A FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION

A Figment of my imagination

It was a night that was creepier than usual. Timmy, Sandy and Mikey were on their way to their aunt’s place. The drive was supposed to take only four hours. They had left home early in the afternoon. But traffic and bad weather ensured that they were still at least an hour away from their destination. And now this had to happen?

All four tyres of their 1982 Dodge were flat. Their father had given them the dark brown vehicle last fall. It was dark and was raining quite heavily. They had gotten off the freeway into a quaint little town for fuel and snacks. They had tanked up the vehicle and their tummies. Soon they were off again when it began to pour heavily. Visibility was low. They had just driven for 15 minutes when Mikey lost control and swerved off the road into the mud nearby.

“Just our darned luck!!” thought Mikey. Four flats and only one spare. Sandy and Timmy got out too. They were clearly 20 miles away from the town and roughly 10 miles from the freeway. What were they to do?

They decided to call for help. “Well now, somebody please tell me how this happened!” said Timmy to Mikey, “My mobile has no signal.” Mikey and Sandy looked at their mobiles and chorused “Ours too!” Now they were in a fix. Sandy checked the map. They were miles away from anywhere on the map. They decided to walk to the freeway and hopefully hitch a ride…

Fifteen minutes in the rain….

“Hey, look over there. There is a light across the field.” “Looks like a little house over there”. “Maybe they have a phone” and saying so the threesome trudged towards the house. The fields were barren as it looked like the harvesting had been completed awhile back. They reached the house and sprang up the steps. The steps made no sound. Sandy found this surprising. She jumped on the last step again. No Sound. “Well that was creepy, lets see who’s home” said Mikey. They knocked on the door. No answer. They knocked again. Still no answer. The wind howled through the rickety old building.

“Well, let’s go out to the back and see if anyone’s there!” As they turned, the door swung open with a slow creek. Inside sat an old man on an old chair facing the door. “Come in, my young friends.” Surprised, they walked in through the door. “I see you youngsters had a flat and you need to use my phone”. They were taken aback. How could he know? Before anyone could speak, the door banged behind them. They turned around and turned back to face the old man. All they saw was an empty chair.

“Well! Are you just gonna gape at the chair or what?” said the old man from the foot of the staircase. They turned towards him and a wave of relief washed over their faces. He had walked onto to the staircase. “The phone is up on the first floor. Follow me up the staircase. Watch your step” He smiled and began to climb. They climbed the staircase slowly following the old man. Soon they stepped into a long hallway. “The phone is at the end of the hallway. The portraits you see around you are painted from real instances”

They looked up at the portraits one by one. They were now scared for what they saw totally wiped their senses clean off their minds. The first portrait was of a man biting the neck of a crow. The second one was even scarier. The same man was plucking the ears of a rabbit with his hands. More gruesome photos followed as they realized that the person in the portraits looked like a younger version of the old guy.

As they turned to ask the old man, their eyes fell on the last portrait. They were shocked. The old man turned back at them and said “Here is my greatest masterpiece” A shrill scream pierced the silent night. There standing in the portrait was the same middle aged guy holding Timmy’s head, severed off the body, blood dripping all over him. A sickle was in his other hand. Mikey and Sandy turned to look and found Timmy missing. A shiver went up their spines as they slowly turned towards the old guy, only to see themselves facing a blank piece of wall. A phone was on the table nearby.

Mikey and Sandy began to sweat profusely. They had heard of terrifying experiences in lonely houses in horror movies and stories but now it looked like they were bang in the middle of one, themselves.

Sandy reached towards the phone and as she touched it, the phone rang. She jumped backwards crashing into someone. She turned around, saw Mikey and screamed. “What happened?” asked Mikey. “Nothing, I guess I am lil fidgety”, she said sheepishly.

They turned again and looked at the phone. It had stopped ringing. Mikey went towards it and lifted the receiver. It wasn’t dead. Surprised he quickly dialed 911 and the phone at the other end began to ring. Four rings later, somebody picked up the call and he heard a male voice telling him “Thank you for calling 911. You are not leaving this place alive. You are the last one. So die!!!!”

Shocked Mikey dropped the phone and turned around. Sandy was gone. He turned back towards the phone and staggered back. Looking at him was sandy’s face minus the eyes and ears. Her tongue was slit into two and her head was held by the man in the portrait.

He composed himself. This was another painting. He had to get out of here. He turned around and ran. As he ran, blood began flowing from all the portraits onto the floor. He slipped on the blood and fell face first. His face became red from the blood. He slipped and slided all the way towards the other end of the hallway. Then he stopped.

A brick wall stared scornfully at him. He looked around frantically. He was trapped in the hallway. He heard footsteps on the stairway but couldn’t find any way to the stairway. He looked around. He felt trapped like a caged animal. He suddenly saw an umbrella nearby and picked it up. The footsteps were getting closer. He looked around turning and caught the wall panel sliding open in the corner of his eye. He swung around to face his fate. In walked the middle aged man of the portrait. As Mikey stared at him, he thought again that this guy and the old guy were one and the same.

It was an old fashioned standoff: Mikey with the umbrella and the man with the sickle. The man rushed towards him, sickle raised in his hand. Mikey stepped forward and in one stabbing motion put the umbrella into the attacker’s eyeball. A hoarse scream filled the air. Mikey ran, slid forward and through the attacker’s legs straight into the entrance of the stairway. He got up just in time and looked back to see the assailant. All he saw was the old man looking at him with one eye. The other eye was bleeding profusely. The umbrella lay at his feet. He turned around, ran down the staircase and straight into the front door. The door opened automatically as he approached it and he found himself sprawled on the porch steps.

The footsteps began behind him. He got up and ran. A sharp pain rose in his right arm and a thin stream of blood began to flow from his eyebrow. He ran across the fields and towards the road where the Dodge was.

Ten minutes later…

He found the Dodge and stopped in his tracks. Timmy and Sandy were standing by it. A mechanic was near them and he had just fixed all four tyres. “Where were you?” asked Sandy, “You said that you were gonna get help and there has been no sign of you for the last two hours. What happened?” Mikey didn’t respond. He looked at himself; there were no signs of blood on him. “Nothing!” he replied.

They got back into the Dodge with Timmy at the wheel and Mikey alone in the back. The rain had stopped and they were back on the road. As they drove a bit, Mikey saw an old house in the distance. A little nearer to the road, he saw the old man with one eye smiling at him. A sharp pain rose in his right arm. His face became pale as he grabbed Timmy’s shirt. Timmy stopped and asked what happened? Mikey pointed in the direction of the old man and then Timmy said “I don’t see anything. Must be a figment of your imagination” and drove on.

“A figment of my imagination?” thought Mikey as he looked at the old man. The old man had a sickle in his hand!!!