Anthology of weird stories

The bargain with Bon Bibi

The monsoon rains lashed against the rickety bus, the wind howling like a banshee through the gaps in the rusted frame. Maya, huddled in a corner seat, pulled her dupatta tighter, the damp fabric clinging uncomfortably to her skin. Inside the bus, the air crackled with a nervous energy, punctuated by the rhythmic chanting of an old woman with kohl-rimmed eyes who clutched a worn copy of the Bhagavad Gita. Maya, usually chatty and energetic, sat eerily silent, the weight of their destination pressing on her chest.

They were headed to Sundarbans, a labyrinthine network of mangrove forests at the tip of India, bordering Bangladesh. Her aunt Nani, a renowned botanist, had gone missing there a week ago. The official search had been called off, deeming the dense, treacherous terrain too risky. But Maya couldn't let go. Nani, with her wild, silver hair and boundless curiosity, had been more than just an aunt; she'd been a second mother, a confidante.

The bus lurched to a halt in a dusty village on the fringes of the Sundarbans. Maya, the only one to disembark, was met by skepticism and veiled warnings. The villagers spoke in hushed tones of the "Bon Bibi," a vengeful spirit of the forest, said to lure outsiders to their doom. Maya, though raised in the bustling city of Mumbai, held a deep respect for her heritage, a sliver of unease creeping into her heart.

She found a weathered fisherman named Ashok willing to take her into the Sundarbans on his small boat. The journey was a sensory assault - the pungent smell of decaying vegetation, the suffocating humidity, the endless, emerald maze of trees with their tangled roots reaching into the murky water like skeletal fingers. Ashok, a wiry man with sun-baked skin and a stoic demeanor, spoke little, his eyes constantly scanning the dense foliage.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an unearthly glow on the water, an unsettling silence descended. The rhythmic chirping of insects had died down, replaced by an oppressive stillness. Maya shivered, a primal fear gripping her. Ashok pointed ahead. An abandoned research station, its windows boarded up, skeletal and foreboding against the twilight sky.

Nani had been staying here. Fear warred with determination within Maya. Ashok, refusing to go any further, promised to pick her up at dawn. Maya, armed with a flashlight and a backpack full of supplies, stepped onto the creaking jetty leading to the station.

The building was eerily quiet. Dust motes danced in the beam of her flashlight as she explored the deserted rooms. Papers lay scattered on desks, the air thick with the smell of damp earth and something... metallic? In one room, overturned furniture and a smashed microscope spoke of a struggle. Her heart hammered in her chest.

Suddenly, a bone-chilling shriek echoed through the building. It wasn't human, but a sound that scraped at the edges of sanity. Maya spun around, the beam of her flashlight catching movement at the end of a darkened hallway. A tall, gaunt figure, shrouded in tattered white rags, emerged. Its face was obscured by shadows, but its eyes – luminous, emerald green orbs – locked onto Maya.

She screamed, a primal, terror-filled sound, and bolted for the exit. The figure gave chase, its movements impossible for a human, a chilling combination of speed and agility. Maya stumbled through the overgrown foliage outside, the figure gaining on her, its unearthly shrieks splitting the night.

She tripped, scraping her hands on the rough ground. As she scrambled to her feet, the figure loomed over her. Fear paralyzed her, but then, instinct took over. She grabbed a piece of driftwood lying nearby and swung it wildly, the wood connecting with a sickening thud. The figure let out a screech, a sound that sent shivers down her spine, and retreated back into the darkness.

Maya collapsed onto the damp earth, her body shaking uncontrollably. Dawn seemed an eternity away. As she sat there, her fear slowly morphing into a steely resolve, she noticed something strange on the ground - an ornately carved silver locket. It had been open when struck by the driftwood, revealing a faded photograph tucked inside. It was Nani, her face etched with a worry Maya had never seen before.