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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Horror / Scary
- Published: 03/11/2018
A DAY LIKE THAT
BY AYUSH KUMAR
She was stuck to the wall……holding her breath.
I cannot breathe….i cannot…..she kept telling herself.
A tap and another on the other side of wall announced his presence.
She stuck herself tightly to the wall trying to hold her breath as long as she could.
Her face became red.
The taps were louder.
She gave a last try to hold her breath.
She failed.
A hand broke through the wall and very soon her intestines were hanging in front of her eyes on the bloodied palm of the hand that had just tore apart her belly from behind.
She vomited blood. She died.
*********
The Santo Domingo Church was a Dominican church in the historical downtown of Santiago de Chile. It was located at the corner of Santo Domingo Street and 21 de Mayo Street. The main body of the church was built in ashlar masonry. The bell towers were constructed of clay brick masonry covered with stucco.
The Santo Domingo Church today was witnessing the funeral rites of Martina Medel. She was just sixteen years of Age. Her body was found in an unclaimed bungalow on the farthest corner of the 21 de Mayo Street by the night watchman. He fainted as he saw the condition in which her body was and then Martina’s parents arrived broken to find their only child was no more and some ghoul has devoured her.
*******
Arturo Jara smoked a Padrón as he softly rubbed his hand against his twist-in bun hair. The mutton chops on his face gave him a comic look of a rowdy which he was except for the word comic. It was when he was examining his polo coat that Marcelo Medel came to him.
“Sir you should once go to that bungalow,” pleaded Medel.
“Bribón! Rascal!” Exclaimed Jara under his breath.
“Look gentlemen the PDI is trying its best, we will soon find the killer.” Said Jara sternly.
Jara was the chief of Policía de Investigaciones de Chile or Investigations Police of Chile, popularly known as the PDI, who were the civilian police of Chile. Founded in 1933, it was one of two Chilean police bodies, along with the military police Carabineros de Chile. The PDI was the principle law enforcement arm of the Public Ministry of Chile in criminal investigation.
“Sir it is the question of justice for my child.” Cried Medel.
“Por qué no entiendes? Why don’t you understand?” cried Jara blowing a puff of strong tobacco in the air, “whosoever the killer was, he is not merry making in that bungalow…..diablos no es. Hell he is not…. So there is no reason left to search that bungalow. Now Piérdase. Get lost.” growled Jara.
Medel’s eyes turned red with anger. He banged the desk in front of Jara as he cried, “tu, perro! You dog! You people are our servants you will serve us no matter what happens no matter what it takes…. incluso tu vida! Even your life!”
Jara glared at Medel before calling a staff.
**********
The room was all messy; there was nothing significant noting other than the portrait of a man.
Jara read as he went closer struggling to remove some cobwebs as he cursed under his breath.
Maldito Viejo. Damn old man.
“Professor Jean Isla……1961 to 1986……,” grinned Jara as he examined the portrait of the passed professor, “The perro died young!” exclaimed Jara looking at his staff who shared the grin.
Medel stood silent by the side of a Chilean painting when Jara turned towards him, “there is nothing Mr. Medal te lo dije. I told you so.” Said Medal with a hint of accomplishment.
Without a word Medel walked out of the room in the road.
“idiota.idiot.” Whispered Jara as he too left the room signaling his Staff to get the locks.
Jara joined Medel out on the street. “There was nothing I told you.....”
Bang!!!
Jara’s sentence was interrupted by the door of the bungalow that shut with a bang.
Jara turned around so did Medel.
There was a silence.
“Maurico!” called Jara to his staff who was still in.
There was no answer.
Jara looked at Medel, who looked as if they both were sharing something common.
“Misericordia! Mercy!” Cried the staff from within. “Abre la puerta! Abre la puerta! Open the door!” begged the staff.
Jara ran for the door and started pulling the door by the knob.
Medel joined in.
“This is a monstruo .monster.” cried the staff, “Jesucristo, sálvame! Jesucristo, sálvame! Jesus Christ save me!”
All of a sudden the cries ceased as if there never was a cry.
Jara and Medel, who were unable to open the door, gazed at it in fear.
A devoured human head broke through the door.
Jara stepped back, “que mierda! What the….k!” He cried in agony.
Medel held him by his shoulder.
It was a human head appearing to be scratched and torn by some beast. The left over flesh hanged from the cheek bones. An eye was still left in the socket wide open and the other was gone. Blood spurted out from every inch of the human head.
Jara making his heart strong stepped forward he reached close to the broken through head.
“Save me!” cried the head as it grabbed Jara’s hand in his mouth.
“Jesús cristo! Jesus Christ!” Cried Jara in agony as he pulled out the head from the hole in the door and smashed it against a wall.
The head fell on the floor panting.
Medel crushed the panting head with a nearby flower pot.
Blood gushed from Jara’s hand he tied a handkerchief around his palm and kicked open the door.
He looked around with his service pistol in hand. Medel followed.
“What is that…,” pointed Medel on the floor.
Jara looked down.
There laid the bloodied torso of the staff. A few meters away laid his hands all bathed in blood followed by his legs.
“There are blood marks we can follow them to know how the killer escaped,” pointed Jara to Medel.
Why am I telling this to the perro thought Jara as he followed the blood marks. Medel followed in fear.
The blood marks brought them to the inner room.
The blood marks disappeared.
“Maltido! Damn!” cursed Jara.
Medel watched around wordlessly when it caught his eyes.
He put his hand on Jara’s shoulder. Jara turned to see Medel pointing at something.
He looked in the direction. His heart sank.
There was fresh blood on the mouth of Professor Jean isla’s portrait.
THE END.
