Story thread


New Member
Mar 22, 2009
Story: The son of Darkness

I wrote the story today and posting it here.

All the characters are fictitious and if any respected person find any similarity that is simply unintentional , and coincidental, I apologise before hand for all this.

The Son of Darkness

The big old mansion was standing like a giant rock in the dark. May who first encounter him will make a mistake seeing a solid 'Dark'. But after his eyes get used in Darkness he can differ it from darkness, the broken gate and the white marble statue and the man made fountain that one day gushed water but no more now, with impression of the broken big windows hanging from the upper stories, the broken doors and the wild in obedient jungle caresses him like his mother.This not only generates melancholy to the heart of the passerby but mixed with fear,and I in that world of darkness roaming now like a 'Solitary Bird ' moving freely from stairs to stairs and door to door, no fear, that word has been erased from my mind many days ago as my memory goes far, people tend to avoid this place after night but I am little different from all.

Today the 25th May, the day is different of any other days, sky is gloomy and cloudy it's raining all day long with wind blowing and sometimes rain is picking up and some times it is getting slower,with evening ventures into , and this area in the village of Purulia like many other villages in the parts of our country where electricity can not find its place ,and the road is not developed and harsh terrains , rain makes it difficult get in the village by foot, the trucks and the car moves through the glittering National Highway which is nearby is the glimpse of modern civilisation only. Only an old way which takes a turn near the Highway makes an entry to the village but is half built and work abandoned long ago. The area where the road lost its way and stopped lies the mansion, where am I now, outside and the first entry of the village. In the ocean of dark , I saw a ray of light coming from some where from the mansion, with being curious I moved on there with ease in darkness, as human beings are rare here, and I like others like company of them.

It was from first room of the ground floor of the mansion, beside the room passes by the long old corridor. The old door was open and a big candle was spreading light from floor. I was standing in front of the room, and more amusing that the light never trembles often in this high wind, though air passing through the room however they made the windows closed. Now , I look into the occupants of the room. There are two gentlemen and two ladies. All are young whilst the men were all in their thirties (I presume) and the ladies are in 20s. With most attractive and beautiful lady supposedly youngest ever them all, are now trying to open a Rucksack which is tied by a nylon rope. My sudden appearance in the room made them little surprised.

- May I come in ? I asked politely.

- Oh, yes please do.

The girl trying to open the knot was in her knees now stopped opening the backpack and looking towards me.She was of very fair complexion with scorching beauty mixed with softness,her hair touching her soldier, dressed with blue jeans and white shirt with sleeves fold and a pair of trekking shoes. She welcomes me.I realised she was amused a little bit seeing me.

The other gentle men in their casual ware looked towards me with little curiosity , they look quite gentle in their face but somebody looks through their eyes they are experienced lot, with only other lady having a book in her hand looks me with indifferent eyes.She was in dark complexion and a average face , may be in her late 20s. She was wearing Saree and a jacket on. The men were all in their pull overs.One thing, I forgot to mention this area always keeps cold in the evening and naturally lot cooler in this evening. All of them seating in the floor on newspapers as the cover from cold floor.

Older one with his spectacles on and mustache said:

- Please seat down, and relax .

I sat down with my leg stretched.


The older lady asked:

- Where are you from, you are quite drenched already ! Needs heat, sorry we have no extra clothes.We are stranded .

-I can see that. Thanks for your generosity! I am from nearby.

-Oh! I see , you are dressed quite well but little old fashioned.

- Where are you guys coming from?

- Kolkata, we are returning there.Other man in his early thirties answered, both of the men are well built and this one with his face shaved and looked younger he has no specs on.

- We were for trekking here, Ayodhya Pahar.We all have rock climbing certificates, the youngest of them, the girl who was opening the rucksack quipped.

- Hmm.., understood, where are those equipments?

- Left in the Tata Sumo ,along other three rucksack and sleeping bags.And that jerk driver went his village home with the Sumo, saying that this mansion is haunted. He will come only tomorrow early in morning.Thankfully we have left with food and water.

- Sweta, are you finished yet? Why taking time, if you can not please let me do it. The other lady interrupted.

-Bishakha , why are you scolding your sister? She is only 22 now.The gentleman with spectacle said softly.

-Look Jamaibabu(Sister's husband), Didi is scolding me.

