Ghost Vaticinators || Part 2

Contd  from Part 1 Ghost Vacitinators

Part 2

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My mouth opens into a big “O” with the largest possible diameter as soon as I heard what my neighbors said. I was flabbergasted. The second truth wasn’t that stringent as the first one was. What? MY fiancé has lived here, how he can lie to me. Why is he lying to me? What’s the truth? Several question marks started revolving in my head. I started thinking of exorcising the house but then thought not to, since I didn’t want mike to know that I know about him. So, I thought I’ll run away.

As darkness started engulfing the beautiful Seattle evening, I pre-planned my exit. I couldn’t sleep although I pretended well. Soon Mike was asleep. I got up on my toes. The only noise I could hear was of the crickets. I took my handbag, which I filled with just the necessary documents I would need beforehand only. I scarcely opened the door, when the pivots creaked. With trembling hands I managed to open the door slightly. I saw someone. Someone or Something, I wasn’t sure. I saw the specters. It was the twin-like girl but with no deformities unlike other times and mike’s poltergeist. I saw the girl carrying the same handbag, the one I was holding. She wore my dress and she was looking exactly like me. I freaked, and closed my mouth with both my hands as I breathed heavily. I saw mike’s apparition interrogating the girl where she was going. When unable to answer he slapped hard and took her outside by hair and banged her head against the wall. She was crying out loud for help but no one came. Just as I paced behind them to see what happened next, I heard footsteps behind me. Before I could turn back, the ghosts disappeared and Mike asked “where are you going?” I turned back, perplexed I couldn’t think of a reason and before I could make one, he slapped me. He grabbed my hair and dragged me outside and banged my head against the wall, I cried for help, but all in vain. I saw mike he was mad, his eyes turned red. I was bleeding and told him I was going to visit my parents as I got a call in the afternoon. He simpered and said “you’ll never leave this place”. I ran and bolted the door from inside, tied a scarf around the wound on my head which eventually developed a bump. I tried to maintain my composure and somehow fell asleep trying to connect the dots.

Morning rays entered my room through the window and I woke. I heard knocks on my door. It was mike asking me to open the door. He was iterating what was wrong with me as if he didn’t know. He mentioned he was worried about me as he saw blood on the front door. Bemused, I opened the door. He took me in his arms and was crying. I asked if he remember last night, but he didn’t. He took me to the hospital where I got a couple of stitches and the nurse drugged me. Upon gaining consciousness I saw my parents standing near the foot of my bed. I asked mike how they got here, Mike answered that I was going to them last night so he called them here instead. I was certain he was lying before, that he didn’t remember anything. He remembered my reason, hence the night too. Soon mike left and I was too scared to tell my parents anything. I asked them to leave as well.  I wanted some time to think. As I sat clueless on my bed, I overheard some voices. It was mike, and I was not certain whether the rest two voices were of my neighbors. All I could hear was that I am useless as I had a scar on my head now, and that I should be killed before I become some sort of danger to their community. As I heard, my hackles rose. With tears in my eyes I lied on the hospital bed.

I know I saw the ghosts direct the same scene last night before it happened. Everything happened exactly the same way as I saw them act. It occurred to me, were the ghosts trying to tell me something? Were they helping me? What if they predict everything before it happens? were they trying to foretell my future? I was sure Mike had no idea about them and I remember the first time I entered the third room, I saw the ghosts’ enact mike killing my parents and me. Will that happen in the exact same way if I stay? Before I could connect more dots I saw the twin-like girl floating in my hospital ward, mouthing the words, “come”. I got up, for now I know I am not scared of the dead but the living. I followed her. The hospital seemed quite. She took me to the mortuary and she pointed to a body. I saw it was of a young girl, and as I slowly removed the shroud ,I noticed her nerves were cut. The ghoul transformed into that girl. I cried, as I got that mike tricked her just like he tricked me to come with him and killed her. Shortly, the room was filled with several ghouls, all young girls floating few inches above the ground, pointing to their respective bodies. It was vivid that Mike and the people of this town tricked and killed them too. But still I had one question unanswered, why was he doing this? I heard footsteps and I ducked down, the apparition vanished. I saw a part of some crumbled sheets below her body. I pulled them out. Soon the footsteps were not audible. I read the sheets only to corroborate that the girl’s name was Arienne and she was from Seattle. She was “married” to Mike. On the other sheets there were caricatures and strange figures drawn which I couldn’t figure out. I took the papers with me to my ward.

