14
The wood beneath me
was on the verge of collapsing but held strangely enough. I carried on, one
step after another, until my body leaned forwards into the descent, the
handrail beneath my sticky palm rough. Halfway down, however, I realised the
sound of my own footsteps had changed, as though the stairs were covered in
fabric. Even the smell of dust and moisture thickened abruptly, laced with
something rotten to the core and eerily sweet, like liquefied flesh broken down
by critter.
At the bottom, the
stairwell opened into a narrow hallway. I knew instantly that this place should
not exist. It was simply too wide for the building’s foundation. But here it
was, nonetheless. I pressed on despite this insight, ducking slightly, the key
to room 102 still clenched in my fist, though it was useless now.
Right then, the
light at the far end swayed as if caught by something that had yet to reach me.
When I reached the source of light at last, an old oil lamp hung on a hook with
its glass cracked, the flame inside burning with no visible fuel. And next to
it, mounted into the wall, was a covered mirror, almost identical to the one I
had seen in the caretaker’s hut, but definitely older.
I pulled the cover down,
catching my reflection briefly, but did not linger. What I saw was a slightly
distorted reflection of what I was supposed to look like, only I couldn’t name
what was wrong with it, only sense it. But there was no time to study
why that was the case, because somewhere up ahead in the narrow corridor,
something shifted and caught my attention.
A scrape, like bare
feet dragging over stone.
I froze.
It was the creature
again. Coming closer.
But I couldn’t
discern from which direction it was coming. All I knew was that time was
running low and that I had nowhere else to go. As I mentioned, I couldn’t tell
whether the creature was behind me or in front of me, whether it was descending
that strange stairwell or somewhere farther ahead in the corridor before me.
And so, I moved – and that, quickly yet cautiously.
Deeper.
And deeper…
Until the corridor
narrowed to the point my shoulders brushed against the walls and I had to bend
my knees to get through the place. Even then, I couldn’t tell whether the
creature was getting closer or farther away. It was just there, constantly in
the background, driving me up the wall and forcing me to press on.
Moments later, the
space opened into a chamber. Abruptly. Giving me no time to explore my
confusion and bewilderment at how this was even possible. I no longer had to
duck my head either; the ceiling had now become vaulted and high, and at the
centre was the figure. I backed away on instinct, my breath catching in my dry
throat, as I shivered beyond control.
But the creature did
not move. Neither did it hiss nor growl; instead, it just observed me as I
observed it.
Until then.
In my attempts to
flee, to return to the narrow corridor, my feet caught something. I couldn’t
see what it was, nor was I interested. My only focus was the creature, which
twitched suddenly and raised its head towards me.
Then… the dragging
resumed.
I couldn’t move,
though. My feet were locked in place as though an unseen force had pinned me
against the floor. Still, I tried. I fought back to take control of my limbs
and flee. Yet all I could do was watch in horror as the creature drew closer,
the blade scraping against the floor, tracing a path on the hard surface.
I blinked hard and stopped
breathing, bracing for whatever was coming my way, certain that the end had
come. But it didn’t. Just like all the other times the creature came for my
head – playing games with me, teasing me as if I were a toy for it to play
tricks on and mess with. When I opened my eyes again, I was alone. But not only
that. I stood once more in the corridor outside room 102, in the right wing of
the building, where the plate over the guestroom now hung upside down, crimson
liquid spilling downwards.
Blood. Fresh blood.
Not mine.
I staggered back as
the realisation hit me. Whose blood was this?
Then I heard it
again, that sound, and my frantic eyes snapped towards the other end of the
corridor, where the walls seemed to stretch and close in around me, tilting on
its axis, until the contours of the creature came into existence. Shit! Instinctively,
my hand reached for the door, the one that should have led me back into room
102, but when I tried the handle, it opened up into another hallway – one I did
not recognise.
But that
realisation did not stop me. All I wanted to do was to get away from the
creature, find a place it could not enter and pursue me, though I knew this was
easier said than done. I had gone in circles, deeper and deeper underground,
and yet not once did I retrace my steps back to the entrance. The building kept
rearranging itself. Every step I took led me closer to my doom, trapping me
inside a maze with no escape in sight.
The light above
flickered eerily as I sprinted down the hallway, then gradually steadied as I
too was forced to slow down – at a crossroads at the forking corridor before
me. This was new. I had not been here before. Progress. Sure, but where did
these corridors lead? Down again or… to the exit?
I turned left,
hoping for a miracle, only to find myself back at the forking corridor. So, I
turned right this time. Even this one looped back to the forking corridor,
leading nowhere. That was when I took a moment to calm my frantic heart and the
panic rising in my chest, scanning my surroundings to find a way out of this
place. But there was no escape. No exit.
My whole body shook
out of control, my determination faltering as did the strength in my legs. And
I… ran. I didn’t even care which way was right anymore. I just ran wherever my
feet took me. By the third loop, the left hallway seemed to slope, subtly at
first, then more aggressively, descending. And then… a door appeared where
there had been none. It stood at the very end; there was a number carved on the
plate above it. I gulped hard and stepped back. Room 102? How could this be?
