The room froze, and I saw the look of horror descend on Steve. Eyes widened grotesquely, as he jerked up and swung towards the dimly lit hallway to the door.
"Listen to me," he whispered, his breathing quick, "Act normal. Don't do anything rash. He won't hurt you, trust me. Keep that window unlatched. I have a plan."
With that, moving like a shadow, he swiftly crept out of the house the way he had come.
I don't remember walking towards the door and opening it. An age could have come and gone, and I would not have noticed, dazed as I was by the bizarre events of the night. The next thing I remember was Steve, no, the man named Jack shaking me lightly and frowning with concern.
"Are you okay, hun?" He stroked my cheek softly. Never before had I felt someone's touch more repulsive. I could barely keep from flinching. "You look pale."
"I am fine, Steve." I plastered a smile on my face. "How was your day?"
"Oh, tough." He walked into the drawing room and slumped on the couch, groaning. "These crooks have no regard for my routine."
My chuckle sounded forced even to me. He didn't notice it, as he pulled of his jacket and pistol and threw them carelessly on the table, and clasped his hands behind his head.
"You had dinner?" He mumbled.
"Yeah." I strolled into the kitchen. "You?"
He stifled a yawn. "I just need to get some sleep. Been a long day."
****************
I could not close my eyes. The ticking of the clock and the sound of light breathing was all that reached my ears. It was strange to think how I had not been bothered by him at all for the last few days, but now that I knew, every slight movement of his filled me with dread. Made me fear for my life, in spite of whatever Steve had said. The things he had said, I was not even sure if I believed him yet. But still thought of his worn out face sent chills down my spine. I kept watching the clock on the wall, illuminated by the vestiges of pale, misty moonlight streaming from the small skylight.
A low bell announced midnight, and he turned towards me, putting an arm on my stiff body.
It was the fear that grips a child when she feel that a monster was hiding under her bed. Only in my case, the monster was on my bed. Like a child, I felt as if the monster would not hurt me if I pretended to be asleep. My legs were tingling from immobility. I dared not move, afraid of waking him up.
The clock hand slowly crept to 1.
A low rustle reminded me of the open window, inaudible to anyone but me, whose senses were heightened by terror. And I felt a chilling breeze flow into the room.
The loud noise of china vase shattering into pieces roused the monster beside me from his slumber with a gasp.
"What the hell was that?" He shouted, and I knew the answer.
Steve had made a blunder.
Hey hey, somebody get me some digital ink! I am out!
One thing I have realized, after denying it a hundred times, is that I am bad at sticking to schedule. So instead of lying that I will be updating within 48 hours, I am just gonna update once every week. How about that?
As always, if you liked it then consider giving a vote. And comments that point out mistakes and suggest improvements are the best. Be blunt, be harsh, I am never offended by constructive criticism. I only take it up as a challenge to do better.
Until next week, stay tuned fellas.
Ronnie Debb
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
On The Verge
हॉरर[Highest ranked #20 in HORROR] Eva says she is close to death. And it is equally obvious to the doctors that she is actually telling the truth. The 98 year old lady has been living in the asylum for more than half a decade. At least she wasn't still...
