4 complete and interpreted horror stories

A literary genre that has origins in popular folklore histories and religious texts, or terror is linked to fiction and fantasy. Two decades ago, he became popular and assumed new styles and influences.

O main I intuit these narratives and provoke emotions not read, like or half or anxious. However, some also carry existential reflections or criticisms of contemporary society.

Check out, below, 4 regretful stories from famous writers that we selected and commented on for you:

• A Shadow, Edgar Allan Poe
• Or that Lua Traz Consigo, H. P. Lovecraft
• O Homem that Adorava Flores, Stephen King
• Venha Ver or Pôr do Sol, Lygia Fagundes Telles

1. A Shadow, Edgar Allan Poe

You, that you give me, you are still among the living; More eu, that escrevo, terei from a very long party for the world you give shadows. Na verdade, strange things will be revealed, many secret things will be revealed, and many secular decor will be before these notes will remain at home. And when they are still lido, some not accredited, other because of their dúvidas, and very few of them I will find material for fertile meditations in our characters that we engrave with a stiletto of iron tabuinhas.

instagram story viewer

Or it had been a year of terror, a year of more intense sensations than or terror, sensations for as quais não ha nome na Terra. Many prodigies, many sinais have passed away, and from all sides, on land and not sea, have been widely extended to the black handles of Plague. Those, porém, who were wise, aware of two desígnios das stars, do not ignore that you céus prenunciavam ungraça; e, for mim (or grego Oino), as for others, it was evident that we reached or fim desse ninety ninety Fourth year, in that, at the entrance of Carneiro, or planet Jupiter, it faces its conjunction as a vermelho do terrível Saturn. O particular spirit two ceus, I am not deceived very much, manifested or its power only on the physical globe of Terra, but also on the souls, the thoughts and the meditations of humanity.
Uma noite, we are going to be founded on a noble palácio, a somber city chamada Ptolemais, sitting in a circle of some carafes of purple wine from Chios. Or compartment with no other entrance with a high bronze door; The porta has been molded by the artisan Corinos e, a product of skillful workmanship, dated inside. In the same way, it protects this melancholic compartment, black tapeçarias, that poupavam us to visão da Lua, das lugubrious stars and despovoados streets. More or less sentiment and a lembrança do Flagelo will not be easily expelled. Havia à nossa volta, together with us, things that I do not have to define differently, such material and spiritual clothing - a weight in the atmosphere, a feeling of abafamento, an anguish e, above all, is that terrible mode of existence that attacks nervous people when the senses are cruelly alive and awakened and hampered spiritual faculties. apathetic. Esmagava-nos a mortal weight. Estendia-se-nos hairs on our limbs, hair furniture in the living room, flaked hair from where we drank; and all the things seemed oppressed and prostrated naquele abatimento - all, except the chamas das sete iron lamps that illuminate our orgy. Stretching out in thin lights of light, they still remain, burning pale and moving; e na round ebony table where we sit, and whose brightness transforms into spelho, each um Two convivial he contemplated the paleness of his own face and restless glow, two sad eyes, two serious comrades.
Nonetheless, we compel-us to laugh, and we are going to be joyful at nossa maneira - uma maneira hysterical; and we sing the songs of Anacreonte, that we do not passam de loucura; and we drank long, much to purple do vinho we drank to purple do sangue. É that no compartment havia uma oitava personagem - or young Zoilo. Morto, extended to all or compressed and amortized, was either genius or demônio do cenário. Ai! Esse did not take part, we did not have fun: just to his physiognomy, convulsed bad hair, and you seus olhos, in that Death is only semi-extinct o fire da plague, seemed to take pela nossa alegria so much interested how many mortals are capable of taking pela alegria daqueles que tem de to die. But on the other hand, Oino, I feel the olhos do deceased fixos em me, to the truth that I am striving for I do not see the bitterness of it. expressão, and, obstinately olhando for the depths of the ebony spel, he sang aloud and sonorous the songs of the poet of Teos. Gradually, porém, or my song ceased, the echoes, rolling over the years through the black tapeçarias of the room, fading, indistinct, and vanishing.
More than I do found black tapeçarias where morria or echo da canção is erected a shadow, dark, indefinite - A shadow similar to that of Lua, when it is low, it can unravel as forms of a human body; but it was not in the shadow nem of a homem, nem of a deus, nem of nenhum to be known. E, tremendous for a moment, I do not have two repostéiros, the ficou, enfim, visível and firm, on a bronze porthole. But in the shadow it was vague, sem form, indefinite; não was in the shadow nem de um homem, nem de um deus - nem de um deus da Grécia, nem de um deus da Caldeia, nem de nenhum deus egípcio. And in the shadow of a large bronze doorway and on the arched cornice, it is mexer, it is pronouncing a word, fixing itself more and more and ending up by ficardo imóvel. E a porta em that a shadow assentava, it bem reminded me, it touches you pés do jovem Zoilo.
Nós, porém, os sete companheiros, I have seen two reposteiros in the shade, we are not looking at her from the front; Baixávamos os olhos e olhávamos always for the depths of ebony spel. Finally, eu, Oino, I ventured to pronounce some words in a low voice, and asked in the shadow of his abode or seu nome of him. And in shadow answered:
- Eu sou a Sombra, e a minha dwelling next to the Catacombs of Ptolemais, and very close to those plains: infernais that enclosed the impure channel of Charon.
So, all of us, sit down, stand up, horrified, two nossos assentos, and ali ficamos - tremulous, regretful, cheios of astonishment. The timbre of the voice of Shadow was not the timbre of the voice of an individual, but of a multitude of beings; e that voice, varying its inflexions from syllable to syllable, enchia-us confusingly you ouvidos, to imitate the familiar timbres and relatives of thousands of disappeared friends!