Was I losing my mind, or had everything that had happened up to this point been
nothing but a hallucination?
The door clicked
open as soon as I thrust the key in, giving way easily. Too easily to my
liking.
This wasn’t the
room I saw through the gap in the wall. It was more cramped, narrower, and suffocating
in a way far too difficult to describe with plain words. All I could rely on
was my instincts, instincts that told me something beyond what my mind was
capable of comprehending had taken place here. It wasn’t just the blood all
over the walls and floor that caused such thoughts to appear; it was also the photographs
that were pinned all over the place.
Black-and-white at
first, then the more recent ones coloured. Every one of them was of the burial
ground yet taken in different years; some showed the paths winding between the gravestones,
others the façade of the main building itself, and yet others showed the foot
of the forest where there was a hidden passage connecting the main building and
the adjacent forest.
But that wasn’t
what caused my breath to quicken and my hands to shake uncontrollably. In
nearly all of them, one figure appeared – sometimes blurred, sometimes half in
frame. The creature. But she hadn’t always been a monster. Not in the
black-and-white photographs.
I frowned. “Khāle?”
As the images progressed in time, she too did; her hair
retained some life, a dark sheen against the washed-out greens of the grass.
Her posture, though tired, was upright, her hands folded over that ledger I
found in the fake room 102. But with each successive photograph, she seemed
less alive; her shoulders kept hunching lower and lower, and a shadow seemed to
settle into the hollows beneath her eyes. Her skin grew pallid too, almost
waxen in the print. By the sixth photograph, the corners of her mouth drooped,
and her gaze had begun to lose focus; she was no longer focusing on the camera,
no longer seeing the world it captured. By the time I examined the last few prints,
colour had all but drained from her form, and her arms dangled as though
weighed by something invisible, barely skin and bones, fingers curling
unnaturally.
My frown deepened as I reached the last photograph taken of
her, and I staggered back. She stood beside that shallow grave I saw, the one
that had vanished the day after my arrival at the property. No longer human but
a monster, the exact copy of the hybrid creature that pursued me. But it wasn’t
this insight that caused me to take a closer look at the print.
Fire.
In the background, smoke was visible, as were what looked
like flames coming through from the heart of the village itself. I turned the photograph
over. There was no date on it. But it had to be a recent image, one taken several
years after her disappearance. And the fire—
A sudden cold
draught passed through the room right then, stirring the curves of the photographs,
and the bulb overhead swayed in cadence to something I couldn’t see, reacting
to something out of my reach, out of my understanding.
Then… the door flew
open.
I whipped around,
and the photograph slipped from my grasp just as the words of god recited
through the door like a visible gust of wind, bringing me to my knees and
overwhelming my senses.
Surah Al-Ma’idah
5:20-5: 24:
“And remember
when Moses said to his people, “O my people! Remember Allah’s favours upon you
when He raised prophets from among you, made you sovereign, and gave you what
He had never given anyone in the world. O
my people! Enter the Holy Land which Allah has destined for you to
enter. And do not turn back or else you will become losers.”
My trembling hands
shot to my ears, trying to take cover from the voice ringing in my ears,
causing them to bleed. But the voice did not cease, did not show mercy, forcing
me to listen to its revelation.
“They replied,
“O Moses! There is an enormously powerful people there, so we will never be
able to enter it until they leave. If they do, then we will enter!” Two God-fearing men who had been blessed by
Allah said, “Surprise them through the gate. If you do, you will certainly
prevail. Put your trust in Allah if you are truly believers.”
Through the open door, cockroaches once again infested the
floor and walls, creeping closer and taking over the chamber. I spun in place
like a madman, ears covered still and eyes bloodshot, breath shallow. They were
everywhere! They were—
“Yet they said,
“O Moses! Still we will never enter as long as they remain there. So go, both
you and your Lord, and fight; we are staying right here!”
The voice repeated,
booming, louder.
“Yet they said,
“O Moses! Still we will never enter as long as they remain there. So go, both
you and your Lord, and fight; we are staying right here!”
The blood trickled
from my ears, seeping through my clenched fingers, just as a groan escaped from
my lips, and I collapsed on both knees.
The voice repeated
still.
“Yet they said,
“O Moses! Still we will never enter as long as they remain there. So go, both
you and your Lord, and fight; we are staying right here!”
I banged my head on
the floorboards, to the beat of the voice telling me things I wasn’t ready to
listen to. Over and over. Until blood soaked my face and an indentation
appeared on my forehead. Even then, I kept banging my head to the floor, unable
to stop the voice ringing in my ears – within me.
“Yet they said,
“O Moses! Still we will never enter as long as they remain there. So go, both
you and your Lord, and fight—”
The door slammed
shut.
I fell sideways to
the floor, passing out.
And the blood pooled beneath my unconscious body.
To be continued...
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