Strange Dominions: a collection of paranormal short stories (short story books) by Calvert David

Author:Calvert, David [Calvert, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: short stories
Publisher: short stories collection
Published: 2012-04-18T18:30:00+00:00

Mind's Eye

The coroner’s ‘Accidental Death’ verdict had done nothing to assuage Sam Phelps’ conviction that his mother’s untimely demise was as a direct result of suicide, and that the brutal, mental indignities she had endured at the hands of his sadistic father were the cause of it. Nor was the teenager under any illusion as to who would be the target of his father’s perverse attentions now she was out of the way.

With cold dispassion he peered into the open grave, his gaunt expression betraying little of the contempt he harboured for its occupant, a weak and foolish woman, a congenital victim, woefully incapable of withstanding the harsh realities life had apportioned her.

He mocked inwardly at the pathetic soul now being laid to rest. ‘God, how dumb could you be? Didn’t it ever once enter that addled brain that the sick son-of-a-bitch is incapable of even the slightest degree of affection?’

He looked out across a sea of faces assembled at the graveside and was met by the cold and steady gaze of his mother’s tormentor. Unlike her, Sam was under no illusion that some shred of decency still inhabited the man. It was a belief that had served him well, and which had protected him from the mental cruelties Victor had visited upon him in the past. He had come to learn that love and affection were weaknesses to be exploited. Any emotions that threatened to expose this weakness, therefore, were swiftly subjugated. They were, after all, Victor’s very lifeblood; the perversity from which he took his pleasure.

Mercifully, the timeworn platitudes of the ageing priest came to an end, and Sam picked up a handful of earth and threw it casually into the open grave before turning to leave.

A brawny hand clamped onto his shoulder. “And where do you think you’re off to, boy?” Victor asked.

His pretext that he promised his aunt he would visit after the service, because she had been unable to attend owing to illness, was met with suspicion. Victor had no recollection whatsoever of the boy having mentioned it to him, though what with the funeral arrangements and all it was possible it had slipped his mind. Reluctantly, he gave his consent and cautioned his son to return home at a reasonable hour - a warning Sam knew was not to be taken lightly.

An overriding sense of purpose urged Sam on past his aunt’s cottage and beyond the environs of the village. Ill though she was, he saw little use in calling in on the retired psychologist, since her usefulness had long outlived its purpose.

The doting, old bird had never once suspected the true reason for his visit earlier that month, hadn’t even noticed the missing book he had taken from her study. Within its pages lay the means of assuaging his all-consuming hatred for his father and the terrible nightmares that had plagued him from infancy.

Although he knew what violence he would like to do to his father, Sam was under no illusions that he was capable of such an act.

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