FANTASTIC TALES FOR FREE

PART 12

The whispering suddenly stopped – for one reason or another – and after a few seconds, I willed myself to open my eyes. Everything looked perfectly normal. The only sight my eyes could see were the tombstones glistening in the moonlight and, leaning against one of them, my odd companion contemplating his cigarette butt with a melancholic look on his face. I stood up and staggered over to him, short of breath. I’m sure my face must have been livid – worthy of a prize in a Halloween makeup contest – but he made no comment.

– So son, he said simply, what do you think?

I didn’t take the time to answer, I was too busy trying to sort things out in my mind. Okay, the guy had scared the hell out of me. But what had I dealt with, exactly? An auditory hallucination? Ridiculous. A ventriloquism number? Impossible. A hidden camera gag? Ah! Ah! What else? There was, of course, one last hypothesis, but I refused to seriously consider it…

The grave digger stood in front of me, patiently waiting for me to stop thinking and to start articulating something, and after a moment, I managed to do just that:

– For goodness’ sake, what was that?

I stared deep into his eyes, expecting him to burst out laughing, but he didn’t even flinch. I nodded, as if I had understood, when in fact, I didn’t understand anything at all, and I took the time to clap slowly, with the gravity imposed by the circumstances:

– Well done, you really got me with your little trick. Now, if you don’t mind…

I was troubled, troubled and insulted to have fallen into this weirdo’s trap. Until then, it was always me who tricked people on Halloween. It was humiliating, really. I turned on my heels, ready to make an exit in as dignified a manner as I could.

– Wait son, it isn’t over, the grave digger calmly said.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, not really knowing what to expect. Surely the guy wasn’t going to pull the whispers trick again, was he?

I felt an icy hand on my shoulder, and I spun round screaming: a whitish cloud floated in front of my eyes for a few moments before dissipating in the night.

– You scared him, son, the grave digger commented.

Me??? What had I done??? Hey! Wasn’t there a slight role confusion here? And even if I was in the wrong, who or what had I frightened exactly?

– Don’t move, let him come back.

(Go to PART 13)

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All rights reserved
(C) 2015-16 Jérémie Cassiopée

Illustration: Marzena Pereida Piwowar

Translation from the original French: Emilie Watson-Couture and the author.

Do you like Harry Potter, Oksa Pollock or Bobby Pendragon? "The Greatest Scare of My Life" is just as good, but radically different! Give it a go, and you won't be disappointed

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