Jump scare, or laugh out loud?

Welcome back to another blog hop, with #OpenBook. Here’s this week’s prompt.

Don’t forget to click the link to see what everyone else has to say on this week’s subject. It’s at the end of my post.

Share the funniest scene you’ve written. Alternatively, the scariest scene.

Trying to pick a representative scene from nearly thirty novels is not as easy as you might think. Most of them have humour (humor?), and quite a few have scary moments.

The trick is to find one that you can read out of context and still get the emotion across.

Not only that, you also need one that doesn’t require loads of explaining to set it all up. Then there’s the subjective element, what I find funny or scary will not necessarily resonate in the same way with you.

For example, although my Andorra Pett novels are filled with humour, a lot of it is contextual and one-line style, which doesn’t lend itself to this sort of scrutiny.

Having talked myself out of funny, here’s a scary one.

It’s from the start of my thriller, I Remember Everything.

I remember the first day of this new life, it started with pain, the same way that the last day of my old life had ended.

I didn’t realise that it was a new life, not to begin with. It seemed to start only seconds after the end of what must have been my last one. In my old life, I had slipped into unconsciousness, there had been pain. Now I was awake again, the pain was still there, although it felt different.

I opened my eyes, took a deep breath, filling my lungs. Where was I? The last thing I recalled was the grin on his face, the cold, dark warehouse, the flash of a blade. Where I was now was bright and warm. And noisy; there was some soft music in the background. I could hear people talking, male and female. Most of what they were saying was indistinct, voices overlaid on voices, the music accompanied by the bleep of machinery. Was Beth here?

“What’s the time?” said one of the female voices, out of my sight. “Twenty-oh-eight,” said someone else. Who were they? We had been alone; they must be paramedics.

The lights in here were too bright for the warehouse, it looked like I had been found and taken to a hospital. The response had been impressive, it had been nineteen-forty-five when I’d got out of my car. I must be in the Emergency department. That explained the number of people around me. The noise would be the monitors, registering my pulse and vital signs. My squad would have been called as well. This was good, despite what had happened I was alive and once I got myself sorted out, I could tell them who my attacker was. I’d been looking for him in connection with a string of armed robberies, now he had another charge to add to his lengthy list of offences. OK, I’d been injured but I would recover, it would be worth it to see justice prevail.

If I’d only done things properly, this never would have happened. When I’d spotted his car outside the warehouse, I ought to have called in and waited for backup. That was my first mistake. I had known that I was in trouble as soon as I had been forced to retreat into the corner, dodging the thrusting blade until I had run out of room. But now, things were all going to work out.

There was a brief flash of light away to one side of me, it made me blink. They must be taking photographs of my injuries.

“Where am I?” I shouted. All that came out was an unformed cry.

“That’s a good pair of lungs,” someone said. Maybe, but why couldn’t I make myself understood? I was starting to get worried now.

“Perhaps it’s time for a meal,” said another voice. What were they talking about? Food was unimportant, just get me better, so I can bring him to justice. I had his name, it needed to be told.

I must have been lying down on my back, all I could see was the ceiling, the white strip lights under frosted plastic covers. I tried to move my arms, it felt like I had no control over them. My legs were the same. Had the knife stroke paralysed me? I couldn’t even lift my head.

“Here, let me,” said the first voice.

I felt myself grabbed around the waist, another hand went under my head, at the back. I was rising, my neck had no strength, it was unable to support the weight of my head. Before I knew what was happening, my face was smothered in warm flesh.

“Isn’t she a beautiful baby?” said the second voice.

That was where the panic set in. I tried to push myself away, so that I could see what was going on, my arms and legs refused to co-operate.

I howled in frustration, what had happened to me? I wasn’t a baby, never mind a girl. Less than thirty minutes ago, I’d been a twenty-seven-year-old male detective. I’d been investigating a criminal gang and I’d been stabbed by their leader. What was I doing here?

I heard a woman’s voice, she sounded tired but proud, her words defiant. “Her name is Suzan,” she said, “my baby’s name is Suzan Grace Halford.”

I hope you enjoyed that. You can find the rest of the story by clicking HERE

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I’ll be back with another post on Thursday, see you then. Meanwhile, have a great week.

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