N J Delmas
Bio
I lean towards the darker side of fiction and poetry. I love folk lore, fairy tales, ghosts and witches, often giving old themes a new twist. I have published with several magazines and am in the process of writing a dark YA fiction.
Stories (17)
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The Photograph
I return exhausted after submitting a watertight report on the lost rover. I get back to the dwelling before Dr Cho and take the stair two at a time as I ascend. Picking up the carafe of water by my bed, I quickly cross the hallway into Dr Cho’s bedroom. It’s sparsely decorated, clinical and void of personal effects. I don’t have time to linger as I swop her carafe with mine, however I notice a photo frame face down on the side table. I turn it over to see an image of the doctor and a teenage girl. They smile at the camera as the doctor wraps her arms around the girl’s shoulders from behind. There is no doubt in my mind it’s her daughter. The similarities are astounding. I leave the room and make myself a coffee in the replicator downstairs and wait until she arrives home.
By N J Delmasabout 14 hours ago in Chapters
Manchineel - OBE
That evening, when I enter my room, Dr Cho is already there. She jumps slightly as she turns and sees me. “I’ve just bought you some fresh water.” She pours a glass, then places the carafe by the bed. She covers her initial shock well, but I’m left with a niggling feeling like I’m 15 and she’s been reading my diary.
By N J Delmas3 days ago in Chapters
Manchineel
A gentle whirl announces the arrival of a pod from above, down through a central column. It floats to a stop. The egg-shaped capsule twists to the right with a pneumatic whirl, revealing a door. A small, dark-haired woman emerges. Her hair flows down her back in waves, black and shiny like raven's feathers. Her eyes are almost as dark with a cold, precise beauty.
By N J Delmas7 days ago in Chapters
Bell book and Candle
I sit on the wooden pew with my head bowed, concentrating on the green chequered pattern of my pleated school skirt. The chapel is small and located in the old Manor House part of the building. The alter stands in front of a large bay window looking out on the grounds and the ha-ha wall beyond. A single candle drips warm wax at its centre filling the air with frankincense scented smoke.
By N J Delmas11 days ago in Horror
Manchineel
A distant lilac ball hung in a clear desert sky. The sun reduced to a small purple sphere before it set behind volcanoes. Streaks of silvery blue clouds shone in the twilight before relenting to the night and its two silver moons. Deep, deep down inside a canyon, amongst red cracked regolith, reaching up with twisted branches, a tree grew on Mars.
By N J Delmas17 days ago in Chapters
Dial One for Heaven. Top Story - February 2026.
A red phone box stands alone in the middle of a field. Long grass and wildflowers surround it and little else. I make my way over; glad I’m wearing my wellies. I avoid the cow pats along the way and bat a couple of flies from my face.
By N J Delmas20 days ago in Fiction
Hemlock
Mr. Perigo was dead. There was no doubt in this matter. It had been established by his mourning widow, the clergyman and the undertaker. He was as dead as an inanimate object could be. As dead as a cartwheel abandoned in a canal, as a flickering candle in a haunted mansion, as a penniless poet’s inkwell. Take your pick, he was defiantly a goner.
By N J Delmasabout a month ago in Fiction
