soullesspen

[soullesspen]

Hi everyone, I'm new here and excited to share my first story! (Constructive criticism is very welcome, by the way) !

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The Candle.

I have always felt evenings are weird, it seems like a blend of both worlds. Beautiful, no doubt, but weird. The darkness of the advancing night etching closer and closer to swallow the red aura marking the death of day. The sun passes on its light to the moon, who doesn't really handle the job that well. I mean, it's still dark, isn't it? The only time when you'll see both bats swooshing through the trees and birds flying high up in the sky. Street lights blink open when it's not completely dark. Some people set off to work, while others return home looking so tired as if they just sold their souls. Perhaps they did, how else would they buy stuff? Adults are weird too.

But not as weird as the battered old one-storeyed empty house down our street. Like those few old men in the metro who refuse an empty seat. Standing crookedly on its worn foundations with only the sheer power of will, as if still trying to maintain its reputation in front of its younger neighbors. How can the same house look so different during the day and at night? During the day, you wouldn't bat an eye at this house. It blends in so easily with its neighbors that most people forget it even exists. During night though, it seems like one of those houses you see in those horror TV shows. Like a fusion of the normal and the paranormal. An old dried-up tree, with leaves grazing the foggy broken glass paned windows and a rusty old mailbox on its dark grayish lawn, that had lost its hue due to years of neglect. However, what caught my eye today was none of its usual hideousness.

Behind the broken attic window, just above the front door, I saw a faint yellow glow. Is that a candle? Who would light a candle in an empty house? I hadn't quite followed my thoughts to a conclusion when I found the answer to it. Draped completely in white, a hooded figure, stared intently at the candle, like a moth admiring a flame. I gazed at it for a while, but could not make any sense of it. The more I tried to understand what it was, the more my eyes seemed to blur, not unlike paying attention in math class. Like trying to walk straight through a fog or trying to remember a dream you just had, whatever it was, it seemed to be just outside my reach. I was awake, wasn't I? Then, as if through the fog it turned towards me and I froze. Those intense white eyes seem to glare at my soul. A chill ran down my spine. Panic-stricken, I tried to run, but I couldn't. My body wasn't mine anymore. It seemed to be calling at me. Unknowingly I took a step towards the house. No, I wanted to. I wanted to see the candle, its warm aura seemed to call me. I couldn't look away. I stepped past the broken fence, onto the overgrown lawn.

“Ravi?... Ravi !? ”

An arm tugged me back into reality. I broke out of the trance. It was Jyoti. I had forgotten he was here with me.

“What are you doing?? One minute we were talking and the next you're having a staring contest with someone? Your face is all red.”

I fell on my knees. I was sweating profusely.

Was it fear? fear of death? No, it didn't feel as simple as that.

It took me a while to regain my voice.

“I-”, I stuttered as I pointed at the window I was looking at. And not surprisingly, the figure was gone. But not the candle. I am not dumb, I know a ghost when I see one. Jyoti, on the other hand, laughed at me when I explained everything to him.

“Do you even know why that house is empty?”, he enquired.

Of course not. What ten-year-old would want to know about what happens in his neighborhood? We're more concerned about what happens in the next Power Rangers episode.

“Shall we go in? ”, I suggested.

“What? Didn't you just say you just saw a ghost? ”

“I'm still curious. Who wouldn't want to see a ghost up close? Plus, I want to check out the candle. Why would there be a candle in an empty house? Also, I've always wanted to go into the house but my father wouldn't let me. And I thought you weren't afraid of ghosts. ”

“Of course, I'm not afraid. I don't believe there is anything like a ghost. All those horror shows are fake. Don't you know that? ”

“People like you are the first ones to die in those shows. ”

“Fine. I’ll go! But you owe me a treat. ”

I knew taunting him would work. It's too easy. Also, I don't know why, but I knew it would be reassuring if I had Jyoti by my side. He's not at all skinny, but it would not be right to call him fat. He's somewhere in that sweet gray zone that parents want their kids to be. Overall, if I had to choose someone from a group of ten-year-olds to support me on my Ghostbuster mission, I would pick Jyoti because- well, he seems stronger than me.

“Sure! Who's a goood boy? ”

“Screw you! Not a dog treat. You'll treat me to the special panipuri down the street. ”

There goes my pocket money for this month, I thought.

Standing at the edge of the porch, we mustered our courage. As I stepped through the dark gray grass again, I realized how large they were. These seriously need a trim. Both of us knee-deep, we pushed through who knows how many creepy crawlies brushing against our legs, until we finally reached the balcony. Jyoti tried to peek inside through the windows but was thwarted by the thick layer of dust on it. I knocked at the door, mostly out of reflex. Jyoti looked at me ridiculously. “I panicked”, I gestured silently. “I'm with an idiot”, he gestured back. He made a face that my father makes when I do my homework. Geometry is hard, he doesn't realize that. He never had to do those.

