Stuck in a Pipeline





I visited him today and was tormented by the sight of him.
He was always an excellent student and deserved to be working along with me or even at a higher position.

Our college hostel was old but a homely place. One could see the college, our football ground and the forest beyond it from our hostel window. You could also see a sprawling mansion in the forest that hadn’t given into time.



One day we decided to be adventurous, to earn the fame that we craved from our hostel mates and to be legends who would be talked about for years by all the upcoming batches. That was the dream which made us walk to the same supposedly haunted mansion.



Two of our friends decided to stand guard outside while we crawled into the pipe which would take us to the courtyard at the centre of the house. He went first and I followed. It was a thin pipeline and its inside was covered with moss and grass.


We were halfway there when we heard our friends who were keeping watch run away.
As their footsteps receded into the night, I considered going back but he kept moving.


I could hear the dull thunk of metal as our elbows hit the pipe. We kept going with fear in our hearts and excitement pulsing through our veins.


When we reached the end all that we could see were overgrown weeds and abandoned furniture.
Disappointed that this was all the house had to offer, we shone our torch around to see if we could find anything when we saw a flash of white and heard something that made our blood turn cold.


We heard footsteps coming down from the wooden steps leading to the attic and the sound of anklets chiming kept coming closer and closer.
It seemed to ring in our ears in the eerie stillness of the night and became louder and louder.


I could take no more and started to crawl back.
He screamed with a voice that was shivering from pain and fear asking me to go faster.


Just then, I heard something heavy creep on the pipeline and saw a dent on top of it like someone was sitting on it.
I gulped and saw thick and lustrous black hair begin to fall from the opening, blocking all light.

 

It kept falling, creating a pool of hair. I couldn’t find my voice to scream out loud and felt shivers run down my spine.






reactid=”.2.1:5:1:$comment465996550242206_486300374878490:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$text62:0″>He tried to untangle his foot which was caught in a plant when suddenly everything went still and we could see nothing except for black.


He looked up, saw a pale forehead appear slowly over the pipe which was devoid of any colour and which kept creeping down. He shrunk back, closed his eyes and felt a cold fingernail scrape his chin.
He whimpered.


I could take no more. I crawled back and ran back to the hostel without a backward glance.


I still carry the guilt of that moment in my heart.


Today he sits at the mental asylum writing, “I can see her” on the walls.


He can still hear her anklets and see her face. I look at his face and see a terror that does not subside.

 

 


Image Source : Flickr.com


 


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