The Darkness Chronicles: Fate at the Wheel

In Fate at the Wheel, Vincent Deroy channels the spirit of 1950s horror comics to deliver a dark, tense, and deeply human tale. The story follows Tommy Malloy, a legendary race car driver whose career shatters after a brutal accident. Consumed by pride and obsessed with victory, Malloy spirals into alcohol and rage, a descent that pushes him toward the unforgivable.

But this time, it’s not just his reputation that collapses.
It’s his own body.
After a second tragedy leaves him without an arm, Malloy dreams of only one thing: getting it back. That burning desire becomes an obsession… until a presence older and far more relentless than he is comes to claim its due. Because in this story, Death is no metaphor. It has a face, a will, and a score to settle.
Fate at the Wheel plunges the reader into a heavy, almost suffocating atmosphere where every choice drives Malloy closer to a road with no return. Inspired by classic horror pulp, the tale blends destiny, fatalism, and supernatural justice in a race where darkness grips the wheel… and never hits the brakes.
For fans of retro horror where the supernatural strikes without warning, this book delivers an intense and deliciously unsettling experience.

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Here is an excerpt:

Fate at the Wheel

In the depths of eternal night, lit only by the trembling glow of the flames, the Keeper of Darkness stood hunched and shadowed, his ember bright gaze fixed on the red sparks rising from his hearth at the heart of his sinister manor. His voice, rough and threatening, cut through the air like a sharpened blade:

“Tommy Malloy was fast. Whether it was a dollar, a dame, or a racing car, he always knew how to make his move. But never—never—did he imagine that one day he would drive that car straight out of reality and into the bleak, cursed realm of the Darkness, from which no man ever returns. For a man cannot live when a part of him is lost… even if that part has long been dead and buried. And so begins the strange and unbelievable tale of the lost soul… and the arm that came back.”

Chapter 1:
The Lost Arm

Tommy Malloy, dressed in a tweed suit as worn-out as his memories, stood alone in the middle of a desolate cemetery. The icy wind moaned through the twisted branches of ancient oaks, and the moon—yellow like a sickly eye—watched him from above.
Around him, grotesque shadows shifted: ghouls, nightmarish creatures halfway between zombies and demons. Their thin, crooked fingers clutched at him, holding him in place, while one of them dug frantically into the earth. The scrape of the shovel matched the frantic pounding of Tommy’s heart. Then, like a grim trophy, the ghoul lifted a small coffin.
Tommy struggled, but he was powerless. His gaze locked onto the tiny coffin with unspeakable dread. Part of him already knew what lay inside… but the rest of him refused to believe it.
The ghouls cackled, their harsh laughter ringing through the night like cracked bells. One of them slowly opened the coffin, revealing a withered arm—dried, shriveled, yet disturbingly familiar. The wrinkled skin seemed to whisper memories from another life.
“MY ARM!” he screamed, an almost animal light burning in his eyes. “GIVE ME BACK MY ARM!”
Just as Tommy tried to shout again, the ghouls—and the arm—vanished in a cloud of dust.
He jolted awake, gasping for breath, his face slick with sweat. The first timid rays of dawn crept into the bedroom. Helen, his fiancée, slept peacefully beside him. He ran a trembling hand across his forehead and muttered:
“It was just a nightmare… Just a damn nightmare…”
But at the foot of the bed, a strange silhouette seemed to dissolve into the rising light.

Buy the book on Amazon (KDP) to read the rest 🙂

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Buy on the Shop (PDF)