It was a night in December 1922 . Light breeze embraced NewYork city in cold. David walked towards House 696 in Lenox Street.
Lying in the shadows of nearby apartments , house showed no distinction from the rest.
Instincts – The Strength that Detective David had in his profession. A career choice made not for glamour, but the steely resolve to analyze the unknowns; Again and Again, till all loose ends were tied.
He was here in New York on a purpose. More than a week went past , since his dear friend , Lieutenant Ray was found dead in this house. A house into which Ray moved a day prior to his death.
David, then in Boston, arrived a few days later . ‘Cardiac Arrest’ ,indicated the autopsy. ‘No signs of foul play’, said the department closure report.
David couldn’t but notice, the bewildered eyes of corpse in those photographs. At a young age of 28, athletic Ray was hardly a choice for heart disease .
All instincts lead David to Ray’s house.
Reaching under the police barrier tape, he opened the lever tumbler lock of main door. But for the furniture, everything lied unpacked around.
Lighting a candle, he walked past the living room to the darkness of others. Faint Chimes from a distant city clock, indicated the time to be half past eleven.
One hour into his arrival, David couldn’t find a stimulant to his doubts. Cold night and Eeriness in the Air, didn’t help his cause either.
On his way out of a room, he stumbled upon an open box of books. Through the flickering candlelight , Dave was bemused to see the subject of all those books.
His instincts reached a heightened awareness , as he picked the first one of them, titled, ‘House 696 – Possessed or Myth ? ‘
Fighting his beliefs and trusting his instincts , Dave threw the book and ran to front door. He fell against the dining table and doused his candle.
Through the fumble to light it again , David sensed with terror , the presence of unknown and its coldness next to him !
__END__
