The Horrible House

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Perplexity and nervousness were perhaps the two cardinal emotions that discharged from her face, while she lifted her blue eyes to me. She hardly would have produced any sound; the next few seconds, but her eyes spoke to me, loud and clear. There was something bothering her, but she wasn’t in a position to say it to me.

A fraction of a moment was all it took for me to reckon the situation and, so I said, “Ma’am, may I come inside your house?” Asking for the permission was only a façade, because this time, I enforced my entry into the house, while disguising my intensions by asking for her permission.

The house seemed less of a house and more of a fortress, with heavy-duty iron bar fitted large windows, missing ventilator ducts, an almost funny sort of smoky stench in the air and the walls and ceiling had the silt of carbon all across. And not to forget, the whole house screamed revulsion, in the absence of any light source. The large windows were covered with thick & coal-black window blinds, which performed role of a shield between the outside and in, exceedingly well.

These thick & completely impervious black window blinds were one common element amongst every house in this locality, and this very thing had intrigued me to look for the real story behind the curtains.

“Ma’am, sorry for my intrusion into your home. But the matter is too important and your help can play an essential role in unearthing the truth.” I said to her remorsefully.

There was an absolute silence from the other end, as if she didn’t hear a thing I said. “Does she even understand the language I am speaking?” Thought flashed on my mind.

“Ma’am, do you fathom my words or not?” Abominably, I repeated myself yet again. Still not a word from her, but there was an exception in this instance, as she nodded her head to acknowledge. Despite being nonverbal, at last, a two way communication channel was established.

“What is your name, ma’am?” I probed her.

“Hmm yya mm aa nn. . .” She muffled.

“Can’t get you! Pardon me.” I told.

“Aaa iee yya mm ann. . .” She responded while opening her mouth, this time around.

“Holy mother of god!” I cried. A piece of her tongue was missing from its place. “How did this happen? Who did this to you?” It looked as if her tongue was surgically cut off with brute-force, as the scar tissues, on the outer lining of her tongue orated a vicious attack on it. “This was the reason why this poor soul was so silent, all this while.”

“Can you write and respond to my question?” I asked. She shook her head in disapproval, which meant sign language was the only mode of communication viable between us.

“Who did this horrible thing to you?” I quizzed.

She showed me a few hand gestures, but all of it was too convoluted for me to decipher anything.

Before I could ask her to elaborate it-for my understanding, the metallic gate squeaked. With speeds of lightning, she grabbed my hand and threw me into a big & old wooden chest, lying on one corner of the room.

Here I was, stuck inside a chest, in a bizarre house, with anonymous & peculiar people all around-and under these unfamiliar circumstances.

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End of Chapter- 8

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Previous Chapters:

1- Chapter- 1: The "Ancestral" Village
2- Chapter- 2: The Haveli
3- Chapter- 3: Legend of the Village
4- Chapter- 4: The Local Bazaar
5- Chapter- 5: The Banyan Tree
6- Chapter- 6: The Muddy Path
7- Chapter- 7: Open The Door

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