“You should not go to the palace after sunset” – the old man warned the young gentleman.

The young gentleman was an architect who had come to the village to renovate the old palace.

He asked ‘why?’

‘Don’t you know, the palace is cursed by the ghost of jeera tai’ – old man replied.

‘Hahaha, are you crazy old man?’ snubbed the young gentleman.

‘Ghost exists only in horror story books. It is because of the blind superstition of people like you that our country is still considered the third world.‘

‘I request you please don’t go, every guy who has ever tried to stay for the night in the palace has suffered a tragic death.’ The old man pleaded to the young gentleman.

‘Hahahaa, I’m different. I will prove this old myth is nothing but a complete lie.’ the gentleman remarked.

‘They all said they were different but there dead bodies told a different story. Babu, you are a nice educated young man go back to the city. Don’t be a reckless fool. Listen to my advice‘ – joining his both hands, the old man again pleaded.

‘No. I am going to the palace’ and he started walking towards the old palace..

It is a long walk towards the palace..

He walks, he walks, he walks..

During the walk, his mind was preoccupied with the forewarning of the old man.

He reached the deserted old palace.

The gigantic palace stood at the corner of the forest.

It was as dark as a night with out a star in the sky.

There were dark corners everywhere, he could sense the  dark shadows lurking in the still air, along with a faint smell of death hanging in the chilling darkness of the night.

He entered the palace and close the door.

As he walked on the floorboards, he heard the whisper of an old women echoed with the sound of footsteps that were coming from nowhere.

The wind was blowing inside the palace and the curtains shook like they were laughing.

He tried to light the candle but the strong wind shove it off.

He tried to rush towards the door and started pushing it but the lock was jammed.

There was a dark unseen energy that drains the clean air and turns it sour, breathing it in causes your lungs to quiver.

His heart started pounding, hands started sweating and he was scared.

The he heard a noise that could not possibly be human, it was terror-filled and nightmarish.

It had a wail of horror, a keen that would chill you to the marrow.

He was gasping for breath, hoping to find something to hold onto, sweating profusely.

Finally, he fell on the ground.

Next day, in the village everyone talked about “how ghost of Jeera Tai ate another man”.

Next day, in the city the doctor read the post mortem report of the gentleman where the cause of death was ‘a heart attack‘.

 

prAts!