Fiction · Little stories

Arsee’s little stories 68

“I am petrified. I cannot sleep. I have no money to buy a new house and I have no means to rent one either. I am stuck in this apartment. My husband is away, he is in the navy. I am really really scared!” The priest could see that the young lady was shivering with fright as she spoke.“Please go on…,” Father Angelo said gently with a smile of reassurance.

“It was a week ago when it first happened. I got home late, it was way past midnight when I went to bed. At first I thought it was my window creaking but when it came again I was sure. There was a knocking from under my bed. Like someone was underneath, calling my attention. I sat up in bed. Too scared to move. Then it came again. Wild thoughts ran through my mind, robber, rapist, serial killer! I made a dash for the door, threw it open and grabbed the kitchen knife. Ready for any onslaught. None came. As dawn broke I checked under the bed and there was nothing, no one!”

The young lady took a sip of water and plunged right back into her tale. “By the time night came again I had succeeded in blaming my imagination for the previous night’s occurrences. But I was wrong. A little past midnight the knock came again. I froze. Then after a few minutes it came again, distinct, calling my attention, beckoning me. I had to look underneath, there was no other way. I steeled myself and peeped down. There under my bed lay an old man with knotty white hair, big red eyes and a smile that had some teeth missing and his gums bleeding. He wore a crumpled suit and black shoes. He raised a gnarled finger at me and said, ‘come on Julia, play with me’. I sprang out of bed and hid myself in the study till the morning came.”

Father Angelo held Julia’s hand and spoke compassionately, “Do not worry. I shall be around this evening. I shall bless the house with the light of our Lord and all shall be well.”

Later that evening she received a call from the Diocese. Father Angelo had taken ill all of a sudden and would not be able to visit her. She hung up, frightened all over again and then she heard a low raspy laugh. On the mirror behind her, written in blood were the words, “Father Angelo did not want us to play…

-Arsee.

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