Edgar Allan Poe (1809 - 1849) was a notorious North American writer of Romanticism, haunted mainly by his somber texts.

Representative gives gothic literature, or author preenchia as suas works with soturnas themes such as death, or mourning and or suffering. I do not tell "A Sombra", written in 1835, or the narrator and protagonist is Oinos, um homem that has faded at a very short time.

Or entanglement is numa noite seal in that the eleva was gathered as companions, watching or body of another, victim of the plague. É notória a tension that takes everyone's account: eles sentem medo de morrer, I do not know your future destinations.

You piora when you enxergam a shade in the room. Here, a morte não é an individual figure; In their voice, they get to hear all the friends who will leave and continue to amaze that local. Isso achieves assustá-los ainda mais, já that seems to annul the hypothesis of salvação das suas almas.

2. Or that Lua Traz Consigo, H. P. Lovecraft

Odeio a lua - tenho-lhe horror - pois à times, when it illuminates family dinners and loved ones, it transforms them into strange and hateful things.
Foi during or spectral verão that to lua brightness no velho garden by where eu errava; or spectral view of narcotic flowers and undisturbed seas of folhagens that evoke extravagant and multicolored sounds. And enquanto eu caminhava satin hair corrego crystalline percebi extraordinary waves finished off by a yellow light, like Be those placid waters fossem dragged by irresistible currents in direction to other oceans to além from this world. Silent and soft, fresh and funereal, as amaldiçoadas waters pela lua corriam to an unknown destiny; Enquanto, two caramanchões à margem, white flowers of lotus detach-it is added to a no vento opiate da night and I fell desperate na running, rodopiando em um torvelinho horrível by sob or arc da ponte entalhada e olhando behind com a sinistra resignação de serenos dead roasts.
And enquanto eu ran ao long da margem, smelling sleepy flowers with my pés relapsos and each time more faded medium hair from unknown coisas and pela attração exercised dead coarse hair, percebi que o jardim não tinha fim ao luar; pois onde during or day there were walls, uncovered new panoramas of trees and paths, flowers and shrubs, stone idols and pagodes, and illuminated stream curves for além das margens verdejantes and grotesque pontes de stone. And the lips give them the dead faces of the lotus faziam sad supplications and ask me to follow you It transformed into a river and drainage, into the swamps of balouçantes reeds and shimmering areia praias, not the coast of a vast sea sem nome.
We sea the hateful brilhava, and warm the silent waves are strange fragrances Pairavam. He, when I saw the faces of the lotus disappear, anseei by networks so that the eu can capture them and let them learn the segregated ones that he had entrusted to him. But when it moves in the direction of the Ocidente and the stagnant sea refluxes for the longest period of the gloomy border, I could see about In the light of the ancient coruchéus that the waves that reveal to me and radiant white columns with festoons of green algae. And, knowing that all the dead were gathered in that submerged place, I shuddered and I did not want to fare more like the faces of lotus.
Contudo, yearning to see a long black condor descending the firmament to rest in a huge lake, I felt a questioning and asking questions about those who made me live. It was or that the questioned eu teria was at a distance that separated us not so vast, but it was too long and dry I could see it when it approached the gigantic recife.
Then I watched as I was going to light the day that a few years came down, and I saw the Coruchéus shining, the towers and the roofs of the dripping city of death. And enquanto eu observava, minha nostrils tentavam to block the pestilence of all the dead of the world; pois, em verdade, naquele ignored and skewed place gather all the meats two cemitérios so that you turgid see me marinhos enjoy and devour or banquet.
Fearless, a lua pairava logo acima desses horrors, but the turgid worms do not need lua to feed. And enquanto eu observes the waves that denounce the agitation two vermes la Embaixo, pressenti um novo calafrio vindo from longe, from place to wave or condor voara, as minha meat houvesse sense or horror before meus olhos or vissem.
Tampouco a minha shivering meat sem motive, because when you stand up we perceive that a maré was very low, leaving to show a part of the huge recife whose contour is in sight. And when I saw that the recife was a black basaltic chorus of a horrifying icon whose monstrous front arose in the middle of the years baços raios do luar e cujos feared helmets deviam to touch or fetid mud to Kilometers of depth, I shouted and shouted as if that face emerged from the waters, and that you were submerged in sight, you tell me that a malignant and traiçoeira lua amarela disappear.
And to escape to this coisa medonha, atirei-me sem hesitar nas putrid waters where, between walls covered with seaweed and submerged streets, you turgid vermes marinhos devour the dead of the world.

