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That Frequent Visitor: Every Face Has A Darker Side (The Ghost Whisperer Chronicles Book 1)

Page 4

by John Harker


  Shiuli felt her mind slipping away into an alluring trance. This mansion was on the tip of Fort Cochin, the shore on the other side of the island. It was her next destination. The mansion was calling out her name. She could hear it and involuntarily her body gave in and those two beautiful feet started walking towards the dock. Her eyes were cold as if they were stoned.

  Her quest just began. She prepared for her arrival at the destination.

  The Clifford Mansion.

  Chapter 10

  Varma’s Apartment, Vypeen Island

  The Varmas were engrossed in a tremulous discussion with the author, although his sister, the reputed journalist was literally unknown to the Malayalee royal family. This was typical, people in Kerala preferred local news and movies over national ones, owing to the adhesiveness to their mother tongue, Malayalam. And it was highly unlikely that a mass English author of Indian origin would have such a huge impact in the lives of the average Malayalee, for they have a trait by virtue of which one would not even look at books written by people like him. They always preferred international authors or award winning ones when it came to non-Malayalam literature. Dutta’s stronghold had been Delhi, Mumbai and Kolkata where people poured in packs to buy his entertaining novels. Pakhi felt herself getting alienated as the discussion went on and that is when she looked around for her niece. Shiuli was not to be seen in the room; she made a quick search in the other rooms and then went outside the apartment looking for the little girl. The apartment’s front gate opened to a sandy shore that welcomed the saline breeze from the Arabian Sea. The view was brilliant and anyone with the least passion for art would end up creating a masterpiece when the sun went down from that view. There were very few people on the beach, mostly couples from the apartment. She did not find her niece making sand castles as she had expected. Anxiety started growing inside of her as she took few steps towards the eastern dock. A fisherman halted the young journalist by stepping in front of her and warned ‘Madam, please do not go to the old dock, it’s not a good time.’

  She was startled to hear an angler speaking such fluent English, ‘I am sorry, what old dock? I am looking for my niece. She was with us upstairs, and then she seems to have disappeared. Have you seen a fair skinned girl with Brown eyes, about this tall?’ she held her palm face down and placed it near her abdomen, ‘Have you seen her? She’s fair with pink cheeks and light brown hair cut short. She’d be carrying a teddy bear.’

  ‘Madam, I understand your anxiety, but I am afraid I saw a girl like the one described pass this way.’ The fisherman recollected.

  ‘Why did not you stop her? You are stopping a grown up woman like me, so why did not you stop her from going to the eastern dock?’

  ‘I was on my boat; I saw her standing right here. She was looking at the Visitor’s Mansion on the other side of the cliff. I blinked my eye and when I opened, she had disappeared.’

  ‘Disappeared?’ Pakhi was startled.

  ‘She must have jumped onto the last ferry or something. But I did not see any ferry around.’

  ‘The last ferry? What do you mean by the last ferry?’ She asked.

  ‘We do not carry tourists to the eastern dock after sunset, so the ferry and boats that are open for the public run only until sunset. It is not an auspicious place for outsiders after sunset.’ There was a clear sign of warning in the fisherman’s throaty voice.

  Perplexed by what she just heard, Pakhi tried to negotiate ‘But I must go and get my niece back.’

  ‘She is definitely there. But you must not go.’

  ‘Are you insane? She is sixteen, and like you said, an outsider! I am going there and I need,’ she glanced at the fisherman’s wooden boat, ‘your help!’

  ‘I am afraid I cannot…’

  ‘Just keep this and take me there,’ Pakhi emptied her wallet into the fisherman’s withered hand, ‘let’s go now!’

  The fisherman was not sure about what he was doing, but he could not refuse so much money. There were half a dozen thousand notes which was more money than what he would earn in a month. Enough money to feed his entire family. He turned around and pushed his boat back into the sea. Pakhi was already in the boat with an oar in her hand. She tossed the second oar at the fisherman, he was quick to catch it and they set sail towards the eastern dock. Pakhi held the oar with her left hand; she brought her cellphone out with the right hand and quickly sent an SOS message to her brother with her location details. It read thus,

  Shiuli lost. Must have gone to eastern dock alone. M on ma way. Cm quickly!

  Pakhi’s nerves were freezing with every passing moment and the feeling of eerie delirium crept back into her strong willed mind. The huge coconut palms lined up in horrifying silhouettes on the eastern dock reminded her of the fact that Shiuli was fascinated by coconut palms earlier that day while coming from the airport. She prayed for Shiuli’s well-being and safety.

  Ten minutes later, the fisherman carefully pulled the boat to the eastern dock and Pakhi threw away the ore into his boat and jumped out on the shore.

  ‘Would you please ask these people if they had seen my niece?’ Pakhi pleaded.

  ‘Madam, I am afraid I cannot. I do not wish to succumb to the evil this land places on the outsiders who step on it after sunset. Please forgive me; you may have your money back.’ The fisherman hesitatingly took out the currency notes that she had handed him minutes ago. He had a gloomy thwart in his face, the gloom of departing with something priceless.

  ‘Keep the money.’ Pakhi dejectedly said and rushed towards the couple of shops that were still open – a tea stall and a souvenir shop that sold kites and hats. They were closing down for the day as well.

  ‘Did you see a little girl around here somewhere?’ She asked the tea seller.

  The tea-seller looked at his neighbor helplessly. He could not understand what the outsider had spoken in a foreign language.

  ‘Ividennu oru kochu pennu poyathu kondo ennu chodichatha ee sthree. Kandutundo?’ came a familiar voice from behind, it was the fisherman. Pakhi was more than thankful to the literate fisherman.

  ‘Kandirunnu, aval mele keri poyi. Aa pretha kottarathil!’ the tea-seller explained in his native tongue with utmost horror in his small eyes. The horror was magnified by the light of the lantern.

  ‘What did he say?’ Pakhi turned towards the fisherman and asked.

  ‘He says the girl had taken the path…’ he continued in a whisper, ‘to the haunted mansion!’

  Pakhi did not waste a second to hear the next exchange of words in the native tongue. She switched on her cellphone’s flashlight and ran up the curved path that led to the great mansion on top of the cliff. There were voices that called out from the back trying to stop her from committing such a grave mistake but she was determined on getting back her niece. She ran and panted upon reaching the top, and there it stood right before her, a giant mansion and a red sky behind it. The broken glass windows seemed like vents of grief stricken eyes that were laughing at the young outsider. She closed her eyes to forget the horrifying scene. With a heavy sigh of air, she opened her eyes to look around. There was no sign of Shiuli or anything related to her.

  Oh god! I do not believe in you, but I need you right now. Please help me find Shiuli. Please!

  She prayed to the One whom she did not believe- God. After the windows, it was the turn of the dried up bushes and tall coconut palms to pick on her mind. The sea breeze had taken form of a heavier wind and it pushed into the woman’s spine and froze the blood flow in her veins. She noticed that the front door had been open; perhaps Shiuli had entered the mansion.

  An outsider inside!

  She took another deep breath, ‘There are no ghosts, no legends. They are just superficial tales made up by the illiterate and ignorant natives. I am a woman of the city, and an educated and independent woman, I do not believe in such things and I do not fear ghosts.’

  A Chennaya or jackal howled from somewhere behind and it was enough to put a tempo
rary break on her heart’s functioning. Her frozen blood was melted by horror and vaporized inside her veins. She took a step forward.

  ‘What are you doing?’ said a vaguely familiar voice as Pakhi felt a cold hand on her shivering back.

  Pakhi was shocked by the touch and voice. Her eyes filled up and she turned around slowly, hoping that it was not the ghost that haunted the mansion.

  ‘Do you know that this house is haunted?’ the voice spoke. It was a familiar voicePakhi, not belonging to any of her close relatives or friends, but she had definitely heard it somewhere.

  She opened her eyes and a figure revealed itself. The figure of a man who was overweight and had tanned skin, along with a vertical stroke of Gopichandan on his forehead; a familiar round face which she tried to place.

  Both of them looked at each other trying to recollect where they had seen each other before.

  ‘Ah! I have seen you. You are the womanu who forgot her phonu in the Delhi metro, are not you?’ The man seemed to recollect.

  ‘Yes I remember you. Mr. Iyer?’ Pakhi stammered doubtfully as she was relieved to see a familiar face at the most unfamiliar spot.

  ‘You remember my name, but what are you doing here?’

  ‘I… I… my niece she came here, she is inside I believe. Please help me.’ She had never imagined in her slightest dreams that she would be begging for help from a total stranger. This was the second instance from the day.

  ‘Ayyo Guruvayurappa! How is it possible?’ he exclaimed in a state of confusion.

  ‘Why? People saw her walking up the path.’

  ‘Yes, I heard, but it is impossible.’ Iyer started walking towards the door in amazement. He stopped at the door, placed his right hand under the door’s handle, and spoke in disbelief,

  ‘I had locked this door right before sunset with my hands. How can it be opened like this? Nobody else has its keys. Your niece could not have come here. She must be on Vypeen Island only.’ He turned around with wide open eyes.

  ‘Please save my niece.’ Pakhi went on her knees and pleaded.

  ‘You should not be here; this place is unholy for outsiders.’

  ‘Why the fuck is everyone essaying this outsider thing? I do not believe in myths or legends.’

  ‘Myths are for children. This legend is a fact, and the mansion is visited by the legend every time an outsider steps on this land. Beware of…’ the next three words were spoken in words frozen like ice, ‘…that frequent visitor.’

  There was a shrieking cry of a little girl from inside. They heard it and the wind blew hard as a school of bats resting inside the mansion rushed through the broken window in a state of utter commotion. Iyer unlocked the door and rushed inside with Pakhi.

  Chapter 11

  Five minutes ago

  The door opened by itself and Shiuli effortlessly slid inside Clifford Mansion. She was welcomed by abandoned cobwebs that had inhabited the residence for ages, interwoven into an intrinsic work of art. She spat out the dust that kissed her mouth. The wall was studded with crumbling material and mural paintings of the long gone owners of the mansion. Despite the darkness, she could see everything clearly as if somebody had lit up the entire mansion just for her. She looked at each picture with an extraneous marvel of recognition as if she had known all of them before. She walked past the hallway into the dining room where there was a life size portrait of a middle aged British man with a polished wooden walking stick resting stylishly under the palm of his left hand. The mighty grin on his face conveyed vanity and simplicity at the same time. Shiuli was lured towards the portrait and determined was she to touch the portrait with her hand.

  There was a howl of a Chennaaya outside somewhere and it was accompanied by the sound of footsteps; quick and restless ones. The footsteps were getting closer and closer and before she knew it, something pulled with sheer force. The strength of the arm that pulled up Shiuli forced her to turn around. The trance was broken and all of a sudden the imaginary light that illuminated the mansion disappeared and Shiuli screamed in horror upon witnessing the darkness. She shrieked for help. Another hand placed itself on her mouth and she could not scream anymore. She resisted with the strength of the weak.

  The hand brought a lantern near her and the milky face of the nine-year-old glowed golden yellow. Shiuli saw what held her; the diabolic hands of a demonic man with a chiseled face, broken teeth and a rotten smile of his wicked lips.

  ‘You pesky little rodent, who sent you here?’ The man asked.

  His words were accompanied by the smell of tobacco that was mixed with something weird and unknown to the girl; she noted the redness in his eyes.

  ‘I think the little girl cannot speak because I am not letting her speak. Let us rip her body apart after having some fun with it, what do you say?’ The second man suggested. He was the one who had kept his hand in her mouth.

  ‘Only an idiot would walk into this mansion at this hour and I guess you have been sent for us to feast upon.’ He burst into a luciferous laugh and his partner joined in.

  Shiuli was afraid. Her eyes filled with tears and she wanted to cry, but alas she suffocated as the man had covered her nostrils along with her mouth.

  The sound of thunder broke out in the sky outside awakening the hundred odd bats that were resting upstairs. The cloud of furious bats rushed downstairs and made their way towards the hallway where the two men were about to torture little Shiuli.

  ‘What the fuck is happening?’ The man with chiseled face asked.

  ‘I think the thunder woke them up.’ The other reasoned.

  But before they could say anything else, they witnessed something extraordinary. A spark ignited itself on the wall that gradually turned itself into an oval glow that surrounded the big life-sized portrait of the EnglishmanEnglishmanEnglishman. The two men saw the light particles bursting into the canvas and a moment of blinding illumination left the most astonishing marvel in front of them. The EnglishmanEnglishman took a three dimensional form and was standing right in front of the villains who had captured the little girl. There was anger in the man’s sharp eyes, fresh as if they came out of a painting on the wall, and indeed they had. The projection of the EnglishmanEnglishmanEnglishman moved towards the two men who dropped the little girl on the dirty floor. The white man raised his walking stick mightily and wended it on the scoundrels. One of them turned around and ran for his life. The other one with the chiseled face seemed paralyzed by the paranormal sight and urinated on the floor. The smell was dirty and that of malted beverage. The cloud of bats followed the path of the white man’s walking stick and surrounded the scoundrel. The EnglishmanEnglishmanEnglishman pushed his right hand into the blazer’s breast-pocket and started searching for something. An air of disappointment hit his face as he came out empty handed. He sighed and ordered the bats to attack the goon. He ran away trying to dodge the bats.

  Shiuli witnessed the marvel, shocked and relieved at the same time. The white man’s projection looked down at the girl. There was anxiety in her eyes but not a bit of fear of the apparition. The projection’s stare turned into a friendly grin and gave her his right hand. Shiuli stretched out her hand curiously when she heard a woman screaming out her name.

  ‘Shiuli, Oh God! Are you alright, darling?’ Pakhi ran towards her with the flashlight. She was accompanied by a fat man whom Shiuli did not recognize.

  ‘Pishi! Yes I am alright, thanks to…’ she turned around but there was nobody, and the magical light had disappeared, ‘…the visitor…’ she whispered.

  The anxious aunt hugged her niece. She heard more footsteps outside. The fat man was flashing his torchlight down the stairs and on the wall to look for any other intruders.

  ‘They were drug abusers. Very common in this part of the city. It’s an isolated place and nobody ever dares to come up here. The perfect safe house!’ the fat Iyer said conclusively.

  ‘Were these the haunting visitors they were talking about?’ Pakhi asked while holding Shiuli tigh
tly to her bosom.

  ‘No… No, they are just intruders, the living ones.’ He switched off the flashlight and walked towards them. ‘The one who visits this mansion frequently is not amongst the living.’

  ‘What if they were…’ Pakhi was interrupted by the sound of people rushing in. A familiar voice spoke first.

  ‘Shiuli… Piku… God, are you girls all right? We saw two people jumping into the sea, what was that?’ Parosh asked as he panted having ascended the path at the speed of the wind. He continued, ‘I got your SOS message but I could not connect to your number. Your number was unreachable.’

  ‘It is difficult to get a good range for outsiders here,’ Iyer reprimanded in a haunting tone.

  ‘Who is this gentleman, I believe we have not been introduced yet.’

  ‘My name is Iyer, Ramaprasad Iyer. I am the caretaker of Clifford Mansion.’

  ‘I am Parosh Chandra Dutta and I think we should get out of here quickly before something befalls us.’

  Shiuli did not speak a word. She was as silent as the sea that had calmed down after the thunder and lightning. Parosh picked her up and carried her outside. Pakhi and Iyer followed. Parosh understood that she needed some time and extra care to drive off the trauma of facing such a haunting situation. Shiuli had grown pale. She embraced her father and rested her chin on her father’s shoulder and then looked ahead at the wall at the far end of the dining room where the portrait was hung. It was dark, very dark. The imaginary light had disappeared and so had the projection of the white man.

  And then when she had reached the doorstep, the portrait that was now far away down the hallway, and she witnessed another miracle; there was a bright spark across the hall that was followed by a crackling laugh which was heard by none but Shiuli. ‘Thank you Mr. Visitor…’ she whispered.

 

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