NIGHTMARE

I wrote the following "story" a few months ago, on a momentary whim.It was just one of those sudden,weird ideas,really-thoughts that "jump" into my head at a moments notice.

Critics observed that the story is inspired,albeit unconsciously, by an old Uttam Kumar film. Want to decide for yourself? Please read on...

She saw him, again.

Even as his mouth transformed into a long, needle-like shape, his entire face seemed to contour into a sinister, mocking smile. The now familiar pair of greedy eyes spoke of the inevitable danger as the dark figure stole towards her across the cold floor, overwhelmed by the desire to suck out every drop of blood circulating through her veins...
She let out a piercing scream that echoed through the empty night.

Early next morning, a young woman hurried down a New York sidewalk. With every step she took, she put up a fierce protest against the powerful wind that threatened to push her back.
The woman was Violet Isabel, a brown-eyed, raven-tressed damsel who spent the hours of daylight working as a lobby-receptionist at the grand Hilton hotel in Times Square and whiled away the better part of the night on the dance floor of elite clubs. From time to time, she glanced down at her wrist watch anxiously, a deep frown etched across her forehead. Lack of sleep the night before had left unsightly dark circles under soft, brown eyes, which shone with some secret fear.
Fifteen minutes later, the lights in a posh residential building were switched on.
“I’m glad you called, but at such an unearthly hour…” Dr. Jones spoke, his voice trailing off into uncertainty.
Miss Isabel was lucky, and she knew it. It was very seldom that a psychologist as renowned as Dr. Jones took so much interest in a case. So much so that they did not mind allowing the patient into the privacy of their home even in early morning, hours before the door of his chamber were opened to the usual crowd.

“Doctor, I am terribly sorry to disturb you” she said apologetically. “I simply had to see you. I saw IT again.”
These seemingly simple words had a dramatic effect on Dr. Jones.
An electrical excitement ran down his spine and he looked into her frightened eyes intently. Miss Isabel had been coming to him for a month now, with complaints of a terrible sight that left her sweating uncontrollably even on chilly, winter nights.

"Must have been pretty real, to have sent her running to me without any care for the time or place."
Even as he thought, he sprang up from his chair and bolted the gaping door behind him.
“I have no intentions of adding to your fear, Miss Isabel”, he explained, on turning around just in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of renewed anxiety in the brown eyes. “I closed the door as assurance to discuss this serious matter away from anyone listening on the sly and also to, err, protect you from any devil waiting by the door with a raised dagger”
Violet permitted herself a faint smile.
“I am terribly ashamed of my cowardice, Doctor”; she said “I was terrorized by what I saw---“
“By what you think you saw” the psychologist corrected her. “For all the evidence you have, it might be nothing but a stupid nightmare after some hardcore drinking at one of the clubs you frequent, I suppose”
Had he said this a couple of weeks ago, Violet would have turned the brightest shade of tomato-red. But now, intense fear had erased almost every other emotion from her system. She looked into the doctor’s eyes pleadingly.
“You may think I’m imagining it, and it’s some sort of disease, but, believe me, Doctor, it was surreal. If only you knew what it feels like to look into the cruel eyes of someone about to kill you...and that needle-like thing in place of his mouth-one moment, he was smiling like a mad man, the next moment, his mouth transformed into a sharp needle, like...like...”
“Like this?” Dr. Jones inquired, advancing towards the slender figure resting on the patient’s chair, just as his mouth gradually transfigured into a long, needle-like form, his eyes blazing with the familiar feeling of uncontrollable greed...

That Night. (Continued)

Part IV

"Is everything okay,Officer?"

The sharp panic in Grandma's voice pricked through my numb senses, like hot iron on frozen flesh.

"Apparently,no".said Mr. Stuart, of the local police station.

Mr. Stuart had arrived a quarter of an hour ago,but it felt as though weeks had passed since I'd run into Dad in the corridor.Failing to recognize him in the dark, I'd thought the man at the window was after me!

As I was told later,Dad had woken up at my terrified screams and rushed out to see what had happened.
"The way you shrieked- I nearly jumped out of my skin! I thought you were dying" he now says.

After an unsuccessful search for the man in my bedroom,the entire family(for my screams had spared none-not even Tabby,the house cat),rushed out into the garden for one last try.

There we found him.

He was resting against the wall by my window,his eyes shut as though fast asleep.

I don't remember well,but that's probably when Mom called the police.

"Here,we found this in the coat pocket"said Mr. Stuart,placing something small on Dad's open palm.
It was a yellow torch.
Beads of sweat trickled down from my forehead.Something seemed to turn in my stomach.

"We also went through his bag",Mr. Stuart continued "Found a water container and an empty food can.We believe he was travelling far.had been walking a great deal, by the terrible state of his shoes", he added with a dry chuckle.

"Who is he?" Mom asked.

For some reason, my hands felt hot and sweaty.