Howard Phillips Lovecraft (1890 - 1937), or North American author who found hairs serious monsters and fantastic figures, influencing many later works, combining elements of horror and fiction scientific

The text that we reproduce here was written in 1922 and is translated by Guilherme da Silva Braga. Os Melhores Contos by H.P. Lovecraft. More brief than most of his narratives of him, the story was created from um author's dream, a technique that was common in its production.

Narrated na first pessoa, or told fala about you mysteries that a noite hides. Or protagonist, sem nome, passed through an infinite garden and began to enlighten spirits and rostos daqueles that já faleceram. More adiante, he is confronted as his own world two mortals.

Unable to deal with what he just saw, he ends up diving to death. Assim, this é um bom example do cosmic horror That marks your writing, ou seja, the incomprehension and despair of the human being while being segregated from the universe.

3. O Homem that Adorava Flores, Stephen King

Not the beginning of a night in May 1963, a young man with my bag was energetically going up to Terceira Avenida in New York. Either it was soft and beautiful, or it gradantly darkened from blue to beautiful and quiet violet at twilight. There are people who loved the metropolis and those were the days of the night that motivated us that love. All of you who were standing at the doors of confectionaries, laundries and restaurants seemed to be surprised. Uma velha empurrando two sacks of vegetables num velho carrinho de bebê sorriu for the young or the birthday:
- Oi, cute!
O young man rewarded with a slight sorriso and ergueu to me num aceno. She kept walking, thinking: He is dull.

O young tinha that appearance. He wears a light gray theme, a slightly frosted little gravata, not colarinho, whose botão was unbuttoned. He has dark hair, cut short. Peel clear, olhos light-blue. It was not a striking face, but a soft spring night, an avenue, in May 1963, the era cute and velha refletiu with instantaneous and twelve nostalgia that na spring qualquer pessoa can be cute... It is estiver indo às pressas to find-it eats a person of seus dreams to jantar and, perhaps, to depois dance. Spring is the only season in which nostalgia never seems to turn bitter and velha follows her path Satisfied for having complied or rapacious and happy for having paid or complied with me acene.
O young man, he crossed Rua 66 walking at a few steps and like the same slight smile on our lips. Na metade do quarteirão was a velho next to a surrado carrinho de mão cheio de flores - whose predominant color was or yellow; a festa amarela de junquilhos e crocos. O velho also tinha cravos and some stove roses, na maioria amarelas e brancas. He ate a dozen and a voluminous transistorized radio balanced through no canto do carrinho.
Or the radio spread news of the ruins that no one had ever seen: an assassin who killed the victims of martelo and was still on the loose; John Fitzgerald Kennedy declared that the situation of a small Asian country called Vietnã (which the announcer pronounced "Vaitenum"), deserved to be observed with attention; o corpse of a woman not identified as retired from the East River; um júri de cidadãos ceased to pronounce um manda-chuva do crime, na campanha moved by the municipal authorities against or trafficking of toxins; The Soviets Tinham exploded a nuclear bomb. Nothing bad seemed real, nothing bad seemed important. O ar was smooth and gummy. Two homens with the bellies of beer drinkers were wearing a padaria, playing nicely and enjoying each other. In spring I shuddered at the edge of the verão e, na metropole, or verão e a estação dos sonhos.
O jovem passou pelo carrinho de flores e o som das news ruins ficou para trás. He hesitou, olhou above his shoulder, parou to think for a moment. He fed me no bag of pallet and beat once again something that was inside. For a moment, his face seems intrigued, lonely, quase harassed. Then, to withdraw my bag, he reaffirmed a previous expression of enthusiastic expectation.
He returned to the carrinho de flores, sorrindo. He would bring some flowers for her, which he would spend.
He loves to see you olhos dela faiscarem de surpresa e prazer when he has something present - coisinhas simples, because he was long overdue to be rich. Uma caixa de bombons. Uma pulseira. One time, he was a duzia de laranjas from Valência, because he knew that they were more preferred by Norma.

- Meu jovem amigo - saudou or seller of flowers ao ver or homem de terno cinzento voltar, running os olhos hair rapier exposto no carrinho.

Or seller of over sixty-eight years; She wears a surrado sweater cinzento de tricô and a boné macio to despeito da noite morna. Seu face of him was a map of rugas, you olhos soaked. A cigarette lhe tremia between your fingers. Contudo, he was also scared of what it was like to be young in spring - young man with a dull young man who ran everywhere. Normally, the expressão no face of the flower seller was azeda, but agora ele sorriu um pouco, assim How would you laugh at Velha that empurrava like that you buy not baby carriage, because that raptor was really a case obvious. Cleaning twelve dozen farelos in a long sweater, he thought: This rapacious estivesse doente, certainly or not CTI.

