Fear E-Book

Davy Artero

• Herausgeber: Editions des Tourments
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Seitenzahl: 42

Beschreibung

Discover the best Davy Artero's short stories !

Welcome to Davy Artero's terrifying world. His short stories cannot leave you indifferent. If unfortunately, you have nightmares after having read them, do not worry, it is quite normal...
These four short stories are taken from Sombres Nouvelles (9782372240987) ; Davy would like to thank his friends who have translated his dark stories...!
- Pure Ones and A Winter Evening, translated by Dexter Peters: Trinidadian ( Purs and Un soir d'hiver)
- Not Cool, translated by Luc B. ( Pas gentil)
- Last Waltz, translated by Jean-Christophe Malevil ( La dernière valse)

Nothing scares you? Really ? Maybe you'll change your mind after reading these four horrifying and successful short stories, finally translated !

EXTRACT

Steve turned pale on seeing the tip of the ice pick get bigger in front of his eye. He would like to scream but he was stricken with Fear.
Hector knows what he’s got to do. Put the end piece between the eyelid and the eye, place the pick diagonally then hit it sharply so that the rod thrusts in about 7cm before making him run in semi-circles, a matter of thinning out the frontal lobe, which is the cause for his son’s cowardly behaviour.
A huge inspiration. A lot of groaning. Then, suddenly, an ear-piercing shout of pain. Blood was flowing from his eye and was running down the metallic rod.
'It’s almost over. I only have to…'
Hector cannot finish the long speech which was supposed to reassure his son. He feels a violent impact on the top of his skull and his sight instantly faded away. He is brutally thrown on his side and finds himself stretched out on the tiles.
The blows kept coming in. He doesn’t hear them and doesn’t feel any pain. An opaque veil makes its way in the nothingness, then he started to see again. He slowly lifts up his head and frightfully notices that it wasn’t he who was receiving the blows, but his son.
Fabienne is there, smiling and standing next to the chair. She hits Steve’s head with the pot, again and again.
'Darling, stop!'
Fabienne didn’t stop. It even seemed to Hector that her smile grew larger.
Hector painfully gets up and makes his way towards his wife. She must immediately stop that. It’s not her fault. She didn’t have any bad intentions. Perhaps, she thought that hector needed help. She must stop hitting her only child. He alone can lift their image, to finally become someone respectable and respected in the family.
'Stop !' Hector orders Fabienne grabbing her hands before she brings it down again on their son.

Leseprobe

Davy Artero

FEAR

Pure Ones

'Steve, stop fidgeting.'

He looks at his kid whose feet and hands were attached to the kitchen chair. He doesn’t stop whining and moving about so he gave him a hard time. 

'Stop whining too. What I’m doing here, it’s for your own good.'

'Please daddy… Don’t force me too.'

Hector stands up and places his hand nervously on his thinning hair. Maybe, he should have taken another approach. He was putting a harness on his son before letting him know why his action wasn’t a good tactic. He must make up for his mistake and comfort him.

Listen Steve, this is just a small phase. This will all go away. Then, everything will be fine. You’ll be better than I and your grandfather ever were. We tend to be cowards in our lineage. 

All of this is finally going to stop with you.  You will be the first family member to become a real and tough man. You’ll never give up under pressure and you will no longer be a coward.

With these words, Hector thinks about several uncomfortable periods which he was afraid of confrontation. He always let himself be pushed around so as to never worsen the situation or cause a scandal. His father used to be the same way and he even created an ideology of it for himself. Giving in without truly giving up. It was his way to survive in this world of brutes. Hector had applied all of these principles for the past couple of years before noticing that it was extremely annoying and totally stupid. Only his son followed the same path and his suggestions to make him behave differently weren’t going to change anything.  Hector deduced that it wasn’t an educational problem. It was embedded in him, in the depths of his genes. He had to fix it.

'Please dad. I don’t want you to do like you did with mum.'

'That has nothing to do with it. Your mother was hysterical. Did you see her get annoyed since? Isn’t she charming and smiling every minute now?'

'Yes, she is. But…'

Steve’s words vanished sobbingly into the air. Hector sighs and kneels down again. He places his hand on Steve’s mouth to stop his jeremiads to make him listen to what he has to say.

'You just need to be still for a few seconds.'

Steve opens his eyes when Hector draws closer with the ice pick. 

'That’s good. Try to keep your eyes open so that I can…'

Steve didn’t let him finish his sentence. He managed to speak, letting out a long ear-splitting cry before moving about even more.

'What the hell, Steve!'

Hector looked at his wife who was seated around the small round kitchen table.

'Darling? Can you get me a belt?'

Fabienne inclines her head towards Hector. She smiles. A pretty fixed grin that she constantly displays since he took care of her one evening.

He had never attempted the experience before. He had only read some reports and analysed numerous patterns. Walter Freeman’s followers were multiplying on the Internet and he had found several documents boasting about the merits of this simple operation correcting behavioural errors. The transorbital lobotomy.  That was the solution for everything. Fabienne was pleasant most of the time. She would have been a perfect wife if it weren’t for those intense temper tantrums which occurred out of the blue and those of which Hector was the target. Accustomed to tolerating the blows and critics, he took them without turning a hair until that one evening where, after falling asleep, he decided that he was no longer going to be the around the clock wussy, even under his own roof.

'Darling?' Hector repeats it and notices that his wife didn’t move from her chair.

Fabienne frowns an eyebrow then stands up. She walks toward a piece of furniture in the kitchen, opens a door and makes her back to Hector with a large stainless steel pot in one hand.

She was a smiling but slightly deficient woman. This was a consequence without any major importance for Hector who prefers to have a wife, who is a bit stupid than one who is cantankerous and a lunatic.

'Well, don’t worry about it.' Before leaving the kitchen, Hector told his son that he’ll return.

Steve sniffles. He pulls on his arms and tries to lift up his legs in vain.  His father tied the rope too tightly. It was impossible to get loose.

Returning to the room, brandishing triumphantly an old leather belt, Hector says:

'So, how is our problem going to be solved!'

He stands in front of Steve before he can put up the least amount of resistance. Hector places the belt around the top of the chair and the head of his son then he locks it.

'Daddy!'