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Mortal Vengeance: A Grim Tale
Mortal Vengeance: A Grim Tale, by Alejandro Torres De la Rocha, is a psychological thriller that works like an origin story: it follows a 17-year-old senior at the Jesuit-run Excelsior Academy, as the school’s cruelty, silence, and “character-building” discipline quietly shape the conditions for the future Grim Cojuelo killings. It’s framed as the “howdunit” prequel to another book in the same universe, tracing how institutional rot and personal guilt turn a Dominican folklore figure, the limping devil reimagined as a hunter, into something inevitable.
I really enjoyed the cinematic writing. The book opens with a staged, almost spoken-word setup, with a narrator and the killer stepping in like voices in a dark theater, and it keeps that heightened, performative feel even in ordinary moments. The school itself is described with a kind of glossy dread: stained glass, marble, crucifixes everywhere, and beauty that feels like a trap. Sometimes the language is intense, almost daring you to look away. It works, especially when it’s tied to sensory detail and not just mood. Other times, it can feel a little crowded with emphasis, like the book underlining its own points. Still, the voice commits. It wants you inside Julián’s head, where guilt is not abstract; it’s a pressure in the chest.
The author’s big choice, and I mean this in a good way, is to make the horror feel system-made. The most frightening scenes are not supernatural. They’re social. A teacher humiliates a student in public, classmates freeze, phones come out, and nobody with power stops it. Then you get a philosophy class where a priest asks, calmly, if it’s ever okay to lie, and suddenly the book is talking about survival, complicity, and the cost of telling the truth in a place that punishes it. That’s where the psychological thriller genre really clicks for me: it’s less about jump scares and more about watching a closed world tighten its rules until someone breaks. If you like school-set dread where the building itself feels like a character, it reminded me at times of the slow-burn pressure and moral rot in Donna Tartt’s The Secret History, and the “this place is shaping you” inevitability you get in Stephen King’s novel Carrie, even though the voice and cultural lens here are very much its own.
I’d recommend A Grim Tale to readers who want their thriller to have teeth, especially people interested in stories about institutions, religious power, and how silence gets enforced. One note, it does not tiptoe around heavy material, including trauma and grooming, so you really have to be in the right headspace. But if you’re drawn to psychological thrillers where the scariest thing is watching a system teach people to look away, you’ll appreciate what this book is doing, and how patiently it builds the sense that the monster is being assembled in plain sight.
Pages: 571 | ASIN : B0FPBB3ZDL
I had time. I had anger. And I was bored.
Mortal Vengeance follows a group of wayward teens who come face-to-face with a horrifying reaper-like being while seeking revenge on a cruel teacher. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
It actually started in a very petty way. During my first month of ninth grade, I came home with a D+ in Spanish on my first report card. It was the first time I had ever received a grade like that, and my parents decided I was too distracted. Their solution was simple and brutal: they removed everything from my bedroom except the lightbulbs.
No TV. No Nintendo 64. No dial-up internet.
I had time. I had anger. And I was bored.
That frustration bled directly into the story. Mortal Vengeance opens with Marcos saying, “That old hag is going to pay,” which perfectly captured my headspace at the time. I was steeped in teenage resentment and heavily influenced by the slasher films of the late ’90s—Scream, I Know What You Did Last Summer. With nothing else to do at night, writing became the only way to channel that anger somewhere safe.
What began as a rough slasher script was chaotic, but something interesting happened: people wanted more. I showed a few pages to a friend, and suddenly, classmates were demanding new chapters, threatening me if I showed up empty-handed. I didn’t know it then, but writing helped me process emotions I didn’t yet have the tools to understand. Over time, that raw revenge fantasy evolved into something intentional—a story about how small injustices spiral into something monstrous. What started as anger became craft.
Do you find yourself relating to your characters as you write?
Absolutely—but not in a one-to-one way.
In Mortal Vengeance, the boys were modeled after my friends, with some liberties taken. Alex, in particular, began as a partial self-portrait. His emotional intensity, his insecurity, and the way he uses humor or singing as a coping mechanism—that’s very much me.
Beyond that, I relate to my characters the way a parent relates to their children. You create them, but they are not you. They have their own histories and blind spots. My priority is to give them a reason to be flawed and human. Sometimes I’ll lend them one of my own experiences to ground them emotionally, but ultimately, they have to stand on their own.
What is the challenging aspect of writing a thriller? The most rewarding?
The biggest challenge is pacing—especially in a genre where suspension of disbelief is fragile. I love films like Scream, but I’ve always struggled with how quickly logic collapses once a killer is established. Why aren’t they hiding? Why are they splitting up? In Mortal Vengeance, once the Grim Cojuelo appears, the escalation is relentless by design so the characters don’t have time to question the logic.
The most rewarding part is earning the reader’s trust. When readers are willing to come along for the ride—through fear, grief, and chaos—you know the emotional connection is working. I find the “B-Roll” sections of my book especially meaningful because they offer a quiet intimacy. They give readers space to bond with the characters, so when the danger finally comes, it hits much harder.