- How much do you eat flowers? - indagou or jovem.

- I prepare-lhe um belo buquê for a dollar. Those roses are são de estufa, by isso um pouco mais faces. Seventy cents each amu. I sell-lhe meia duzia for three dollars and melo.

- Faces - comentou or raptor. - Nothing is cheap, meu young friend. Sua mãe never lhe ensinou isso?

O young sorriu.

- Maybe you have mentioned something with respect.
- Sure. Of course she ensinou. Dou-lhe meia duzia of roses: duas vermelhas, duas amarelas and duas brancas. Não possa fazer melhor que isso, posso? I placed some raminhos de cipreste and some folhas de avenca - elas adoram. Optimal. Ou preference or purchase for one dollar?
- Elas? - perguntou or rapacious, ainda sorrindo.
- Meu jovem amigo - disse or seller of flowers, playing or cigar na sarjeta and giving back or sorriso -, em maio, no one buys flowers for himself. Is a national law, do you understand or what do I want to say?

O rapacious, I thought about Norma, about her happy and surprised eyes, about twelve smiles, and I wiggled slightly to the head.

- He thought I understand, by sinal.
- Of course you understand. Or what did you tell me, okay?
- Bem, o que você acha?
- Vou-lhe dizer o que acho. Pray! Conselhos ainda são free, não são?

O raptor returned to grieve and say:

- He thought it was the only free thing left in the world.
- Power of absolute certainty disso - declarou or seller of flowers. Muito bem, meu young friend. They are forem flowers for your mother, light for her or bouquet. Some junquilhos, some crocos, some lrios-do-vale. She will not destroy you, saying: "Oh, my filho, you adore the flowers, but quanto custaram? Oh, it's very expensive. Could it be that you don't even know that you shouldn't waste your money? "

O jovem jogou a cabeça para trás e riu. Or flower seller continued:

- But he forem for his little girl, he is very different, meu filho, and you know very well. Light-lhe roses and the não will be transformed into a bookkeeper, understand? Pray! Ela vai hug you hair pescoço e ...
- Levarei as roses - disse or raptor. Então, foi instead of the flower seller laugh. You two homens who jogavam nickel olharam for the sorriram.
- Hey, garoto! - chamou um deles. - Do you want to buy a cheap aliança de casamento? I will sell to minha... I don't want more.

O young sorriu, corando with the roots of two dark hair. The flower vendor collected six stove roses, arranged them, borrifou-as with water, and embrulhou-as with a conical pacote.
- Hoje à noite or tempo will be exactly as you want - advertised or radio. - Tempo bom e agreeable, temperature by volta dos vinte e um graus, perfect to go up to the terrace and to the stars, it is called for a romantic type. Take advantage, Great New York, take advantage!
Or flower seller embroidered with paper embroidered with rubber band and aconselhou or rapaz a dizer à namorada that a little bit of sugar added to the water in a jar of roses would serve to keep them fresh for more tempo.
- I will direct to her - promise or young person handing the seller of flowers a note of five dollars.
- Obrigado.
- É o meu serviço, meu jovem amigo - responder or seller of flowers, delivering a rapacious or piece of a dollar and meio. Seu sorriso of him became a little tristonho:
- Beije-a for mim.
No radio, the Four Seasons come to sing "Sherry". O raptor continued to go up to the avenue, you are open and excited, bem alert, olhando not so much ao seu redor for the life that flowed through Terceira Avenida, more for the interior and the future, na expectation. In the meantime, certain things have caused it to be impressed: a young woman flushes a baby with a carrinho, or a face of a child comically laced with sorvete; uma garotinha polishing corda and singing: "Betty and Henry at the top of the tree, SE BEIJANDO! First see me or love, depois or casamento e la vem Henry as a baby not carrinho, empurrando! "Duas women talk to each other in front of a laundry, exchanging information about pregnancy smoke. Um group of homens olhava pela showcase by uma loja de ferragens for uma imensa TV a cores com uma price tag of four algarisms - or Aparelho showed a baseball game and the players seemed green. Um de them tinha cor de morango and the New York Mets were beating the Phillies fight contagem from six to a last tempo.
O rapacious prosseguiu, carrying the flowers, I know that there are two pregnant women in front of the laundry tinham stopped momentarily talking and fitavam like olhos dreamers when he passed by like embrulho; or time to receive flowers will end up very much for them. He also does not perceive or young traffic guard who stops cars at the corner of Terceira Avenida com to Rua 69 to cross it; The guard was noive and acknowledged expressing sonhadora in the physiognomy of the predator because of the image that he did not spell out a beard, where he has been observing that same expression lately. We do not perceive the two teenagers who will cross with the opposite direction and depois let go of risadinhas.
He will stop at the corner of Rua 73 and go directly. A street was a little darker than the others, flanked by houses transformed into apartment buildings, with Italian restaurants we were spoiled for choice. Three quarteirões adiante, a baseball game on the street continues to liven up in the evening light. O young man não chegou até lá; depois de adar meio quarteirão, he entered numa travessa estreita.
Agora as stars tinham emerged no céu, flickering slightly; Across it was dark and shadowy, with vague silhouettes of lixo cans. O young man was sozinho, agora... não, não totally. Um undulating watercress soou in twilight averted e ele franziu a testa. It was a love song from a cat and isso not at all cute.
She was more wandering and consulting. We will be missing fifteen to this end and at any moment Norma... Then, he noticed, I saw quintal hair in the direction of him, wearing blue-marinho compressed leggings and a marinheiro blouse that fizeram or heart of rapacious doer. It was always a surprise I saw-the skin for the first time, always a delicious shock - she seemed so young.
Agora, or sorriso le brilhou - radiant. She walked more depressa.