For a while we stood silently, hoping that no response would come from the other side. Surely enough, no one opened the door. Well, at least now the ghost knows that we're polite intruders. We pushed the door open. It took some effort to push through years of dust and rusty hinges. However, a question bugged me, was it always unlocked?

As soon as we stepped in, a horrid stench hit me like a physical force. I retched. Covering my mouth with my hands, I ran to the nearest patch of grass. And, well, let's say I revisited my entire lunch, in reverse. There goes the chicken pakoras I had for lunch. “Chicken pakoras for lunch?” you'd ask. Perks of having a single parent. Of course, in return, I had to promise Dad I would bring an A+ in maths. A deal I am now regretting. Do I still have to keep my end of it? I groaned. Inhaling as much fresh air as possible I covered my nose and went back in. The rancid air still made my eyes water. Imagine smelly rotten cheese mixed with your father’s smelly socks that he has been wearing for a month. Jyoti gagged, a choke escaped from his mouth, but he carried on. I realized we had made another huge mistake. What ghostbuster doesn't bring a flashlight with him? A useless one of course. What will you hit the ghost with if it attacks you? It took a while for our eyes to adjust to the darkness. Faint light dripped through the dusty windows, turning the entire house a pale shade of brown. With tattered curtains and shredded wallpapers, the house added more flair to its decaying aesthetic. Just what you'd expect from a horror house. Thank god for the full moon today. Now I feel guilty for calling it useless earlier.

The first thing we noticed when we went in was a strange graffiti made on the floor. I have played Subway Surfers, of course, I know what graffiti is. Right in front of the door, a white outline of a person dancing. Not exactly dancing, it reminded me of when the Power Ranger villain is defeated and they lie down on the ground, just before exploding in bursts of color. Only it looked much more agonizing. With arms stretched towards the door like the person was crawling towards it. And there seemed to be some dried-up brown paint where the outline's stomach was supposed to be. Some dark moss had gathered over the paint. That's a weird art, I thought. Jyoti seemed to be confused as well. The more I looked at it, I realized the outline was too small to be an adult's. Probably some kid, who wanted his father to draw around him with chalk. My father once made a mark of my height on the door frame, but never on the floor. I'll probably ask him later. What a sweet memory, I thought. Forever engraved into the house.

We were both lost in our thoughts when we heard it. A soft creak, barely enough to be heard aloud. Footsteps! Right above us. The floor above squeaked ever so slightly with every step, and dust fell down as if marking the footprints of the resident above. The footprints stopped just before the door. I felt a familiar chill run down my spine. A wave of goosebumps ran through my arms. I glanced at Jyoti. His terrified face was more than enough to feed my ego. Did I finally make a believer out of him? Oh, what an addictive ecstasy it is to force someone to believe in what you know to be true. Through the fear, a smirk escaped my lips. He caught me looking and quickly handled himself. “Let's go up”, I gestured. He had to follow. It's a matter of his pride now.

A single staircase in front of us led to the attic. I realized the window was just above us, where the footsteps had stopped. With every step, the stairs groaned. I flinched. If only every house had these stairs, there would never be any theft. With Jyoti right on my heels, I went up, with less stealth than an elephant. Each creak echoed through the house, and with each step I took my heart sank. Every shadow I saw through the corner of my eye seemed to move ever so slightly. I kept glancing back, quietly hoping some adult would barge in to stop us from going further, but all I saw was Jyoti's face, now not even trying to hide his fear. Well, that didn't help with my nervousness. I could almost imagine my epitaph reading: “Curiosity killed the Ravi”. Is it just me or did it get slightly cold here? The rotten stench became more intense as we went up. My eyes watered as I tried not to gag again. With each step, I questioned my decision to come in here. Why did I even want to? What called me here? Is the candle that important? I thought of turning back but I knew I would never hear the end of it if I did from Jyoti. It's a matter of my pride now!

A strange light seemed to fill the room above. Is it the light of the candle? I froze in my tracks. Unfortunately Jyoti, not realizing that, kept walking, straight into me. Both of us stumbled forward and fell. Standing in front of the window, with its back towards us, the mysterious resident of this fine establishment and the source of this fragrant smell, that almost made me lose my breakfast too. Seeing it so close for the first time, I realized it was much smaller than the ghosts on TV. Through its pale glowing aura, I could make out the shape of a kid. Someone of my age. Is the kid whose outline is marked on the floor below? Is he looking out the window? No, through his vaguely transparent shape, I could make out a yellowish flicker.

Over at the window sill, stood the lonely candle. Its flames flickered with the evening breeze, dancing to the tunes of an unknown symphony. The rotten smell seemed to disappear, gradually turning into an intoxicating fragrance, truly this time. The tendrils of its smoke seem to strangle my entire being. Bit by bit I sensed I was losing myself. Pulling at my desires, it seems to want to say something to me. What does it want? No, it wants to give something. What can it give? Anything I want? What do I want? Can it show me the cartoon episode I missed yesterday? Even better, can it give me good grades in math? Even more, can I see my mother again? Something clicked inside me. Oh, the sweet joy of promised dreams. The tranquil peace that this flame offers. Are these really my thoughts? Is this what I want? Will it make me happy? I am always happy. How much more joy can it give? A voice whispered inside my soul, “More than you can ever imagine”. My legs gave away. My body is no longer under my control. Floating through clouds of unfulfilled fantasies, I inched closer and closer towards the flame. I stumbled but did not stop. I was exhilarated. I raised my arms, clawing at empty air. Trying to grab the candle. It's mine! Give me it! I want it! I tried to run towards it, but couldn't.

