Gohar: An Extremely Chilling Horror

The Black Ball

Christina arrived at Gor's house swiftly, her official vehicle stopping sharply at the gate. It was quiet. Both Gor and Emily were not home, and Mareeta, looking frail but alert, opened the door for Christina. After introducing herself, Christina requested to check Gor's room. Mareeta hesitated, but allowed her inside, silently observing from the doorway.

Gor's room was neat. Too neat. Christina moved slowly towards the small table where a few books were stacked neatly, alongside scattered pens and pencils. She felt a cold draft, though the window was closed. Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the drawing book she'd been searching for, the same one Gor had been using the day she met him.

With great care, Christina opened the book and began flipping through its pages. The first few drawings seemed innocent enough—Gor and a girl, likely Meera, hand-in-hand. But as she turned the pages, the images became darker, rougher, as if something was gnawing at the edges of the child's mind.

Then, she saw it.

A crude sketch of four children standing around another child, their faces expressionless, their bodies shaded with thick, black strokes. Christina felt a chill run down her spine. The next drawing showed a child on a bicycle, alone on a dark path. Her heart raced. She could sense something was wrong—deeply wrong.

And then, there it was—the drawing she feared most. A child, standing atop a towering building, drawn in frantic, desperate lines. Her breath caught. She turned the page and found an unsettling image: a girl standing on a large black sphere. The darkness of the pencil lines seemed to swallow the page.

Finally, the last drawing. A man, or at least what looked like one, with a star on his hat. Christina's heart pounded. She was certain this was meant to be a policeman.

Her thoughts raced, her mind trying to make sense of the bizarre drawings. A big black sphere? Was it... a tank? Her eyes narrowed, staring at the rough, chaotic lines. Then, it hit her. The black sphere could be the water tank she'd seen on the roof in a previous investigation. The pieces started to fit together, but unease clung to her like a shadow.

"I'm taking this with me for further investigation," Christina said, her voice unsteady as she turned to Mareeta. Without waiting for a response, she hurried out of the house.

On the way, she called her assistant. "Get me Kim's address," she demanded. The response came quickly, and soon, Christina found herself speeding towards Arzumanyan Street.

At Kim's house, Rosalin, Kim's mother, opened the door. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and her voice was shaky as she greeted Christina. When Rosalin realized why Christina was there, she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Christina comforted her briefly before getting to the point.

"Can you show me Kim's room?"

Rosalin silently pointed to a small door. Christina stepped inside, scanning the room. It felt cold, too cold for a child's room. Kim's clothes were still in the wardrobe, and the outfit she'd worn that night lay neatly on the bed. Nothing seemed out of place... yet, everything felt wrong.

"Was the front door open when you returned that night?" Christina asked, her tone sharp.

"No," Rosalin replied through trembling lips. "But... the back door was."

Christina felt her pulse quicken. She followed Rosalin down a narrow corridor to the back of the house, where a door led to a small courtyard and a staircase.

"Where does this lead?" Christina asked, staring at the steps.

"To the roof," Rosalin whispered. "We barely use it."

Christina nodded and climbed the creaking stairs, her heart racing with each step. At the top, the roof was bare, save for a table, a few scattered chairs, and the large, black water tank looming in the corner.

The tank.

Christina's eyes locked on it. The drawing. The black sphere. Her hands were trembling as she approached it. She climbed the ladder slowly, her breath shallow. The lid was heavy, and when she lifted it, darkness spilled out. She grabbed her flashlight and shone it inside.

Her stomach dropped. Floating just beneath the surface, something pale, something lifeless. Her hands went numb, the flashlight slipping from her grasp and plunging into the dark water. She barely caught herself before falling, clinging to the ladder as a wave of nausea hit her.

Kim.

Christina stumbled back, sitting heavily on a concrete block, her head spinning. She quickly pulled out her phone, her fingers shaking as she dialed the police.

"They need to get here now," she gasped into the phone, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rosalin, watching from below, saw the look on Christina's face. She didn't need to hear the words. She knew. The grief-stricken wail that tore from her throat echoed through the empty rooftop.

When the police arrived, it didn't take long to recover Kim's body. Naked, cold, and lifeless, she had been floating in that water tank for God knows how long.

Christina stood back, her heart heavy. The drawing... Gor's drawing. He had known. But how?