Short Horror Story : Christopher

We've arrived at a cabin by a river. It's quite little, and we're surrounded by thick trees. The small town is one of the few places on the planet where everyone knows everyone, where the same family have existed for centuries, and where nothing seems to change. A peaceful village where nothing ever happens, where the biggest scandal is the loss of a neighbours, where all the young people have long since left, leaving just the elderly to die away. Christopher was one of the one who get abandoned. He was previously the rightful caregiver to the fortune of the town's wealthiest family. He was only old and tired now, feeling every bone crumble like the old wood in his large mansion, hopelessly grasping to a long-lost inheritance, fading away in dusty rooms day by day.

My father said Christopher used to be one of the brightest human being, but everything changed since the people there started to leave the town day by day. Shockingly, Christopher was a good friend of my father too he said. In order to make him happy again, my father asked for me and my friend to pay Christopher a visit. So, we drove to his mansion. His home appears to be in a state of disarray. Because my other friends were too terrified to knock on his pathetic door, I decided to knock.

KNOCK, KNOCK!

Someone peered through the blinders at the entrance. We had seen him. With his huge crimson eyes, he stared right at us. When he opened the door, all he did was gazed at us. We were trembling, right then I bravely said "Hello, Christopher, I'm sorry for bothering you, but you must remember my father, Charlie? Do you know who Charlie Murphy is? He said that you two used to be friends". Christopher just stood there motionless staring at us, up and down. "I recall him." He stated this while staring me down. I informed him about the visit and suggested that we take him outside for some fresh air. He declined. We then decided to have a brief conversation with him inside his home. We waited for him to invite us into his home, but he remained silent. He didn't say anything. He simply stood in front of his door, blocking the view of his living room.

He abruptly told us to leave his property. "GET OUT OF MY HOME! GET OUT OF HERE AND NEVER RETURN! ". He became enraged and yelled at us. I attempted to reassure him by telling him that everything was fine and that we were only passing through. He then dashed inside and banged the front door shut. I could hear something scrambling on the floor, assuming he grabbed something. When Christopher pulled out his long gun and levelled it at us, we were stunned. "I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE!" We hurried out of his house, jumped in the car, and drove straight home. My father contacted me while we were on the road, still reeling from what had just happened.

"Hello, son?" "Yes?". I replied while panting and gasping for breath. My father spoke out. I was taken aback. My fingers were trembling. My face was drenched in sweat. My friends were terrified and kept asking me what my father had said. I went completely still. I couldn't say anything. The car came to a halt. We were in the middle of nowhere on a quiet road. I came to a sudden standstill in my car and looked at my friends. Sweats were still dripping down my face. I tried to mumble something. They were terrified as a result of my actions. I began to talk. What my father had just told me, I informed my friends. After that, we sped up the card and drove straight home without making any stops.

Christopher, it turns out, is no longer alive. He's been gone for a long time. Since the last ten years, no one has visited the town. That is something we are not aware of. Even my father had no idea. He hasn't heard from Christopher since my father left town. He assumed he was still alive because he had never heard that he was deceased. Then he attempted to contact one of his long-time friends who also lived in the area. Christopher had died, he added, and his body was discovered 5 years later because no one ever visited that town. His body was rotting and rats had gobbled it. My father inquired if we had already visited the place. We kept our mouths shut. We've just said no. Our hearts were still pounding deep within us at the time.

Our story went unheard. Nobody knew about it. We simply remained silent in order to forget about what had happened. Even to this day, I keep it hidden from my father. Christopher's huge crimson eyes, staring directly at us, are still fresh in our mind. That is just something that is hard to forget and we tend to keep it to ourselves.