A DAY LIKE THAT(Ayush Kumar)
A DAY LIKE THAT
BY AYUSH KUMAR
She was stuck to the wall……holding her breath.
I cannot breathe….i cannot…..she kept telling herself.
A tap and another on the other side of wall announced his presence.
She stuck herself tightly to the wall trying to hold her breath as long as she could.
Her face became red.
The taps were louder.
She gave a last try to hold her breath.
She failed.
A hand broke through the wall and very soon her intestines were hanging in front of her eyes on the bloodied palm of the hand that had just tore apart her belly from behind.
She vomited blood. She died.
*********
The Santo Domingo Church was a Dominican church in the historical downtown of Santiago de Chile. It was located at the corner of Santo Domingo Street and 21 de Mayo Street. The main body of the church was built in ashlar masonry. The bell towers were constructed of clay brick masonry covered with stucco.
The Santo Domingo Church today was witnessing the funeral rites of Martina Medel. She was just sixteen years of Age. Her body was found in an unclaimed bungalow on the farthest corner of the 21 de Mayo Street by the night watchman. He fainted as he saw the condition in which her body was and then Martina’s parents arrived broken to find their only child was no more and some ghoul has devoured her.
*******
Arturo Jara smoked a Padrón as he softly rubbed his hand against his twist-in bun hair. The mutton chops on his face gave him a comic look of a rowdy which he was except for the word comic. It was when he was examining his polo coat that Marcelo Medel came to him.
“Sir you should once go to that bungalow,” pleaded Medel.
“Bribón! Rascal!” Exclaimed Jara under his breath.
“Look gentlemen the PDI is trying its best, we will soon find the killer.” Said Jara sternly.
Jara was the chief of Policía de Investigaciones de Chile or Investigations Police of Chile, popularly known as the PDI, who were the civilian police of Chile. Founded in 1933, it was one of two Chilean police bodies, along with the military police Carabineros de Chile. The PDI was the principle law enforcement arm of the Public Ministry of Chile in criminal investigation.
“Sir it is the question of justice for my child.” Cried Medel.
“Por qué no entiendes? Why don’t you understand?” cried Jara blowing a puff of strong tobacco in the air, “whosoever the killer was, he is not merry making in that bungalow…..diablos no es. Hell he is not…. So there is no reason left to search that bungalow. Now Piérdase. Get lost.” growled Jara.
Medel’s eyes turned red with anger. He banged the desk in front of Jara as he cried, “tu, perro! You dog! You people are our servants you will serve us no matter what happens no matter what it takes…. incluso tu vida! Even your life!”
Jara glared at Medel before calling a staff.
**********
The room was all messy; there was nothing significant noting other than the portrait of a man.
Jara read as he went closer struggling to remove some cobwebs as he cursed under his breath.
Maldito Viejo. Damn old man.
“Professor Jean Isla……1961 to 1986……,” grinned Jara as he examined the portrait of the passed professor, “The perro died young!” exclaimed Jara looking at his staff who shared the grin.
Medel stood silent by the side of a Chilean painting when Jara turned towards him, “there is nothing Mr. Medal te lo dije. I told you so.” Said Medal with a hint of accomplishment.
Without a word Medel walked out of the room in the road.
“idiota.idiot.” Whispered Jara as he too left the room signaling his Staff to get the locks.
Jara joined Medel out on the street. “There was nothing I told you.....”
Bang!!!
Jara’s sentence was interrupted by the door of the bungalow that shut with a bang.
Jara turned around so did Medel.
There was a silence.
“Maurico!” called Jara to his staff who was still in.
There was no answer.
Jara looked at Medel, who looked as if they both were sharing something common.
“Misericordia! Mercy!” Cried the staff from within. “Abre la puerta! Abre la puerta! Open the door!” begged the staff.
Jara ran for the door and started pulling the door by the knob.
Medel joined in.
“This is a monstruo .monster.” cried the staff, “Jesucristo, sálvame! Jesucristo, sálvame! Jesus Christ save me!”
All of a sudden the cries ceased as if there never was a cry.
Jara and Medel, who were unable to open the door, gazed at it in fear.
A devoured human head broke through the door.
Jara stepped back, “que mierda! What the….k!” He cried in agony.
Medel held him by his shoulder.
It was a human head appearing to be scratched and torn by some beast. The left over flesh hanged from the cheek bones. An eye was still left in the socket wide open and the other was gone. Blood spurted out from every inch of the human head.
Jara making his heart strong stepped forward he reached close to the broken through head.
“Save me!” cried the head as it grabbed Jara’s hand in his mouth.
“Jesús cristo! Jesus Christ!” Cried Jara in agony as he pulled out the head from the hole in the door and smashed it against a wall.
The head fell on the floor panting.
Medel crushed the panting head with a nearby flower pot.
Blood gushed from Jara’s hand he tied a handkerchief around his palm and kicked open the door.
He looked around with his service pistol in hand. Medel followed.
“What is that…,” pointed Medel on the floor.
Jara looked down.
There laid the bloodied torso of the staff. A few meters away laid his hands all bathed in blood followed by his legs.
“There are blood marks we can follow them to know how the killer escaped,” pointed Jara to Medel.
Why am I telling this to the perro thought Jara as he followed the blood marks. Medel followed in fear.
The blood marks brought them to the inner room.
The blood marks disappeared.
“Maltido! Damn!” cursed Jara.
Medel watched around wordlessly when it caught his eyes.
He put his hand on Jara’s shoulder. Jara turned to see Medel pointing at something.
He looked in the direction. His heart sank.
There was fresh blood on the mouth of Professor Jean isla’s portrait.
THE END.
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