Sweta was really trying hard, but the knot was tight enough not opening.

-Why you are not using a knife ? I quipped .

-It is in the car. This candle belongs to the Driver and he gifted us for tonight. Sweta answered while trying.

Suddenly she lost her balance and fell down on her back in the floor, lying down there and giggled,

- Look, Didi, a piece of rope made me knocked down.

- Idiot, her sister answered.

Sensing some trouble may erupt I concentrated my mind to the rope, with fixing my eyes to it, I can do it, it needs little concentration...

Sweta was getting up, and Bishakha preparing to come for giving a try, the rope suddenly sprung open of its own and fell on the legs of Sweta.

They were surprised but not frightened.

- Did you see that guys! Sweta said with surprise evident in her voice.

- Isn't it uncanny.., the rope opened up on its own and the candle light is not trembling though here is wind. What to say Mr.?

- Anindya , you all can call me 'Ani' by short.

- Ok Ani.

- I think every thing is now good for you all, if you take the mansion haunted , it really likes you guys , that's why it is co operating with you.

- I don't have time to hear this crap. Bishakha said.

I chose not to answer her.

- Sweta please bring out food, and make them hot in the candle light.

Bishakha Ordered, and staring to me she said:

- Ani, you will have to dine with us. You are our guest.

- Thanks but I have no intention to eat. I don't need to eat, I mean I'm full all ready.

Sweta looks her watch, it was 8 PM now.

- Why Ani Da, Don't mind if I call you Dada (Big Brother,suffixed as 'Da' after name of a person). Actually I have no Dada.

- No problem, you can, nobody ever called me as 'Dada' for many days.

- Ani, you look younger, are you married ? Bishakha asked.

- No, did not had time .

- He He , Sweta gigled again while bringing out the canned food.

- Hey here are torchlight and big knife also ! She exclaimed in joy.

- Have you got the tin cutter ? Bishakha asked.

- Wmm.., let me see........No!

- Pathetic.

- Well press gently on the top of the cans by the knife you got , they will open.

I said softly.

- How are you so sure? Sweta pass over the cans and knife to me.Her Jamaibabu said.

- No, let me try what Ani Da have said.

She bent in her knees and stroked lightly on the top of the first can with knife , with a cracking sound the first one opened,she took on the others one by one and all co operated with her.

She looked to me with joyful face.

- That's great Ani Da.

Bishakha and other two are now surprised a lot. Sweta was relaxed.

- Let's get all warm, Ani Da you should have some.

- No Sis, thanks.

They made them warm , and happy for having meal after wasting a lot time in that restless night. Sweta came to me with two hot cans and said,

- Ani Da take these.

- What are these ?

- Canned meat and canned Soup.They smell excellent.

I was having no smell at all, neither I having feel of hunger though I have not eaten anything.

- Sorry, I can not, Don't mind.

- Why!!!

- No, nothing Sis, you can not understand.

- Ok..,what to say.

- Please don't mind , I can not eat them.

They ate joyfully,with satisfaction of quality of the food. I was feeling happy, seeing their smiling face. Sweta ate seating beside me.They washed their hand and face with water they have with them outside the room.

- What to do with cans , let me dump them out side the mansion. Sweta said.

- No. keep those here, don't ever try to venture here alone at night.I said calmly.

- Huh?

- Yes this is my advice to you for tonight, and please don't go out side the room, if not needed badly.

There were pin dropped silence as if I made a gross mistake.

Sweta broke the silence first,

-Are you ordering us ?

- No,how can I order you, this is an advice, and following that rests only on your jurisdiction.

- Sweta, Bishakha said," I think he is right, there may be anything poisonous in the compound, may be snake or insects we need not get outside in the night."

- Ok.., she was calming down very quickly.

- Well time for me now to bid you good bye.

- Why will you go alone, I will accompany you Ani Da. I have torch.

- Not needed , I am used to it. I will make round in the mansion.

- Wow, how funny , in this rough weather and in this ruins,

- Please make the door closed.

I was standing now preparing for leave.

- Wait, I'll go with you to see the mansion.

- What??? all were surprised.

I was stunned.

- No, sorry, I can not take you with me.

- Sweta don't be crazy. The younger man yelled.

- Who are you to dictate my terms? Sweta shouted back. 'You are Suman Da's brother and try to be remain so.'