- Norma! - chamou ele.
Ela ergueu os olhos e sorriu, more... when she approached or smiled at her murchou. O sorriso do rapaz also tremeu um little and ele ficou momentarily restless. O face above the marinheiro blouse he seems suddenly fuzzy. It was going dark... would he be deceived? Certainly not. It was Norma.

- Eu trouxe flores para você - disse ele, happy and relieved, delivering-lhe or embrulho. Ela or incarou for a moment, sorriu - and I will return the flowers.
- Very obrigada, but he is deceived - she declared. - Meu nome é ...
- Norma - sussurrou ele. And she threw or hammered it out short of the bag do palletó, wave it or keep it for the whole time.
- Elas são para você, Norma... always foi for you... tudo for you.

She recuou, or face a diffuse white circle, at the mouth of a black opening, or of dread - it was not Norma, but Norma has been morrera ten years ago. E não fazia differentiates. Because he yelled and hit him like a hammer to conter or yell, to kill or yell. And when she desferiu to martelada, or embrullo de flores caiu-lhe da outra mão, opened-se and spread vermelhas roses, yellow and Brancas perto das amassadas cans of lixo onde os cats faziam um alienated love not dark, screaming of love, screaming, Screaming.
I hit him like a hammer and she didn't scream, but she could have been yelled because it wasn't Norma, none of them was Norma, and he hit, hit, hit like a hammer. She was not Norma and because of this, she hit like a hammer, like she was five times before.
We know how much time you have, the guard or the martelo de volta no bag of pallet and recuou for the longest time dark shadow extended with stones of the calçamento, for the longe of roses, backs of the cans of lixo. He deu meia-volta e saiu da travessa estreita. It was dated noite, agora. Baseball players tinham turned home. There are blood stains on her skin, they will not appear because of the dark. Não no dark daquela late spring night. Or not the não was Norma but he knew how it was his own nome of her. It was... it was... Love.
He chamava-se love and perambulava pelas ruas dark because Norma or waited. I would find him. Someday soon.
He began to laugh. I have been walking with agility when I descended to Rua 73. A house of meia-idade seated us degraus of prédio where he morava observedou-o pass from head taken to one side, olhar distant, a slight smile we lips. Depois que ele passou, a mulher perguntou:

- Why do you never fear that appearance again?
- Hem?
- Nothing - disse ela.
But he observed that the young man in a gray suit disappear in the slip of the night and reflect that there was something more beautiful than in spring, it was or love two young people.

Awarded as one of the two most important authors of contemporary horror, Stephen King (1947) is a writer North-American of great international success that also writes works of suspense and scientific fiction.

A narrative that we escort face part of Shadows da Noite (1978), to his first collection of stories by him. Nela, we found a young and anonymous protagonist who walks around the streets like muffled countenance.

When you see a homem selling flowers, he buys a present for the woman he is waiting for. Ao long of everything or text, we are perceiving or how much Norma loves and anseia or reencontro. Not so, when she approaches, we expectations are subverted.

It is about another person, who the protagonist kills with a martelo. We discover, in this way, that ele é um assassino em series: She has killed five women, because she did not find her beloved in nenhuma of them.

4. Venha Ver or Pôr do Sol, Lygia Fagundes Telles

She climbed up to the tortuous slope. As she advances, the houses are becoming rare, modest houses with backsides are symmetry and illhated in vacant lots. No meio da rua sem calçamento, cover here and there for a mato rasteiro, some crianças brincavam de roda. A weak childish song was the only note alive in the quiet of the afternoon.
He awaits him on the side of a tree. Esguio and lean, wearing a long blue-marinho blouse, curled and unkempt hair, he has a jovial boy of a student.

- Minha dear Raquel. Ela carou-o, seria. And she olhou for your own sapatos.
- Damn it. Only you inventoried and I found a number of places these days. What an idea, Ricardo, what an idea! I have to descend from the long taxi, jamais ele chegaria here at the top.
The riu between malicious and innocent.

