#4 in aimtoengage
#64 in Fantasy.. Want to get a collection of stories in all genres, of varied tasted and interests? Here are the yarns of stories I weave... A unique collection of 500 words one-shots of different tastes for the #aimtoengage conte...
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In the '90s, Bangalore was abuzz with rumours of a witch walking the streets in the dead of the night, knocking on doors and calling out to victims in the voice of their mother. If the door was answered, the person died. The solution? Write "Nale ba" on the door which means come tomorrow, this meant the witch would return the next day, see the sign and the cycle would continue.
The rumor had shaken down many believers but I got to know the tales just that day. And I blew them off as vague superstitions.
"Don't dare disrespect the dark power. It can destroy you," Asha warned.
"I am surprised that the witch was literate and was considerate enough to not disturb the residents after seeing the sign. She probably got sick of coming again and again," I commented, utterly disinterested.
Asha made a face and stormed out of the hotel room, where we had a party.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Someone was banging on my door.
One of my friends moved to the door.
I was too engrossed in music to care.
After sometime I looked around suddenly. There was no one.
Sweat broke out on my forehead as I realized that something was definitely wrong.
I went to the door and called the others.
No answer.
To my utter horror, there was a hand print on my door, and it was fresh blood.
I crept back to the bed, wrapped myself up in the covers, and sat there staring at the closed door. I had just narrowly escaped the clutches of the witch.
I dialed Asha's number.
"Yes," a sleepy voice answered.
"Are you at home?" I asked frantically.
"Yes, what's up?"
"Umm... Nothing," I lied.
I couldn’t just let her get in the mess too.
I sat awake the whole night and fell asleep at the break of dawn.
I told no one. I was scared of the darkness, scared of the unknown, scared of death.
My friends were all deemed missing. No one could give me any idea about them. The police searched and eventually gave up.
Suffering from insomnia for days, I was close to hysteria as the mysterious voice continued to call me, in forms of different people who denied ever coming to visit me.
I had stopped answering all calls at the door. I sat for days on end, nor letting even letting food in.
Sitting in that lonely room, being hounded by fears, I dreamt of being tortured, sacrificed, burnt alive. I dreamt of darkness, of pain, of death.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Finally," a husky voice said as I opened the door.
I deftly pulled out a concealed knife and slashed out with it.
And there was standing Asha, holding her bleeding hand, glaring at me.
I collapsed due to fatigue and starvation.
When I woke up in hospital, I got to know that Asha worked with a trafficking ring and they had been kidnapping people under the guise of the fated call.
Asha had confessed her crimes.
500 words completed...
A/N Thanks for reading this. Hope it is appropriate for fright Thanks Ambassadors for this Urban legends prompt
🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳 Dedicated to IndiaCentral as this legend is Indian. 🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳
