Short Horror Story
Let me share a spine-chilling incident that happened to me. This was back when I lived in Char Imli area in Bhopal with my mother, maternal uncle, and aunt. Despite the area’s natural beauty with its lush greenery and dense trees, the atmosphere during the rainy season, particularly at night, could send shivers down your spine.
It was around August, and the entire area would transform during the rainy season. In the daytime, the rain would wash over the trees and plants, making everything glisten, but as night falls, the once beautiful area becomes eerily silent, with the trees swaying ominously in the wind.
I remember one evening vividly. I had just finished my evening classes and was making my way home on my scooter. The journey usually took about 45 minutes, and it was around 7:45 PM. Although my house was only 10 minutes away, the heavy rain slowed my progress.
As I approached my house, the rain intensified suddenly. Realizing I didn’t have my raincoat on, I decided to stop and retrieve it from the scooter’s trunk. The silence of the deserted Char Imli area was deafening, with no one in sight due to the darkness and rain.
I got off my scooter and began searching for my raincoat. In those moments, there was no one around, and the eerie silence only added to my unease. But as I sat back on my scooter, within seconds, a sense of dread washed over me.
I felt a sudden jolt as if someone was trying to get on the vehicle from behind. Panic gripped me as I looked around, but there was no one in sight. The feeling of unease only grew stronger.
Then, I heard it—a sound like someone tapping on the footrest of my scooter. My heart raced as I struggled to comprehend what was happening. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him—a figure emerging from the darkness. He was an old man dressed in white, with hair as white as snow.
He approached me with a laugh. “What’s the matter? Getting into accidents with vehicles today?” he chuckled. I was petrified, unable to move or speak. His hand outstretched towards my scooter’s handle. It felt as if time stood still as he drew closer and I got a glimpse of his aged wrinkled hand trying to grab my scooter's handle.
In a moment of sheer terror, I turned the key in the ignition and sped away, my raincoat barely covering me. I didn’t dare look back, too afraid of what I might see. When I finally reached home, I recounted the harrowing experience to my aunt, who scolded me for stopping in such a desolate place.
To this day, the memory of that encounter sends chills down my spine. The identity of the mysterious old man remains a mystery, leaving me haunted by the events of that fateful night in Char Imli.