- Jamais? I thought she was dressed in sportswear and now nessa elegância appears to me! When you walk with me, use a sapatões de sete léguas, lembra? Foi to tell me isso that you want me to go up here? - Perguntou ela, saving the luvas na bag. She threw a cigarette. - Hein ?!
Ah, Rachel... - e ele tomou-bareback arm. Você, this is cute. And he smokes a few cigarettes pilantras, blue and gold... I swear that I have to see all this beauty once again, feel this perfume. Então? Fiz wrong?
He could have chosen another place, no? - Abrandara to voice. - What is that? A cemetery?

He turned upside down or the wall was ruined. He indicated as olhar or portão de ferro, eaten peel ferrugem.

- Abandoned cemetery, meu anjo. Alive and dead, they will all desert. Nem os ghosts sobraram, olha aí like so criancinhas brincam sem half acrecentou betting as crianças na sua ciranda.
She swallowed slowly. She puffed on the face of the companion.
- Ricardo e suas idéias. E agora? What or program? Brandally ele a tomou peels waist.
- Conheço bem tudo isso, minha people are, buried there. Let's go in an instant and I will show you the most beautiful world.
Ela encarou-o um instant. He raised his head behind a laugh.
- See or pôr-do-sol... Ali, meu Deus... Fabulous, fabulous... He implores me for a last meeting, it torments me for days in a row, I face my longevity for this buraqueira, only one more time, only one more time! E for what? To see or pôr-do-sol num cemitério ...

Ele riu também, affecting encabulamento as a menino pilhado em missing.
- Raquel, minha darling, no faça assim me. You know that your gostaria was to bring you to my apartment, but rather poor ainda, as isso fosse possível. Moro agora numa a horrible thought, to dona é a Medusa who lives spying buraco hair dates ...
- E você acha what eu would go?
- Do not leave, I know that I would not go, you are being very faithful. So I thought, we could talk um little numa rua afastada... - disse ele, approaching-se mais. She caressed him or arm like you put two fingers. Serio ficou. In just a few years, countless rugazinhas formed between two serious, slightly open eyes. The leques of rugas are deepened by a cunning expression. She was not the instant as young as she appeared to be. More logo she sorriu and a network of rugas disappears sem deixar vestígio. Voltou-he was newly or inexperienced and inattentive. - Você fez bem em vir.

- I wanted to say what or program... Couldn't we have some coisa num bar?
- Estou sem dinheiro, meu anjo, see you understand.
- More eu payment.
- Com o dinheiro dele? I prefer to drink formicide. I choose this passeio because it is graça and very decent, I can not have a more decent passeio, do you agree with me? Romantic tie.

Ela olhou em redor. She puxou or braço que ele apertava.
- Foi a huge cliff, Ricardo. Ele é ciumentíssimo. He is happy to know that I have my cases. We got caught together, so I just want to see some of your fabulous ideas that will bring me to life.
- But I will lembrei from this place precisely because I do not want you to risk it, meu anjo. There is no place more discreet than an abandoned cemetery, old, completely abandoned - follow it, open it or carry it. You velhos gonzos gemeram. - Jamais seu amigo ou um amigo do seu amigo will know that we are here.
- It is a huge cliff, here is her. Do not insist nessas brincadeiras, please. And do you see me buried? I do not support burials. More burial of quem? Raquel, Raquel, how many times is it necessary to repeat the same thing?! There are no more seculars and he is buried here, why we have no more than enough bones, that we are bobbing. See me eat, you can give me or arm, I have not had medo.
Or kill rasteiro dominava tudo. In not satisfied with being furious, furious canteiros hairs, he will go up to the graves, infiltrate and greedy hairs rachões two marmores, It will invade the avenues of pedregulhos esverdinhados, as it wants to be with its violent force of life, forever cover the last vestiges of death. Foram walking pela longa alameda banhada de sol. The passes of both sound ressoavam like some strange music made of some dry folhas crushed on the pebbles. Loved more obedient, she lets herself drive like a child. Sometimes she showed a certain curiosity for one or another grave as pale, enameled portraits medals.

- É imenso, hein? E tão miserável, I never saw a cemitério more miserável, how depressing - she exclaimed, pulling a cigarette holder in the direction of an anjinho with a deceased head. "Come on embora, Ricardo, chega."
- Ali, Raquel, olha um pouco for this afternoon! Depressing why? There is no way that eu li, a beauty is not nem na light da manhã nem na shadow da noite, it is not twilight, nesse meio-tom, nessa ambiguidade. I'm giving a twilight a tray, and you are queixa.
- I don't want the cemitério, já disse. And ainda mais cemitério poor.

Delicately ele beijou-lhe a mão.
- You promise to give this seu escravo a late afternoon.
- É, more fiz mal. It could be very funny, but I don't want to risk it anymore. - Ele é tão rico assim?
- Delicious. It will take me agora numa viagem fabulous até o Oriente. Já ouviu falar no Oriente? Come on até o Oriente, meu caro ...

Ele apanhou um pedregulho e fechou-o na mão. A little network of wrinkles turned to stretch out between two serious olhos of her. A physiognomy, open and smooth, suddenly darkened, raised. More logo or sorriso reappears and as rugazinhas sumiram.

