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The Beautiful Story of a Hideous Man
The Beautiful Story of a Hideous Man
The Beautiful Story of a Hideous Man
Ebook83 pages2 hours

The Beautiful Story of a Hideous Man

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"Madness is a point of view" says Román, protagonist of this short novel, where madness and truth are intertwined and sepatated by a slender line of sanity.

in "The Beautiful Story of a Hideous Man" we can't know for sure where we are: in the twisted mind of a cruel killer or in a terrible reality told by his own victims. 

 

LanguageEnglish
PublisherMicky Bane
Release dateMay 12, 2016
ISBN9781507140765
The Beautiful Story of a Hideous Man

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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    The story takes you through different episodes of one man's universe, and those episodes float in the story line in enigmatic ways. The borders between moral and insanely disturbing are blurred, making it a challenging an enjoyable lecture. What I liked the most is the fact that the protagonist makes you stand with him throughout the whole story, regardless of your feelings towards his actions. In the end, what is wrong and what is right remains a pertinent question.

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The Beautiful Story of a Hideous Man - Micky Bane

PREFACE

––––––––

I am grateful to all those who decided to follow me in this short but crazy passage where madness shows its worst face.

Thank you a lot.

M.B.

Lima, 8th of May 2014

i

PART I: A FRIGHT

Did something happen to you? Lucía asks with concern. I don’t answer. I remain seated in my place without looking at her.

Listen... You’re acting weird lately, are you going to write something today?

I keep silent. She can’t see my expression because the hair is covering my eyes.

For God’s sake, Román! She insists, like a stubborn mosquito. Her voice becomes shrilling and starts to get on my nerves.

I then grab the bag at my feet and take out a revolver. One bullet in the barrel; hard to achieve, for sure.

I spent two years studying in that college. At that point I was already bored of the same routine faces that did no more than showing frivolous emotions. I was sick of watching them waste their lives. Including those who only cared for studying... Everybody is wasting their time.

Lucía opens her eyes with such horror that I end up feeling tenderness for her expression. It’s an old revolver but it works perfectly. It was easier to get the gun than the bullet that goes inside.

A guy was always seated behind me; he never got involved with anybody. I could never remember his name. Even without having eyes on the back of my head I felt him rise as a reflex move after seeing my gun. Before he could say anything, I shot him in the forehead.

The noise of the shot produced the expected response. The turbulent roar of voices asking What on Earth could that be? The poor guy’s body crashes on the floor like any other inanimate object, splashing brain slices in the impact, bathed in a big pool of blood.

I look around. Lucía and the rest have vanished. I move towards the window and look down, to the first floor. A horrified group of students is looking at me with giant eyes.

Inside that group I see the person for whom I prepared the bullet. But I won’t kill her, just frighten. Oh, but the impulse to shoot that guy who was sitting behind me was just so irresistible.

I go down the stairs with the gun in my hands still hot. As I advance, they are moving away from me, as if I were leprous. The guardian and the cleaning guy are looking at me really impressed. It couldn’t be any different, they always liked me.

I pass the laboratory and meet Cecilia. We agreed that she would give me a box of bullets from her father, who is a policeman. She doesn’t move as she sees me. I knew what would come from the beginning.

I receive the box from her hands, prepare the revolver and charge it with six bullets. Everybody is a witness, everybody runs away, drowning in terror. Nobody manages to catch me. My victim, the one that I wanted to scare from the beginning, stands still near the wall that separates the courtyard from the garden. By her side there is a guy with a laptop in his hands. He wants to play the hero, positioning himself in front of her.

I shoot him in the chest.

I hear sirens outside. The principle’s thumping voice sounds in my head: Román, please, let’s keep calm. I am calm. Very calm. My face has the same calm expression as always. Cecilia is by my side; she laughs, then says:

What a dickhead, why interfere? she turns her gaze from the dead body and looks at the pale girl. Román, shoot her, she’s right in front of you!

I turn my sight slowly towards Cecilia and smile. You have always been impulsive, Ceci. This rush of yours has always been genuine, never fake, and this is why I chose you.

The person whom I direct my gun towards is crying. Her knees are bending.

Please don’t kill me! She begs me, with her eyes splashed with black tears.

I won’t kill you and you know it.

Please, I would do whatever you want, just don’t kill me!

How interesting. When one figures out that they are about to die, they are ready to fulfil the murderer’s wishes, perhaps as an inkling of hoping not to die. But no, this is not the case.

On her knees in front of me, she watches as some classmates are moving downstairs the body of that guy whose name I could never remember. She yells in horror.

Goddamit! Kill her, you twat! Cecilia demands vehemently.

I don’t pay attention to her; I turn my arm in her direction without watching and shoot. Unintentionally, the bullet pierced her eye. Too bad... she was pretty.

After the shoot I hear several voices yelling. The sirens’ noise is getting stronger; in front of me there’s a shadow that doesn’t have any more tears in her eyes.

A murmur glimpsed in the crowd: "I always knew that this dude was strange... they say he’s an emo, that he likes cutting himself".

I smile.

I can’t stand that word. An emo only hurts himself, not the ones around him. I quickly look through the crowd and shoot again, without knowing who talked. The body of a guy I have seen before fell down. Without foreseeing it, I hit the jugular. The blood was pumping like from a broken pipe.

The police arrive. They order me to put down the gun. I lift my arm and drop slowly the gun on the floor, without taking my eyes off of the eyes of that person in front of me, who was crying like a kid... she was out of breath.

An officer knocks me down facing the floor, puts his knee over my back and handcuffs me. They hit me. I thought this only happened in movies. They bring me back on my feet by dragging me by the arms. I notice that some curious faces are watching the scene stunned, from the windows and the stairs.

Don’t worry, Román, the officer tells me sarcastically, "you’ll spend some time inside, you’ll

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