"Was" The officer corrected Mom. "The man was completely exhausted when he came here.Looks like he wanted to rest in the garden.The experts' been checking him.Says he's been dead for at least four hours.Over fatigue suspected",he said impassively, as though he'd just been commenting on the weather.

"But,I thought you said he was at your window less than an hour ago?"Grandma's said,looking into my face.Her voice sounded strange and distant,though she was sitting right beside me.Her face strained to feign calmness.

I tried to nod,but my head wouldn't move.I thought of the stranger at the window,the steely gaze of a man who was supposed to be dead and cold.

Something sour oozed up my throat.I threw up on the carpet.

That Night (Continued)

Part - III

Seconds later, or so it seemed, I had the distinct feeling of being poked in the eyes with red hot ambers. I sat up on bed with a startle and looked around wildly, scanning the room for the sleep-depraving source of light. As the object in question gradually zoomed into focus, I stared.
A few feet from where I lay was the face of a stranger, looking in through the window.
My first thought was that my friends,those idiots,were playing some stupid joke on me.Squinting in the harsh light, however, a mere glance at the face ruled out the sweet possibility of my friends sneaking up to the house in the middle of the night,hoping to "scare the living daylights out of me".
It was the face of a man, the collars of his coat turned up to hide all but his steely, grey eyes, his raised hand gripping an electric torch that had jerked me from the gentle arms of sleep. The fine lines around his hard eyes was proof enough that he was much, much older than Jack, Davis or any of the other local kids I knew.
Here was a man at my window, his cold grey eyes boring into mine.
Pathetically unoriginal as it may sound, a cold shudder slithered down my spine. It felt as if someone had emptied a tray full of ice inside the back of my shirt. At that moment, the rest of the world seemed to heat up and evaporate; all I could remember was a pair of impassive, grey eyes commanding my gaze, penetrating my mind, uncoiling my deepest fears.
I hope that is justification enough for my next course of action.
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I could almost feel the warm air rushing out of the lungs and my vocal cords vibrating at break-neck speed. And with that, I lunged at the door and scooted out into the dark corridor as fast as my feet would go, preparing to crash into my parents room.

To be Continued...

That Night (Contd.)

Part II

It was an extraordinarily quiet night. Usually, I could hear the summer breeze whispering through the tall trees in the lane outside.
That night, however, it seemed as though nature too had fallen asleep. No hooting owls, no rat scurrying noisily across the garden outside, no neighborhood dog barking at a daring mouse out for a moonlit walk. The silence was all consuming—it felt as though some supernatural power had switched the world to “mute”.
I put down the Agatha Christie mystery I had been reading and looked up at the wall clock. It was half past midnight. I threw the book lazily across the room, watching it land on the mounting heap of books which I had borrowed from the local library but was yet to return.
I rose from bed and made my way to the window. The curtains were drawn apart and the inky blue night seemed to beckon from beyond. The silver Moon reigned over the heavens, her pale glow illuminating a cluster of houses not far from ours. My friends were somewhere out there, having a party, while I was made to stay at home like some pathetic five-year old.
I bit my lip to fight away the tentacles of envy that seemed to be groping their way into my mind. Not bothering to pull back the curtains, I switched off the night lamp and dropped down on the bed.In the sky, a floating cloud stole towards the moon and minutes later, the night drowned in darkness.

To be Continued...

That Night.

The following is based on a real incident that happened to a young girl not very long ago. Armed with a fascinating story to share, she decided to speak about it to fellow members of a popular website. I was captivated by the sheer extraordinariness of the incident, which turned out to be the sole inspiration for my next story,which I wil post in four parts:

PART - I

“See you later, Alligator!” croaked five voices as I went in through the little metal gate that set up a barrier between the dark lane and the front yard of my Grandma’s home.
“In a little while, Crocodiles!” I yelled back in reply.
In our usual goofy manner, the neighbourhood kids and I bade our farewell to each other as we parted for the night after a fun day comprising of volleyball, swimming and crisp fish fries at the beach.
My parents and I always flew down to Florida to spend our vacations with Grandma. This summer was no different. Considering I had been there every vacation for the past fourteen years, it was of little surprise that I shared a close friendship with most of the kids in the locality.
It was around quarter to ten in the night—not very unusual for kids to be out till then where my Grandma lived. However, my mother did not quite approve of some of the local kids, which explains why I had to go home even when all the rest were staying over at a friend’s house two stone’s throws away!
As I walked in through the front door (which was kept open till ten for my benefit), Grandma, who was sharing a large jug of hot cocoa with Mother, looked up and said, “There you are, young lady! How was your day?”
“Great! Of course, would’ve been better if I could stay over at Sally’s place” I answered, stealing a glance towards Mother.
“You want a cuppa?” she asked, waving her hand towards the cocoa drink.
“Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ll call it a day” and I went up to the couch to hug them good night.
Little did I know that this was the night that would haunt me for years to come.


To be continued...