- Sweta , Listen to me , her Brother-in-law try to explain.'Anil please will you keep quiet?' He said his brother, who just had yelled.

- Suman Da just tell your brother not to dictate terms on me and be on his limit.

- I am in no need to give advice to a arrogant disobedient kid. Anil's face turning red in anger.

- Sweta stop all these, Bishakha shouted.

- I'll go with him, I'm an adult you can not force me.

Everything went bad, I was not enjoying this certainly.

- Well, I'm going with him at my own risk. She suddenly tore a piece of Tissue Paper roll and write down in with a pencil quickly,taking the wall as support.

' I'm Sweta Ray, with full knowledge and in presence of all I am declaring that I am going to explore this haunted mansion, by own risk, and if anything bad happens to me or my death occurs no body will be responsible - Sweta Ray, 25.5.2009, Purulia.'

- Take this Didi. She handed it to Bishakha, who was shell shocked.

I could not speak a word.

- Well Ani Da , lets go, Sweta said in Victorious Voice.

- You are all witness to this , I said in fatigued voice.

- Ok, what can I say, Bishakha answered.'She is an adult'

- Well , Sweta , take your torch and knife with you', I was still hoping that she would still change her mind.

- Ok., Didi please keep the door closed'. She burnt down my hope.

They looked pale, Sweta closed the door from outside. She was taller than any other average Bengali girl, about 5'7" tall, however, still shorter than me, I am almost 6 feet.

Leaning on the wall in the Corridor , she spoke with torch in her hand,one arm folded -'now tell me the story'?

-What Story?

- Story related to this mansion, That Driver, what his name was.....umm...ok, Budhan, I got it, he was telling me. A sad story , the untimely death of the young hire of this mansion. He met with accident while returning..and his spirit roams here.

I was appreciating her, she is really brave.

- Hmm., and it is 25th May, I started walking ' The exact date he met with his fatal accident forty years ago.He comes back in the mansion' regularly in this very day'

- What was his name?

- Anindya Bose

- You are also 'Anindya'? Are you that Anindya Mitra, and trying to scare me 'woooooooo'?

I was not answering she can not understand what Pain Anindya suffered mentally.

- Why did you stop?

- Oh, well, everybody said he was a jewel student. He was topper in B.Tech and got offer from a Multi National Company, only hire in the business man family with a uncle as Guardian of his. Tragic part that he has a beautiful educated Fiancee, 'Amrita'.

- Beautiful than me, Ani Da, I am joking!Don't mind.

- Yes, you are more beautiful but not Amrita.

- Hmm.., you must have seen her photograph when you were little boy.

- As I said, Amrita, she was from lower caste, and his uncle was against all, Anindya went against him, and decided to marry Amrita as early as possible. Inter-caste marriage was rare in those days, and Anindya made all arrangements , did not go for family business and found a prestigious job in a reputed firm in Kolkata and arranged for a Company rented flat. Transferred all his share to uncle, against his uncle's will. But..

- But.. What?

- He could not realise 'Amrita' was nearing the end of her life, she had been diagnosed with blood cancer in an advanced stage. Amrita concealed him everything even her parents did not know!She had her blood tested once she was in Kolkata. Anindya learnt in that day when he arranged for marriage registry, he got the medical report of her by accident. He was dumb struck, a bolt from blue, struck him, Amrita was his inspiration, he could not lose her.He was returning at that very night on 25th May with his motorbike speeding on, and unmindful , his mind mourning with pain of loss he was going to suffer..

- Then?

- He could not see the headlights of the truck and sound of horn, when he noticed it was too late.., he tried pass over , but find a young boy in front of his motor bike, to save him, went other way, but he did not realise there was a deep pit , the motor bike plunged, he threw himself from the motor bike only to find his head struck fatally in stone, young man died instantly even not realising that he is dying.He was only 25 years then.

- What happened to Amrita ?

- She died exactly a week later.

- What happened to uncle? Her voice trembling, voice was chocked , she is in her tears I could understand.

- Well , he was dumb struck, could not talk for few days, only tear used to come out from his eyes. Can you see that room? That was Anindya's ...' I pointed a closed door room in the corridor, 'Anindya spent his last days of his in that room. Uncle used to visit the place and cry like child before Anindya's photograph.He died just 6 months ago in Kolkata. He was in his 90s. However, his son used to visit here, but decided to destroy this mansion, it will be for a noble cause, there will be a Hospital here.I am really proud of him'.

