Chibu's Story

I found this story in an old CD full of my notes and reading materials .Chibu probably typed this in my laptop, before he had his own! The story is probably 2 years old...but it makes good reading post midnight.....

Lock, Stock and a Smoking Barrel

The moonlight flitted though the clouds, casting a silvery hue on the rooftop of the dark building. The shadow of the tall oak tree in the garden fell across the old wooden door. A gentle breeze sifted amongst the dried leaves blowing them across the overgrown garden path. All of this witnessed with awe and fear by a group of three boys standing by the old broken down garden gate. Sam, Draco and Fredrick were in their final years in college and were known for their spunk. So, they had taken up the challenge thrown out by a fellow student of spending a night at this old building around which many a ghost story has been woven.

As they looked at the building in the dim moonlight they all felt some of that spunk ebb away being replaced by a deep lump in the throat and a very uneasy feeling inside them. The constant chirping of crickets far from being comforting only added to the uneasiness. It all had a feeling of the supernatural around it. They cast nervous looks at each other, not wanting to be the first person to admit to being scared. Finally with a deep breath Sam pushed aside the old iron gate and walked in. With deep apprehension all over their faces, the other two followed.

No one said a word as they walked through the small overgrown garden path. They stopped whenever there was a rustle of leaves, jumped whenever a branch broke and cast nervous, fearful looks behind them every second. Finally after what felt like an eternity, they reached the main door. It was a huge door and with an enormous brass knocker on it but d wood had rotten away and the knocker was full of cobwebs and dust. They had been told that the door wouldn’t be locked as the locks had broken away long ago. Still it took some effort to push it open as it was heavy and jammed up in all these years of no one using it. Finally they got it half open with a loud creak. Sweaty and breathless from their exertion, fear was temporarily forgotten but the sight of the dark house with the moonlight coming in through a distant window to illuminate a rickety staircase leading upstairs brought a sudden feeling of foreboding in their minds. They all felt they didn’t belong there and there was someone or something there that was making its displeasure felt. The silence was a sign of impending doom. Their every breath was magnified, every small noise felt like a deathblow and every shadow looked to be alive and closing in on them. Keeping their reputation at college in mind and thoughts of the embarrassment that they would have to endure later was all that kept them from running away from that house at that very moment.

Finally Fredrick spoke up, “This place is giving me the spooks. Lets not go any more inside and just put on the candles and sit down here and wait for daybreak” . ”Fine by me”, said Sam, “Take out the candles Draco and some of those sandwiches. Maybe we won’t feel so uneasy if we eat. Would help us take our minds off these ghostly apparitions”. Draco took out the candles and the bundle of sandwiches and handed them over. They didn’t speak again as Sam and Draco lit up the candles and Fredrick unwrapped the sandwiches. As they munched on their sandwiches, Draco asked, “How did this house come to get a bad name do any of you know?”.”Yeah, I checked that up before coming” said Sam.

“This house was built in the beginning of the 19^th century by an Englishman. He lived here with his wife and son. It was a nice house with a colourful garden and they were all happy for a couple of years before trouble struck. The Englishman, his name was John Henderson, was a banker and the bank in which he worked went into debt and he not only lost his job but all his life’s savings that was deposited at that bank.

With no money left, and having difficulty providing his family with four square meals, John Henderson took to crime. He started off with petty thefts on railway carriages but very soon moved onto robbing shops and houses of influential people. He was never caught and though there were suspicions, nothing was ever proved. But then he made a daring plan. He decided he could end his life of crime if only he could pull of one more theft that would provide him with enough to go on with for the rest of his life. He made a plan to rob the Grand Central Bank. So he found the people who would help him and the weapons he would need and proceeded with it. But all did not go as per plan, one of his accomplices was really an informant for the cops and so when John Henderson and his henchmen arrived at the bank, they found the cops waiting. A furious gun battle started. All the thugs but John Henderson were killed for as the others fought, Henderson sneaked away and ran all the way back to his house. He ordered his son and wife to come run away with him at that very moment but before they could leave, the police had arrived and surrounded them. But instead of surrendering, Henderson, shot his wife and son and then turned the gun on himself and pulled the trigger. All three died right here in the room we are sitting  in now. After their deaths this house remained empty for a long time till an old couple bought it. Rumours are that they had seen Henderson’s ghost here walking about the porch one night when they returned late. They switched on the light thinking it was a burglar but it disappeared the moment they did so. Later on, a lot of strange incidents were reported like sounds of gunfire at night and things going missing from the room. Rattled by these incidents the couple sold off the house and a man bought it. Not much is known about him except he was rich but liked to live alone and hardly ever socialized. One night there was another sound of gunshot reported at night in this house by a neighbor and the next morning the new owner was found lying dead on the stairs but no bullet wound was found. Doctors accertained that he had died of a heart attack but there was deep lines of absolute terror etched on his face at the last moment before death and from then on no one has ever bought this house. There have been more reportings of gun shots and people claiming to have seen a man, stark white, looking pale walking around the premises at night. No one dares to step into this place out of fear and it has remained desolate and rumbling ever since.”

Silence greeted Sam as he finished his tale and then Fredrick spoke up, “Boy, if I had known that earlier, I’d probably never had stepped foot inside this place.”.”Feeling scared now are you?”asked Draco, “Afraid of a gun tottering spook now eh?!”. “What are you gloating at?”retorted Fredrick, “your face while entering this building was stark white out of fear. In any case, I don’t really believe in ghosts but what I am afraid of is this  place could be the hideout of thieves and robbers. With no one daring to come in, they’d be absolutely safe here.”. “I doubt that” said Sam, “I heard the cops come here sometimes during the day to check if this place is being used for illegal means, but at night, even thieves and robbers stay far from this house.”.”But…” began Fredrick, but a sudden noise made his throat go try and he turned around with a jerk, the other three did the same. It was the sound of footsteps approaching them from the back, What they saw made their heart beats stop and they were galvanized with fear. Draco opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out. There standing a couple of feet away was man but this was no ordinary man, he was tall wearing a suit torn at places, his scraggy beard barely covered a deep scar on his cheek and right there on his temple was a deep hole, like a boring. There was a silvery glow about the man and deep menace in his eyes. He glared at them and they just sat there looking, petrified. They were looking at the ghost of John Henderson.

As the three looked at him, his hands moved towards his pocket and from there emerged the long black snout of a country revolver. “RUN!!” screamed Sam but his muscles refused to move. He sat there motionless and stunned. An unknown, unseen force was holding him and his friends back. They could not do anything. He looked up with pleading eyes only to see the barrel of the gun planted inches from his face. His heartbeat had stopped long ago. He felt breathless, his eyes were swimming in and out of darkness and his head was spinning. The pitch black surroundings engulfed him and he fell on the floor and stayed motionless.

That night Mr.Jankinsen’s sleep was broken. He got up wondering what those noises were that woke him up. He climbed out of bed for a drink of water and looked out of the window. Far n the distance he could see the moonlight shimmering on the top branches of an oak tree. Its shadow falling upon a dark broken down building and realization struck with an almighty blow. He had been awaken by the sound of gunshots, not one but three gunshots. The glass of water fell from his trembling hands and broke into little pieces.

Next day, the police entered the old building early in the morning as a bunch of college goers looked on fearfully from the gate. Soon they knew. Three boys were found lying dead in the front room. There were no bullet wounds and it was assumed that they died of a cardiac arrest brought about by shock because on all three’s faces, etched in deep lines was an expression of a deep, dark and unimaginable fear.