- Eu also gave you a day for a boat ride, Lembra? Leaning on the head not on the shoulder of homem, the retardou or passo.
- You know, Ricardo, what you você é mesmo meio so much... But in spite of everything, I have at the same time saudade daquele tempo. What anno that! When I think, I don't understand how much aguentei, imagine, a year!
- É que você tinha lido Dama das Camélias, I am also all fragile, all sentimental. E agora? What romance are you reading now?
- Nenhum - responds ela, franzindo os lips. He stops to read the inscription of a torn piece: my dear wife, eternal saudades - he says in a low voice. - Pois sim. Durou pouco essa eternidade.
Ele atirou or pedregulho num canteiro ressequido.
- But that abandonment na morte than face or charm distorted. There is no more a minor intervention two alive, a stupid intervention two alive. Veja - disse he appointing a fendida grave, to erva daninha sprouting unusual from within da fenda -, or moss já cobriu or nome na pedra. On top of the moss, ainda virão as roots, depois as folhas... This perfect death, nem lembrança, nem saudade, nem or nome sequer. Nem isso.
Ela aconchegou-se mais a ele. He sketched.
- It is bem, but now we are going to have fun that I never had a lot of fun, face time that I don't have so much fun, just a face like you could make me have fun as well.

He deu-lhe um quick beijo na face.
- Chega, Ricardo, I want to go embora.
- More some steps ...
- But this cemetery does not end anymore, we walk kilometers! - Olhou back. - I never walked so much, Ricardo, I will be exhausted.
- A boa vida do I leave you preguiçosa? How ugly - lamentou ele, impelindo-a to face. - Dobrando this avenue, fica or jazigo gives minha people, é de la que se vê o por-do-sol. You know, Raquel, I've been around many times around here given my cousin. We have been for twelve years. Every Sunday minha mãe vinha trazer flowers and put away our capelinha where he was buried meu pai. Eu e minha priminha we come with her and we go there, of course, making so many plans. Agora so duas estão dead.
- Your cousin too?
- Também. She died when she completed fifteen years. She was not properly pretty, but she had some olhos... They were assim green like the signs of her, similar like the signs of her. Extraordinary, Raquel, extraordinary as you duas... I now think that all beauty-dela resided as soon as we olhos, also oblique, as you know of her.
―Vocês se amaram?
- Ela loved me. She was the only creature that... She made a gesture. - Enfim, não tem importância.

Raquel tirou-lhe o cigar, tragou e depois devolveu-o.
- Eu gostei de você, Ricardo.
- E eu I loved you.. I love you ainda. Barnacle agora a difference?

Um passed or broke your cypress and let out a scream. She shuddered.
- Esfriou, não? Come on embora.
- Já chegamos, meu anjo. Here is meus mortos.

Pararam diante de uma capelinha covered: from top to bottom by a jungle climber, which enveloped a furious embrace of cipós and folhas. A little porta rangeu when it opens wide. The light invaded a cubicle with blackened walls, streaked with ancient drips. Not the center of the cubicle, a half-dismantled altar, covered by a towel that he will acquire in time. Two glasses of debunked opaline ladeavam um rough crucifix of wood. Between the arms of the cross, an aranha will have two triangles of broken teias, hanging like bundles of a cloak that someone will place over the shoulders of Christ. On the side wall, directly from the door, a portinhola of iron giving access to a staircase of stone, descending in a snail to ca tacumba. She entered at two feet, avoiding rubbing even slightly naqueles remains of the capelinha.

- How sad that is, Ricardo. Never again will you be here?
Ele tocou na face da imagem recoberta de poeira. Sorriu, melancholy.
- I know that you would like to find everything clean, flowers, glasses, candles, sinais da minha dedicação, right? But I know that I love this cemetery and precisely this abandonment, this solidão. So put yourself as another world were cut and here to death is totally isolated. Absolute

The adiantou-is spied through the sickly rumpled iron bars of Portinhola. In the semi-obscured area of ​​the subsoil, the drawers stretched for a long period of four walls that formed a narrow, fifty-eighth retaining angle.
- Is the embassy?
- Here are the drawers. E, nas drawers, minhas roots. Pó, meu anjo, pó - he murmured. He opened Portinhola and descended to Escada. She approached a drawer in the center of the wall, holding firmly to the bronze chest, as she puxá-la. - A comfortable stone. Not great?

Stopping-I don't miss it, she leaned over to see me.
- Are all those drawers cheias?
- Cheias... So that têm or portrait and inscription, is it selling? This is the portrait of the minha mãe, here is the minha mãe - follow it, touching with two fingers with the enameled medal inlaid in the center of the drawer.