I continued....

-Did you see the half done road?

- Yes

- Anindya started the project self funding from their estate to make the village well communicated, that stopped all after his death, but now work will be started again", I was joyful.

- That's great.She again spoke- Ani Da can you show me the room ?

- What Room?

- Anindya Bose's room?

- No, you should not go there. Let's return. This is my advice again.

- I'm adult please don't dictate me. I told this earlier.

- Oh! Well what do you do?

- A Chartered Accountant by profession, time will be wasted, so , please come with me I'll open the room.

I followed her reluctantly.

she reached the room, lighting the torch, there was no lock in the room , but door was old but well maintained and clean perhaps the hire of the Bose family visits regularly here.

She opened the room, the door opened with ease. I was just standing behind her. she pointed the torch every where, the room furnished with chair Table but are cleaned regularly as some body visits the room frequently.

- The care taker lives nearby home, he cleans only the room ,I explained her.

- Hmm..,well .... suddenly she stopped, her torch enlightens a Photograph hung from the wall, she is now frightened really.She is grasping and trembling.

- H-Help , Please some body help me! She screamed as loud as she can, that echoed every where in mansion.

She collapsed her eyes closed and fell down on her back on the floor.I leaned to her, I became assured , she only lost her consciousness, she is alive breathing..,I said softly..

-Sister, you will forget everything what happened tonight , I am doing this for your good, you will not recall anything about me or this mansion.

She with her stunning look lying on her back unconscious there, legs folded,torch lighting resting in a angle and points to a large photograph hanging from the wall. A black and white photograph. It was of me.

Under the photograph there is written 'Anindya Bose'.

Two dates were written under the Photograph ,with an exact gap of 25 years between them. Last date was of reading 25th May , 40 years ago.

I do not frighten anybody, this is against my nature,Sweta came her own, I love this world, this human beings, all, as I , Anindya Bose used to love them 40 years ago. I am hearing the foot steps, jostling, running to wards this room, I can hear Bishakha's voice, coming nearer, calling Sweta's name, now they will be frightened and Sweta will regain her consciousness , will not recall me or the mansion. I can not bear frightening scream.

I will have to descend to darkness, where I belong to, I am the son of Darkness, son of the other world, whom the human could not see or feel.

Good Bye Sister..........Good Bye all...........


Regular Member
Apr 19, 2009
I gave you a THANKS for this Pintu for the effort you put into it. A lot of work.
Love to correct your English for you young friend, but great story.


New Member
Mar 22, 2009
My Dear Sailor, I'm very glad that you really did like the story, it was written in haste and very quick , I knew there are grammatical mistakes that I could not take care off and I know this is no excuse for me to cover my weakness , I should have been more careful about that I'll edit the story tonight. Thanks for your encouragement and support , I owe it to you, Riteshji, johnee, Rage all others.


PS: Please come up with a horror story , I'm looking for it.


Regular Member
Apr 19, 2009
Think I just put one up called "Gays in the US services" Pintu.


New Member
Mar 22, 2009
I was thinking of to start a Story thread in this forum, and with permission from Riteshji, I am starting this thread.

Every respected member is requested to contribute here. However, to make this thread unique I think some guidelines can be maintained, they are:


1. Please Come up with a story , which is unique.

2. Everybody can understand the story.

3. Please if anybody post translation of any story of any author in any regional language please come up with details of the author, and story and also provide link.

4. Please ,your own story may be the plot weak , are most welcome in this thread , please refrain from copy pasting a story and giving own name as writer, as this will violate the sanctity of the thread.

5. If you find a good story in net , you can post it here, provided , please come up with the link and the original author.

6. Any type of story, romantic, adventurous, on historical background, current situation, horror are welcome.

7. Please do not post erotic, pornographic story and the stories that promote religious hatred, racism.

8. Please do not post any story that defame our motherland and is offensive to any race , please refrain from politically motivated story.

9. Please try to be clean in the use of language and do not use slang or abusive language in the story.

10. Please refrain from posting your story when a writer is continuing the story, that will simply hamper the attention of the reader and derail the sequence.

I am hoping for your kind co operation :)



New Member
Mar 22, 2009
To start this thread, I'm writing a story here:

The all character/characters of the story is fictitious, and if any respected member find similarity with any character or characters , please kindly treat this as purely co incidental and I am apologising beforehand.

