Brand Name Clothing is a creepy story from France about a boy whose parents spoil him and buy him all the expensive clothes he demands.
There was a 16-year old boy named Christophe who lived in France. He was obsessed with brand name clothing and refused to wear anything else. Every garment in his wardrobe bore the label of a famous designer. He had Lacoste polo shirts, Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirts, Tommy Hilfiger sweaters and a Hugo Boss jacket. His shirts were made by Armani, his ties were from Ralph Lauren and his underwear was all Calvin Klein. He also had Louis Vuitton belts, Levi’s jeans, Gucci shoes and Nike sneakers.
His parents spoiled him and bought him everything he wanted. They both worked hard in order to earn enough money to satisfy their son’s expensive tastes. It had been years since they had bought any new clothes for themselves. However, Christophe was selfish and never appreciated the sacrifices they made for him.
One day, he told them he needed a new pair of sneakers. That evening, they returned from the local department store and handed him a bag. Christophe snatched it from their hands without even saying Thank You. When he opened it and looked inside, he suddenly flew into a fury.
“Merde! You idiots!” he shouted angrily. “Putaine! How could you be so stupid?”
“What, Christophe?” asked his mother timidly. “What’s wrong? Are they the wrong size?”
Christophe was seething with anger. “Merde! They’re the wrong color!” he snapped. “These are blue! I asked you for red! Putaine! I specifically said RED NIKES!”
“Couldn’t you just try these ones on?” his father begged. “Perhaps you would like them…”
Boiling with rage, Christophe picked up one of the sneakers and slapped his father across the face with it.
“Merde!!!” he screamed. “I said RED!!! Not blue!!! You expect me to wear blue sneakers, you old fool? Putaine! I wouldn’t becaught dead in these things. Take them away and burn them!”
He threw the sneakers at his parents and slammed his bedroom door.
The next day, Christophe was walking through the park when he spotted a young boy who was wearing an eye-catching pair of white Nike sneakers.
“Merde!” said Christophe to himself. “I’ve never seen Nikes like that anywhere in France. Putaine! They must be a US model that he had custom made â€‹â€‹and ordered online. I have to have them!”
He looked around and saw a heavy tree branch lying on the grass. Picking it up, he made his way across the park, to the bench where they boy was sitting.
Christophe approached quietly, sneaking up behind the boy. He raised the piece of wood above him and brought it crashing down on the boy’s head. Then, he pounced on the dazed boy and began kicking and punching him violently, until the youth was no longer moving.
Christophe was breathing heavily and adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He began unlacing the boy’s white Nikes and pulled them off. Just as he was putting the sneakers on his own feet, he heard shouts coming from behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a policeman running towards him.
Christope stopped lacing up the sneakers and took off running. He dashed out of the park, closely followed by the policeman. He jumped over bushes and dodged through alleyways trying to lose his pursuer, but whenever he looked back, the policeman was still hot on his heels.
Just then, Christophe saw a railway station. He ran through the door and hurried out onto the platform. The train was just about to arrive. When he glanced behind him, he saw the policeman coming through the door. Christophe jumped off the platform and landed on the tracks. Scrambling to his feet, he tried to cross the railway line before the train came, but the laces of the stolen nikes became entangled in the rails. He tripped and fell onto the tracks.
Christophe looked up, just in time to see the train bearing down on him. It ran straight across his legs and cut off his feet at the ankles.
The horrified policeman saw everything that happened and immediately called an ambulance. The terribly injured boy was rushed to hospital. He was bleeding profusely and doctors were worried he wouldn’t make it.
Afte rthe ambulance left, the policeman went out onto the tracks. He collected Christophe’s severed feet and dropped them into a plastic bag. The feet were still inside the Nike sneakers which had been stained red with blood.