The Town Named Bilmo

Foreword: Hello, my name is Joseph Roy Wright. I am a Self-Published author of three novels. The Town Named Bilmo is my third book. The book is set in Wales, however the town itself is heavily inspired by my home town of Runcorn (which is in England). I post the first chapter here for some feedback and as exposure, but mainly because I plan on one day becoming a full time writer. Please feel to let me know on Social Media what you guys think of my writing and if this book (or any other I have written) interests you. I hope you enjoy this first chapter and that it peaks your interest. Thanks for reading. Links to my social media and books will be posted at the bottom of this article.

Synopsis: Bucky Cartwright travels to the mysterious Welsh town of Bilmo, to escape his old life. He soon discovers that he may be able to run away from his past, but he cannot run away from himself, as old demons come back to haunt him, in this creepy Welsh town. In this book, you will witness his slow descent into madness, as Bucky's worst nightmares become a reality. Soon enough horrifying manifestations from his tormented mind conjure, as Bilmo is a town that unleashes all your darkest fears into the world! It is a town that Bucky must desperately escape, before his sanity ultimately breaks. Will Bucky Cartwright escape the town named Bilmo? Or is it his destiny to suffer eternally?

Chapter 1:

It rains lightly and it is a cold night. Fog rises from the ground slowly, covering the village of Bilmo in a blanket of white mist. A single young man dressed in a grey hoodie and blue track suit walks through the derelict town, alone and spooked by the lonesome atmosphere. A full moon is high in the night sky and it has a white shine that casts dark shadows across the road and pavement he walks on. A sudden beam of yellow light shines through the thick fog and the low roar of a motor running can be heard, as it approaches, the man runs onto the side of the road to allow the rusty red pick up truck to pass, he turns to watch as the truck disappears into the mist behind him like a ghost. He wanders further into this foggy old town and is awestruck by the Victorian esque buildings and houses that stand tall on either side of the road. Eventually, he comes across a small pub with stained glass windows, he can see an orange glow emitting from within and can hear the faint sounds of a song playing and perhaps even the sounds of a few men talking. He looks up at the sign hanging off the building's wall and reads; "Y Giât" underneath, there is a faded painting of a golden gate upon the wooden sign. Out of the cold and into a haven of warmth, the man enters the pub and is presented with a 1970's song about a Ghost Town that quietly echoes from the juke box at the back of the pub and the sight of a single bartender cleaning the round tables and an old man drinking a pint of what appears to be bitter. The old man is sat on his own in the corner of this rather large pub, he has a short grey beard and a lengthy haircut to match, he wears farming clothes, a newsboy cap and a brown leather jacket with his jeans tucked into a pair of green wellies. The bartender is quite slim and slick looking, he appears to be in his thirties and has black hair that is greying at the sides, he has a rough looking face and seems unfriendly, his uniform looking a little worn out. The old man however seems wise and gentle and smiles slightly at the newcomer who has entered the bar. The Bartender sighs a little and gets behind the bar, the young man approaches.

'Beth alla I ei wneud?' the bartender asks, the young man stares blankly.

'I'm sorry, what?' The young man asks, the bartender chuckles.

'You're English?' he muses, the young man chews his lip.

'I said, "what can I do?" The bartender repeats himself, the young man searches the bar with his eyes, looking for a drink to choose, most of what he reads is in Welsh, but he eventually sees something he is familiar with and orders that British lager.

'Right then...' The bartender pours him the drink and hands it over, before turning around to clean the shelves behind him.

'I'm new in town.' The young man smiles, but the bartender ignores him and he feels a little embarrassed.

'Ah never you mind him, aye.' The farmer says to the young Englishman, the young man pulls up his pint and walks over to the table where the old man is sitting, he sits down on a chair facing him. The old man sips his bitter and exhales deeply.

'So, what is a young Englishman like you doing in a little old Welsh village like Bilmo, aye?' He asks.

'Well, it is a bit of a long story... simply put, I needed a change, to get away from it all.'

'Ah I see, Where you from then?'

'Liverpool.' The young man smiles.

'Ah you're a Scouser then!' The farmer laughs and chugs his pint. 'Still though... why Bilmo? we're just a little old village, nothing much going on round her, I can tell you that.'

'I guess I just needed to get away from the city, the loud streets, busy crowds everywhere and so on. That and... well...'

'Well what?' The farmer asks out of curiosity. The young man pauses.

'My wife died.' He smiles weakly and rolls his eyes down to his pint of lager and takes a small gulp, the farmer scratches his ear.

'Ah, I'm sorry to hear that...'

'It is ok... and thanks. I've been planning on moving out here for a while now, not specifically Bilmo, but somewhere far away and out in the country, far from anything like the city.'

'Ah I see, I ain't from round here myself, if am being honest. I've come from Rhyl, even out there in that sea side town I felt it too busy at times. So, I came out here, used my savings and bought myself a nearby farm I have. Been here nearly a year or so I'd say. Not many stay round here long I hear. Quite strange if you ask me.'

'Anyway pal, never catched your name?' The farmer asks.

'The lads up north called me Bucko, but my full name is Bucky.'

'Ah, Bucko aye? they call me Caddock, mostly because... well, that's me name.' The farmer laughs and Bucko joins in.

The two of them drink together more and as the night goes on, the conversation turns sour as Caddock begins to pry more into Bucko's past, however Bucko doesn't seem to mind, that is however until Caddock asks him; "How did your wife die?" By this time of night they were still the only two customers in the entire pub and the bartender had shut the juke box off and was starting to tidy up and place the chairs on top of the tables.

'It is getting late, looks like this place is closing up for the night, I better get going...' Bucko quickly changed the subject and attempted to leave the bar politely, but Caddock was insistent.

'Oh no, don't leave, Bucko... the pub don't close for another hour or two...' Caddock pleaded and Bucko turned to face the bartender who smiled wickedly and replied with; "Don't you worry, Bucko. I'm just fixing the place up for tomorrow, we're still open til 1 o'clock." The bartender laughed and Bucko looked at the time on his watch and seen that it was only eleven.

'Look Bucko, I'll even buy you your next pint, on me, what do you say, aye? What else you going to do in Bilmo tonight?' Caddock asked rhetorically and Bucko had to agree, this village did seem rather dead and he knew he'd have a hard time falling asleep on his own tonight, he wasn't tired yet and perhaps maybe he could go for a few more beers, Caddock had seemed alright up until this point and all the while, the bartender now stood in front of him pouring out a nice cold pint of lager, that did look delicious.

'Alright... I'll tell you what happened...' Bucko reluctantly agreed.

The Town Named Bilmo is now available on Amazon.

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Read The Town Named Bilmo on Amazon: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B08XQT2CKZ/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i1