As soon as I got home from the hospital I scanned those papers and searched on internet what the caricatures/figures meant, and found that they were used in Voodoo, to stop the process of aging. Mike has been performing the same to remain young forever. It was also clearly mentioned that the protocols involved the sacrifice of a young girl who does not have any scar or marks of wound on her body; it was to satisfy the pagan God/devil or something. Everything fell into places. I solved the mystery, but just one problem, how will “I” escape? Mike and the whole town had made several such sacrifices and God only knows Mike’s real age. If what the ghosts predicted was true then I will die just the way they showed in that third room. I thought if I throw away that dress, the knife in which the ghouls showed I’ll die I will never face it because I know the future will change if I change the environment/situation. I burnt the dress in the backyard. I locked the third room and buried the keys along with the knife. And I asked my parents to leave town as soon as possible. I didn’t wait for mike or the night to fall. I hurried out, but I saw mike standing at the front door. He looked irksome, and asked, “So are you leaving?” I started taking backward steps and looked at my neighbors with great hope. They didn’t react. Mike had a knife. A different one. I ran inside the house and came escaped through the back door. I took a train to San Francisco and left the place without turning back, but wondered what happened inside.

It’s been few months since “Mike episode” was over, which I buried in the past until one day my neighbors showed up. I was scared as to why they were here. But it was a relief when they hugged me and told me that Mike’s dead as he was not able to sacrifice a girl in time and that Mike was a voodoo performer. They also told me that the night I escaped, Mike was caught up in an illusion created by the ghosts just the way I was confused when I first saw them. The girl apparition morphed into me and in a rage without noticing much Mike followed her instead of me and since he was occupied for some time it was enough for me to run away. I realized, the town never supported mike, but they were too scared to take any action. The last truth they told me was that the girl ghoul I used to see, the one which helped me was their daughter who fell in love with mike only to meet her utter death. I smiled innocuously for I was lucky to survive.  

Horror || Ghost Vaticinators

 This is a small horror story. It’s written in two parts. The second part is found here Ghost Vaticinators Part 2

Part1:

I am Elisha, I lived with one my best friends, Mike in a small house in the outskirts of Seattle. We moved from New Jersey few days back because of Mike’s transfer. It was an esoteric small town and people were very friendly and they happened to know each other quite well. I believe because of a small population it’s not hard to remember names and know each other. Mike and I had been best friends since the very first day of my work where we met. He was friends with my boss. Within a week he asked me out and I accepted to go out with him as he seemed not only friendly, but also very caring. And just like any other couple we planned to introduce each other to parents, when he mentioned for the first time that he had lost his in a car crash. On the very day when I introduced Mike to my parents, Mike proposed to me and we got engaged. Although my parents had always been a little skeptic about Mike, I never took their dubiety seriously. But then I believe every girl’s parents are a bit choosy and dubious when it comes to their daughter’s relationship. I trusted him a lot and we were living together, to be married in a couple of months. The place we lived was a small apartment with 3 rooms and a kitchen opening into the drawing room and a bath. We explored all of the rooms save one. The room was locked and was stuck badly so we preferred not to wrestle and break the door. Mike always used to go back to New Jersey every last two days of the month; he said he had being doing some other part time work as well. I never asked him what work, as he seemed to be worried about our future and I thought he was working hard for some extra money. As usual, Mike told he had to go out of town for a couple of days, but this time I was a bit scared as I was new in town. Yet, I thought I can manage, but the truth was I never lived alone. I got back from work, and I saw my bed was moved from its place. Prima Facie, I thought burglars had entered; probably they broke in and looted. But nothing was missing. In fact the bed was moved but the sheet on it was not, pillows were in place, and everything else was in their respective places. I got scared and called up mike to confirm, it wasn’t him or one of his poor jokes. He seemed bemused and said he was in New Jersey. I started to check every room to corroborate there was no intruder at home. I opened up every room but found everything perfect, except for I saw the third room for the first time since we moved. It was a quirky that the room opened at one go. I gathered myself and thought the best was not to think about it much as the more I’ll think the more I’ll picture gory events in my mind and I’ll end up scaring myself. I ordered food and after finishing the same, I crushed. The next thing I remember was waking up in the middle of the night as I heard my fiancé’s voice. I was baffled, as just few hours’ back he told me he was in New Jersey and that he will return after a day. So, Was I dreaming? Or did he come back early? IS it someone else? am I hearing voices? Suddenly my head was developing a coagulation of thoughts in my mind, some of them horrifying. Still, I mustered courage and climbed out of my bed only to find that it wasn’t just one voice but “voices” and most importantly all of them were originating from the third room, the room which was opened first time that very night. I was terrified as I myself scrutinized the same room before and found nothing odd. I dragged myself closer to the room and tried to listen intensely. I could make out my parent’s voice along with mike’s voice. There was dissension and they were fighting. I got scared but as I flowed with my emotions with shaky hands I pushed the door ajar. I was totally taken aback to see mike, and my parents standing, but something was different. They were not totally visible, their bodies were blurry, and they were somewhat “transparent”. As soon as I opened the door, all three of them looked at me and Mike smirked at me. I looked at him, with fear in my eyes and thousands of questions in my mind. In a jiffy, the blurry Mike picked up the side stand next to the bed in that room and hit my dad, and then my mom. He clobbered my Dad to death. I ran towards them, but just when I was about to touch my mother, everything went into thin air. I was standing in the room with the broken stand which was blown into smithereens. I was crying, my mind was going crazy. On the spur of the moment I saw a girl who looked just like me, sitting at the corner of the room, her eyes were bleeding and she had scratches all over her body and a knife was pushed deep into her throat. She was so similar to me, so twin-like as if I was seeing myself in the mirror. I got up to her and she held my hand, jerked, and she said in a low tone “go away” and disappeared.

