Seaside Gothic

Fiction | Poetry | Nonfiction

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The Murder House

The Murder House by Seb Reilly

I’m on the trail of a killer. I’m in a suburban part of Broadstairs, on the Kent coast, driving slowly to catch a glimpse of the murder house before I pull up to take a closer look.

A longhaired cat walks brazenly into the road and stops. I wait for it to cross but it only steps aside, giving me just enough room to pass. I turn the corner and park a little way down the adjacent street, between the streetlamps where there is less light, and wait a moment in my car. I check the address again, though I know it by heart, then open the door and step out.

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