Shadows

2. Episodes- Part 1

It was a bright, sunny day. There was a swirl of dust particles visible in the lone bright ray of sunlight that came through the slits of the window into Frank's room. As his younger brother called it, the air was filled with "sunworms", which were harmless pests which lived in sunlight. The innocent ramblings of his brother always made him smile.

The day had started out like any other day in the summer vacations. He had woken up late, had a brunch at twelve and gone to his room to continue watching the thriller series he had been watching since the start of his holidays. The perfect group of teenagers had taken down yet another formidable villain by playing a clever, out of the world, and for Frank, a ridiculous trick to catch the murderer red-handed. Then they had heroically taken over the villain, and the episode ended with the two main couples kissing each other, enjoying the rare moments of happiness they got before another mystery started off in the next season. He watched with a sigh as the phone screen went to sleep. Yet another disappointing story. He wished sometimes that he could write such series. He had a million ideas on how to make them better than the ending that had taken place. But he sighed again sadly. No one would give him, a "normal" boy, a chance to actually get involved with such an unrealistic career.

Little did he know that he was not going to write such an episode, but live one of them the very same day.

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The episode of his life started when he was cycling around the neighborhood with his best friend, Casey. Casey was about a year older than Frank, but was shorter than Frank. His height was a matter of joke to the whole school, but no one laughed much about it. They had seen him throw some punches in the local boxing tournament. In fact, his height made him more agile, hence a stronger opponent to beat. He was well built for a boy of sixteen.

They cycled close to the huge house at the western end of the nearby park. They always loved looking at the graceful stone mansion, which looked like it had come straight out of the medieval times. He had also seen the old man who lived there alone. He wasn't very old, a man of fifty maybe, with silver hair and no beard. He wore an expensive looking gold-rimmed glasses, and dressed like he still lived in the nineties, which probably he did. There was an air of comfort to him, and the children loved the "old grandpa who lived in the scary house and gave them lots of candies on Halloween". No one really knew much about him, apart from the fact that he was the last living descendant of a long dead line of rum makers, upon the legacy of whom the stone mansion had been built.

But today there was something disturbing about it. They both stopped their cycles in front of the big rusted gates, sensing something wrong.

Casey spotted it first.

"What the fu..." he was cut short as the sound of something breaking echoed from inside the house. It sounded like a huge glass window or vase had been smashed. The thing Casey had spotted was the broken-down door of the mansion, and it had been taken apart by something which chillingly seemed like an axe.

Frank had visited Mr. Chipping many times, to discuss his huge collection of classic novels, which had fascinated Frank. He had spent hours reading these books which were from Mr. Chipping's private library, a stunning wooden room with books to last a lifetime. He loved the feeling of being there, smelling the intoxicating mixture of old wood, polish and aging books. But now he rushed in with a feeling far from that: horror. He could hear Casey behind him. Inside, the floor was strewn with the broken remains of one of Mr. Chipping's most expensive and favorite china vases, and Mr. Chipping himself stood across the room, his hands covered in blood.

"Well, come on in and help me boys!"

***************

"Careful there boy, you'll step on the glass." Frank narrowly missed stepping on one of the glass shards on the floor at Mr. Chipping's warning. They were helping him clean the remnants of the broken vase, while Mr. Chipping had gone to clean the blood off his hands. He had returned and was now trying to shift the victim, or so Frank thought, across the room, away from plain sight through the now non-existent front door.

The man who now lay sprawled in Mr. Chipping's basement, had left a trail of blood as he was dragged there by Mr. Chipping. He was surprisingly strong, given his age. While cleaning up this trail of blood, Frank finally found his voice.

"Wha-What happened to that- Is he dead?!" The last part of the question came out louder than he had intended.

"Keep it low boy! We don't want any more visitors!"

Mr. Chipping took them through the events, explaining how this man had barged into the house, and Mr. Chipping, who was by chance in the garden, had managed to sneak up behind him and hit him from behind. He had been acting in self-defense.

"Is he dead?" Casey asked in a small voice.

"Ahh, I hope not." Mr. Chipping said airily. That did not assure any of them.

"But why? Who was he?"

Mr. Chipping's face turned dark, and both the friends understood immediately that he definitely knew him.

"You children better get home soon, and forget you saw anything here."

"But what about that..."

"I'll take care of him! But you better keep silent about this, I don't want the matters to get worse."

The tone of his voice, what he had seen Mr. Chipping do in the last one hour, convinced Frank that he didn't know anything about Mr. Chipping even though he had been visiting him from so long. He was far from the jolly grandpa the children of the town knew, or the crazily rich literature enthusiast Frank had seen before.

As they got up to leave, they heard a car pull up outside. Strong arms gripped both the boys in a steely grip and pulled them down; Mr. Chipping's arms.

Mr. chipping whispered to them hastily," Looks like you kids aren't getting out tonight. Come quickly and quietly behind me."

Initially, Frank was surprised Mr. Chipping dragged them away to the library, but as he made his way inside quietly, he saw the reason. The men outside were loading revolvers, and making their way towards the house.
They hadn't thankfully noticed movement inside. It seemed like the unconscious man had some friends.

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As you can tell, this story will be published in parts. Hope you stay hooked!
shreyaacharya2 did find something interesting 😁