The next thing I remember was I saw mike standing next to my bed in the local hospital ward. He explained me that my neighbors found me unconscious in the kitchen and took me to the hospital. It was quite incredible that I skipped one whole day of my life, and most importantly I was in the kitchen, not in the third room where I was supposed to be. After I was discharged from the hospital, I reiterated the actual episode to Mike, but he didn’t pay any credence instead blamed me for my lack of responsibility and maturity. A week passed and I almost forgot the incident, thinking it was just a bad dream and my mind was playing games, although at several occasions I woke up in the morning only to find my furniture moved from its respective places. I ignored them, taking them to be mike’s pranks. But one day, at the grocery I saw the “girl” again, the twin-like girl standing at the end of the store. She was in torn clothes which when I focused harder found it to be one of my frocks and she had the exact same look, the first time I saw her. Her eyes were bleeding and the knife was half way down her throat. I was shocked, petrified. She was trying to communicate with me, when suddenly a fellow shopper passed through her and she disappeared. No one else saw her but me. Curiosity didn’t let me breathe in peace, there were many questions revolving in my mind and I wanted answers. I thought it might be the soul of my twin or my sibling, but my parents ascertained me that I was their only child, my mother neither had lost any child in her womb nor had twins. I went to my neighbour’s place the very same day and interrogated who were the occupants before we moved. At first they were reluctant and loathing but soon they broke the silence and revealed two verities. Firstly they said “your “fiance” lived here before you moved” and secondly my house was haunted with several specters.


To be continued .... Ghost Vaticinators Part 2

The internet is not written in pencil but in ink

Writing a blog used to be considered for people who love writing, who are into literature, but Soon blogging gained popularity and now it’s included in the daily chores of every common man who have an access to internet. People throw their emotions on the web without noticing the ethicality of their words. Some think it is a great way to seek revenge by disparaging and vilifying others; some just want to put their emotions deliberately on a platform where everyone has an access to. For centuries writing a diary is counted amongst the good habits and for some it’s as important as to brushing your teeth before you go to bed. Soon the very same habit was given a digital touch, but what people often forget is writing one’s day on a paper is different than writing the same on the web. A diary is usually confidential and reachable to only few a people but writing a blog means sharing your thoughts with thousands. Blogging is of many forms, some create a blog which is private among a small group only, and some write general articles to be shared with all. And yet it proves Blogging is a powerful tool. It can help change the way one thinks. It is very similar to the concept of movie reviews, which have the power to alter one’s perspective towards a particular movie. I don’t say reviews are the only thing that matters for a movie; still it plays a huge role. I personally have spurned watching certain movies just because the reviews were bad.

Not digressing, blogging helps us to know the different thoughts, suggestions and individual opinions. But blogging can be dangerous too. The reason I entitled the article “the internet is not written in pencil but in ink” (A dialogue that has gone cliché’ from the movie “the social network”) is because young people find this to be a fancy digital tool to humiliate someone in front of huge audience. Of course it’s a coward act of hiding behind the screen, writing repugnantly about someone. But the blogger forgets that though this scornful act of his might have placated him for the time but it leaves a profound impact on the victim's life. The victim is the subject of mockery and embarrassment for a much longer period of time .Not only this, in some cases soon after the assailant's rage pacifies he writes another blog to apologize. Only if life was this simple, everyone would have chosen to hurt and apologize over the internet, an easy way to escape the catharsis. People must realize that virtual life is different from the real life and virtual life harms one's real life. Recent studies which were published in many national newspapers also showed the impingement of social networking on young generation. Although a lot of people say that how on earth will others (the people not involved) ever understand what we are writing about. True, but one must know how this attitude will slowly devoid one of one’s emotions. One will be in a constant habit to skip the “emotional decision making part” of one’s life and avoid conversations. Rather discussing the same and sorting out the matter, he’ll prefer to write about it which will not be of any help. Within few years he’ll become a closed book, a very unsocial person who is hard to understand as he’ll never be able to show correct emotions.
Apart from displaying revenge and aggression on the global platform, few find it amusing to disclose their “affection” on net. Again, it’s very sweet to write good about someone, but is web the haven for lovers? Some find it an easy way to hit the bevy of ladies. I don’t say writing blogs are harmful, as long as the content is helpful or at least the content does not aim a person/group in a negative manner. Sharing recipes, games, poems and articles, paintings or even putting up classic videos or self composed music are some of the ways to make the most use of blogs. And I once read this in a book, that if you are angry with someone, write an email about it but never send it. Just by writing about it we are mollified, then why to send it and make the situation worse. Let’s use blog just for the purpose for which it was made, to share thoughts, ideas that help the world in some way. I know, there exists an evil for every good, but if each one of us try to be good, I hope the power of blogging can actually help cope up with many problems।

This is my view ,I look forward to any cogent arguments against my view.