Ela crossed you arms. She fell down, a slight tremor in her voice.
- Come on, Ricardo, come on.
- You are eaten.
- Of course not, I'm cold. Get up and let's go embora, it's cold!
He did not respond. She adiantara-tied a two drawers to the opposite wall and ignited a match. She leaned over to the coldly illuminated medal.
- To priminha Maria Emília. Lembro-I tied myself the day she shot this portrait, two weeks before dying... She lights your hair like a blue fita and saw it show, are you pretty? You're pretty... - Falava agora with himself, twelve and seriously. - Não é que fosse pretty, but you olhos... Come see, Raquel, and impressive how she tinha olhos even seus years of her.

She descended to escada, hitching up to not scuff at anything.
- What a cold face here. And what dark, I'm not enxergando!
Lighting another match, the offer to companheira.
- Hit, give to see a lot bem... - She Afastou-stands on her side. - Repair us olhos. But he is so unbounded, it is difficult to see that he is a girl ...

Before the chama turns off, he approaches the inscrição feita na pedra. He read em out loud, slowly.
- Maria Emília, born in the twentieth of May of a thousand and eighties and deceased... - He Deixou will fall or stick and ficou an imóvel instant. - But this could not be her lover, she died for more than a year! Seu lied ...

A metallic bag disappointed you-lhe word for meio hair. He olhou em redor. Peça was deserted. He turned or olhar to escape. No mole, Ricardo observed from behind the dated portinhola. She tinha seu sorriso - meio innocent, meio malicious.
- Isto never been or Jazigo gives his family, you liar! Brincadeira mais cretina! - She exclaimed, quickly climbing to escada. - Não tem graça nenhuma, ouviu?

He waited for the chegasse to play or trinco da portinhola de ferro. Then he deu uma volta à chave, starts the date and jumped back.
- Ricardo, open isto immediately! Come on, immediately! - He ordered him, twisting or tripping. - I detest this type of brincadeira, you know disso. You idiot! It is not what gives to follow the head of an idiot desses. Brincadeira more stupid!
- A sun stay is going to enter pela frincha da porta tem uma frincha na porta. Depois vai se devagarinho, bem devagarinho. Você terá or pôr-do-sol mais belo do mundo. Ela shook Portinhola.
- Ricardo, chega, ha disse! Chega! Open immediately, immediately! - He shook portinhola with more força ainda, clung to her, depending on himself between the grades. He was offensive, you were crying. She ensaiou um smirk. - Ouça, meu bem, I was very funny, but now I need to go the same, come on, open ...

Ele já não sorria. He was serious, your eyes diminished. Em redor deles, reappear as rugazinhas open em leque.
- Boa noite, Raquel ...
- Chega, Ricardo! You will pay me... - She yelled, stretching your arms through the ranks, trying to grab him. - Cretin! Give me a highlight porcaria, come on! - She demanded it, examining the date nova em folha. She followed me through the large covers by a ferrugem crust. She immobilized. She was erected or olhar tied to a chave that the balançava pela argola, like a pendulum. She faced, appealing against a grade a face sem cor. She esbugalhou os olhos num spasm e amoleceu o corpo. Foi escorregando. - No, no ...

Turned ainda for her, the chegara tied the porta and opened the arms. He was puxando, as duas scandalous folhas.
- Boa noite, meu anjo.
The lips of the pregavam um ao outro, as I know, between the houvesse queue. The olhos of her rolled heavily numa expressão brutalized.
- No ...

Keeping a chave no bag, I resumed or percorrido walk. No brief silence, or som two pebbles clashing together on her shoes. E, suddenly, or yell medonho, inumano:
- NO!

During some time of the year, the screams that will multiply will multiply, semelhant years of an animal being stranded. Depois, os uivos foram ficando more remote, downed as seen from the depths of the earth. Assim that he atingiu or portão do cemitério, ele lançou ao ponte um olhar mortiço. He was attentive. Nenhum ouvido human escutaria agora, qualquer chamado. He reached for a cigarette and was descending to ladeira. Crianças ao longe brincavam de roda.

Referred many times as "the greatest living Brazilian writer," Lygia Fagundes Telles (1923) is internationally known for her works of romance and short narratives.

Present na coletânea Venha Ver o Pôr do Sol e Outros Contos (1988), this is a two most consecrated texts by the author, combining elements of fantasy, drama and terror. Or entanglement is starring Raquel and Ricardo, two old lovers that mark me non-cemitério reunion.

Or local would have been chosen by homem, to keep the event secret. Embora his words about him sejam twelve, his gestures from him seem to denounce that he has some hidden intention. No end, we discover that we are experiencing a history of ciume and loucura that ends in a tragic way.

Ricardo preferred to kill Raquel (or before, bury her alive) than to oil or end the relationship and or new romance that she lived. In this way, Lygia Fagundes Telles establishes a cenário of horror next day do: Unfortunately, there are many cases of femicide that occur in similar conditions.

Take the opportunity to see also:

• Conto Venha ver o pôr do sol by Lygia Fagundes Telles
• Poem O Corvo by Edgar Allan Poe
• Fantastic stories to understand or textual genre
• The melhores horror films that you need to watch
• Great old horror films that you need to see
• You are free of fantasy that you need to know