlake Drive are bubbling unsavoury water onto the street. Even worse, the toilets are blocked and spitting nastiness at some affluent backsides. The town council reckon it’s a fatberg - one of those awful accumulations of wet wipes, grease and other unmentionables. There’s only one man to call... Donald Hobdike, world-weary and well past his prime, this sort of issue inevitably ends up on his chipped desk. When it comes to the sewers in Bledbrooke, he’s seen it all and more besides. Knows them better than he knows the back of his wrinkled hand. Or so he thinks. Maybe the labyrinthine warren beneath Bledbrooke still has some surprises in store for him... THE BLEDBROOKE WORKS is a tale of everyday unpleasantness and cosmic horror. A short novella of subterranean terror seen through the eyes of an ageing engineer and a young hoodlum. One a pillar of the local community, the other an outsider who wouldn’t know communal spirit if it ran up and bit him on the bottom. Part of the Scaeth Mythos. Reality is not what it seems. There is more than any of us know. Some of it’s miraculous, some of it’s hideous beyond imagining. There is, of course, structure. Boundaries and dividing lines. Walls. The walls are thinner than we realise.