Can we look forward to more work from you soon? What are you currently working on?
Yes—very much so. And sooner than you think.
Mortal Vengeance throws readers straight into action, but it only hints at how things reached that breaking point. Mortal Vengeance: A Grim Tale explores what came before: the systems, institutions, and personal failures that normalized cruelty long before the first act of revenge. It’s a different kind of horror—less spectacle, more psychological reckoning.
At the center of the prequel is Julián, a character briefly referenced in the main novel, here brought fully into focus. Through his perspective, the story examines how institutional pressure, moral compromise, and silence converge around a single student. Alongside him is Lucía, his closest friend and emotional anchor, whose loyalty is tested as the darkness deepens. Readers also meet younger versions of Marcos, Fernando, Alex, Enrique, Melissa, and Mónika—before identities harden and choices become irreversible.
The two books can be read in either order. Starting with Mortal Vengeance emphasizes mystery and shock; the prequel becomes an excavation. Starting with A Grim Tale emphasizes dread and inevitability; the main novel then lands as a consequence rather than a surprise.
I’m also finishing the first draft of the sequel, Mortal Vengeance II: To Reel or Not Too Real? It’s a major narrative risk and a necessary evolution for the series. If all goes well, readers can expect it toward the end of the year or early next. I’m excited—and a little terrified—which usually means I’m doing something right.
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook | Website
In the sun-drenched courtyards of a school in Santo Domingo, a group of friends seals an unbreakable promise: “One for all, and all for one.” With the innocence of youth, they swear to protect each other and stay united, no matter what. But life plays by its own rules, and an act of revenge—fueled by jealousy and old wounds—is about to shatter their world.
What starts as a plan to teach a feared teacher a lesson quickly spirals into uncontrollable terror. Unexplained deaths and brutal attacks begin to haunt their circle, while a shadowy figure known only as El Grim Cojuelo seems to claim victims one by one. Guilt eats away at the friends, paranoia takes hold, and loyalties blur, forcing them to face a reality warped by fear.
Trapped in a nightmare with no way out, the survivors are pushed to confront their own secrets—and the deadly consequences of their actions. With time running out and help far away, will they uncover the truth behind the hooded figure hunting them? Or will their childhood promise be the final thing to break, dragging them all into one last, bloody reckoning?
Mortal Vengeance is a dark, psychological thriller that explores the limits of friendship, the fallout of betrayal, and the razor-thin line between justice and madness. Prepare for a gripping journey packed with tension, shocking revelations, and unexpected twists that will keep you turning pages until the very last chilling breath.
Perfect for fans of psychological thrillers and dark dramas with a Caribbean twist.
If you like:
Scream, I Know What You Did Last Summer, Euphoria, Elite —
you’ll love Mortal Vengeance.
Mortal Vengeance
Mortal Vengeance, by Alejandro Torres De la Rocha, is a young adult supernatural thriller that follows a tight-knit but deeply troubled group of teens whose attempt to get revenge on a cruel teacher spirals into something far darker than any of them imagined. What starts as a grim school drama quickly escalates into a chain of betrayals, fear, and ultimately the appearance of a mythic, reaper-like being that shatters their lives. The book blends coming-of-age turmoil with horror and psychological suspense, and the shift from everyday cruelty to supernatural violence comes through sharp and sudden.
I was pulled into the heat and pressure of those classrooms and courtyards. The writing often leans intense, almost cinematic, with scenes described in a way that makes the emotions feel oversized, raw, and volatile. I caught myself thinking, these kids are carrying way more weight than they know how to hold. Marcos’s explosive anger, Mario’s guilt and fragility, Alex’s manipulative charm and insecurities, Melissa’s heartbreak, Enrique’s need to please everyone… every character is drawn with a kind of heightened emotional color. Sometimes it felt melodramatic, but in a way that matched the story’s pulse. The author’s choice to push sensations and metaphors to their limits gives the book a feverish energy, like the world is always one bad decision away from breaking.
What surprised me most was how quickly the story shifts from grounded teen conflict to something mythic and terrifying. One moment we’re dealing with bullying and revenge in a school hallway, and the next we’re staring down the Grim Cojuelo on a moonlit pier. That jump could have felt jarring, but for me, it worked because the emotional stakes were already running so high. The supernatural element feels like an extension of everything boiling inside these characters. Still, I found myself wishing for a few quieter beats where the emotions had room to breathe. When everything is dialed up, it can be hard to sit with the subtler moments. But there’s something gripping about how unafraid the author is to dive into intensity, whether it’s love, jealousy, fear, or guilt.
Mortal Vengeance is a story about how small cruelties grow into big consequences, and how revenge rarely lands where you expect. If you like young adult stories that mix school drama with supernatural horror, and you don’t mind a narrative that swings for big emotions instead of quiet restraint, this will be the perfect book for you. It’s a dramatic, dark, and sometimes chaotic ride, but it is delightfully entertaining.
Pages: 306 | ASIN : B0FDT6JYSQ