Something yanked me back with a jerk. My eyes flew open. With the annoyance of someone who had just been woken up from the happiest dream of his life, I turned around furiously. “Let go!”, I screamed. But the grip didn't loosen. It was Jyoti. His eyes wide and distorted from fear, stared fixedly in front of us. I followed his gaze and froze in terror. A few feet in front of us, the figure has turned around. Its skeleton hands stretched in front, welcoming its brethren into its arms. Skin dripped from its bones like wet sheets of paper. Is that what I was reaching for? I stepped back in disgust. For the first time, I saw its face up close. Or rather I didn't see it. Where its eyes were supposed to be were two empty pits of abyss. The shriveled mummified remains of its face seem overjoyed to find some company at long last. It took a step towards us.

We took one step back. With each move of this Tom and Jerry chase its expressions seem to darken. The overjoyed face gradually turned into a face of absolute wrath. Its wrinkled skin now resembled a predator snarling at its prey. A low guttural growl erupted from its within. Barely suppressing the urge to run, we kept our eyes on the monstrosity in front of us, as we inched closer and closer towards the stairs. Then in a split second, it all happened. Making a sharp shriek, like a banshee’s wail it leaped at us. Gliding through the air held by invisible strings, it caught up to us. Not wasting a moment's breath we dashed for the stairs. I was the first to reach it. Rushing down the stairs frantically, I had no time to look back. Then, my foot caught on something. The world shifted from beneath my feet. I tumbled down without any control. I lost count of the number of bruises I got or the number of stairs I skipped. I think I broke my ankle somewhere in between, and then thud. The ground put a halt to my motion. The floor where I fell, is now tinted with my blood. My ears are ringing. The world deafened me with the cry of a hundred crickets. A thousand needles drilled at my skull like spikes on an iron maiden.

Panic-stricken, I looked up. Has it caught up to me? What I saw up the stairs will be forever etched into my eyes. Halfway down the stairs, I saw Jyoti. But he was not alone. Suspended in the air, pulling by his leg was the figure in white. Its face is now more frightening than ever. Distorted with joy. It was ecstatic. Jyoti was now upside-down, frantically grasping at the ballisters, his face contorted in a mask of pure agony and terror, tears streaming down his face, his mouth open wide but unable to speak a word. No, he did, deafened by the blow I never heard it. I can only imagine how loud and agonizing the screams that erupted from him must have been as he was dragged away, etching marks of blood and nails on the wood. I can never forget the look in his eyes for as long as I live. As I lay petrified, I knew this was the end. I will be next. I had accepted it. Fatigue had finally caught up to me. Fear is a good thing sometimes, I thought, it makes you forget about the pain. My leg twisted at an unnatural angle, blood dripped down my chin, and I knew I would never escape. The pain steadily snaked its way up my legs, twisting at my nerves. Do I attempt to crawl my way out? Clawing through the wood and then the tall gray grass, passing through the shadows into the light? Will that be enough? The outline lying beside me seemed to disapprove. Gazing outside the door, the gleam of the street lights blurred gradually. Darkness crept up the edge of my eyes. My heart is beating faster than ever. The pain is unbearable now. The world turned black. I think I heard some footsteps. Is it finally back for me?

A sudden jerk. I felt myself being lifted. Then a gentle rumble gradually faded into a rhythmic lullaby. I know this feeling. I have experienced this many times before, falling asleep on the desk and waking up in my bed. I opened my eyes. Tucked in a blanket, cradled in the arms of my rescuer, my heart loosened up. Above my head, stars twinkled innocently, unmoved by the events of us petty mortals. The moon peeked guiltily through a few wisps of clouds scattered here and there. I turned my head to look behind us. A few houses away, I could see the House. Its dark face now radiated with blue and red flashing lights. A crowd had gathered around the ambulance. My father's face looked stern. Was he angry? Was he glad? I couldn't tell. I didn't really care. I snuggled closer into his warm cotton shirt. It's finally over. A single tear slipped down my face. I felt him tightening his grip as I again dove deep into my well-earned sleep.

I never asked him what they found in the house. And my father never spoke a word. But I knew what they'd find. Every now and then, from far away, I could still see the sweet soft yellow glow on the window, calling at me tirelessly, whispering dreams of the unknown. Through the murky shadows, I could see two shapes. Two moths now gathered at the flame. One of whom I know.

Open to suggestions and improvements!!

#short story #horror #light reading #original post #beginner writer