Edgar Allen Poe once said “Believe
only half of what you see and nothing
that you hear.”
Silence is frightening! Technically it’s not the silence
that scares us, but that impending voice, a whisper which we subconsciously
ignore every night.
It was pitch dark outside,
not even a single lamp post was working. Relaxing in a shabby balcony on 5th
floor, he enjoyed the whole thrill of being alone in an unfinished Multi-storey building,
which neighbors claims to be a place of occult.
It was surprisingly cold that
night but his hands were moist. Its 1 AM. Cold breeze mix with thick mist
decked upon almost all the nearby visible things. He was experiencing enhanced senses;
all of his six senses were highly alert. His veins are full of adrenaline. Resting
against a wall in the balcony he was fidgeting up with his phone and keeps on
looking at that black, almost empty void.
Bizarrely, flies were
swarming around him constantly and the buzzing sound are now getting on his
nerves.
‘I was
here before’ he mumbled. He
was into multiple Deja Vu.
Voice: ‘You've done it Kid!’
‘What was that...not again please. Stop toying
with me. Get out! Get out of my head..’ with shivering
hands he took out a pill and swallows it without water.
He was terrified, not because
he was alone; his solitude hardly matters to him but the fact that he knew he’s
not alone. He was feeling weird stiffness around him as if someone is standing
just next to him close, very close. It was a full moon night; heavily gasping
he took out a neatly made roll, lights up and...Puff! Couple of deep drags.
Peace. His heart beat calms down. Gasping and shivering have almost gone. To enjoy the fullest he put on the music on
his phone - Enigma’s Mea Culpa...
3rd drag...
4th...
And.
....A foul smell fuses with
wet concrete and charred lumber rupture his trance. His heart wasn't pumping
enough blood to his brain, he was stoned, and smoke makes him unafraid. He
flipped his phone and put on the mini torch and enters this large hall, he was
constantly looking at the stairs far in the corner leading to nowhere.
As he kept on walking inside,
the smell becomes more gruesome. He saw a partially open tattered wooden door,
as he was about to open the door, his torch died and he heard a nerve-jangling
scream of a woman. Chills down his spine, he was gasping heavily. He stick to a
nearby wall and closed his ears. He can’t see nothing but the shadows.
Music continues - Enigma’s Mea Culpa
He was crying like a child, a
helpless child stuck in a maze, he patted his phone repeatedly; the mini torch
lights up again and brighten up his shirt, only to find it drenched in blood. He
was breathless. He noticed his moist hands; his hands were shivering, he put
his hand in front of torch, fear prevails instantly. His hands were covered
with fresh blood and flesh. Flies were feeding from his blood covered fingers;
he was stand still, numb. Zero. Laughing.
He heard the voice
again...singing...
“When the lights go out, you’ll have doubt...
You feel something behind, but you can’t
find...
You can feel it, you can hear it, and it’s
breath against your ear...
But when you turn around, there’s nothing
there”
He: Was it terrible?
Voice: No, it was awful. You didn't even properly
slit her throat!
He: She was my girl, I...I couldn't be more brutal with her...
Voice: She’s bitch! Listen to me boy; she’s one
big time whore. Say it!
He: Yes. She’s a bitch
Voice: Scream it!
He: She’s whore. She’s Bitch.
I hate her. She’ll rot in hell........
(Keeps on stabbing her body
underneath him)
Voice: Laughing. Attaboy. I’ll be back!
With soaked hands in fresh blood,
he sat on his girl’s body staring the very empty stares leading to nowhere....
Music Continues Enigma’s Mea Culpa...
.....Voices are creepy and do exist around and inside us, all the
time. They are more like dogs, they come when they are called.
PS: True story served with fabrication!