A Haunting Experience​

It was long ago, nearly 14 years ..., but my memory which is sharp and does not betray me can track the day , that was a Saturday, and 14th May, and most probably it was evening ..Yes, I can remember it was evening, being in the summer season , the day was much cooler than the normal one than expected, in south Bengal. I can remember the room also, it was not our house, this was my friend's house, and we the friends , yes , four of us was meeting there as usual. We Bengalis call it adda, and we four were only in our teens. I was youngest 14, and there were two girls in our group of four, Manjistha who was 18, yes she was 18 , she was oldest and Kajri was 16 and while Atanu was 17. Atanu and me, Bimal were both cousins of Manjistha while Kajri was Manjistha Di's class mate.

Manjistha who was just enrolled in college, in times behave like the guardian of us, and was very moody , and jolly but when some body did ever mention her father infront of her , she used to become unnatural quite. She had one shortfall, she had no father, while all of us knew and enjoy the companion of father, she could not. She lost her father, when she was only eight. Her mother who is our 'Masi' (Aunt) brought her up, Aunt is a head mistress in a reputed Govt. School in Kolkata,while Uncle was a Military surgeon, all was going smoothly for their little family, but the misfortune strike, it was chilly and stormy night , an Air Force Transport Plane which took of some where in Eastern sector in Assam, with emergency Medical supply , could not make up to the destination and lost in the mid air. Aunt was a bold minded lady and she was with her hope , tried utmost for three days to find uncle's trace, but all hope dashed when the wreckage found in hill top with all the dead bodies found. My uncle was among the dead, mother tells that the Uncle's body charred beyond recognition. However, the body cremated with Full Military Honour and aunt decided to send little Manjistha to boarding school.

--To be continued in the second post-----------------


New Member
Mar 22, 2009
This is a beautiful story an excellent find ,

Warm Regards


New Member
Mar 22, 2009
---------------- ------Continuing----------------------

That was exactly 10 years after the incident we were meeting in Manjistha's ancestral home in South Kolkata. As I have said earlier, the day was lot cooler than the summer ones in South Bengal, it was nearly evening , we all assembled there in her house for an occasion , the dark was descending , cool breezes blowing through the large windows. While , I was looking outside to people the window to people and traffic moving from the crowdy street , Manjistha , Atanu and Kajri was playing cards, Atanu was calling me to join them as 3 can not make a partnership game. I was reluctant though. The clock stroke 7, it suddenly became dark, as there was power cut, We all who are used to the electricity, when it goes off, all we feel helpless for a moment, it is the habit for us the urban humans. And we all felt that helplessness, Manjistha suddenly stood up in the dark as I figured out of her voice:

- You all sit here, I am going to have a candle, stay here until I return. Don't jostle in Dark.

We all were there sitting ,and only listening to our breathing, suddenly Kajri cried out 'Help, help, some body, breathed over my neck"

I was frightened, but before could help her, I heard Atanu's laughter,

-Huh, Huh , I frightened hurts...Didi please leave my right ear. He could not complete his word, I saw with Torchlight on in one hand , Manjistha Di was holding one of his ear.

-How dare you? I have already warned you doing that.., Kajri , I am sorry for this Monkey. She left the ear of Atanu.

-Didi have you bought the candles ? I asked

-Yes, she sat in the couch , where we all were sitting , surrounding the table.

- Here, she took out them ,the lighter and the big candle from the pocket of her jeans.

- Bimal , light it. She said. Atanu was caressing his right ear, till then.

I light the Candle.

- Breeze was blowing , Didi, may the candle would put off.

She was bit worried, -'OK , Atanu close that front window please.'

Atanu always abide by her sister. He closed the window.

----------Continued to the next post--------


New Member
Mar 22, 2009
------------------------------Continued from the previous post---------------

We all now sitting closer, the darkness has psyche effect on children and makes them feel mere helpless as baby to darkness, and we all were feeling this, except Manjistha, may be she was adult then. Suddenly Atanu, threw a card and said irritatingly , "we can not play bridge like this, a new thing should be done"

-Yes, I agreed, 'Didi tell a Ghost story'

- No , she said calmly, I will not.

-Better , play something new, Manjistha, why not planchet? Kajri exclaimed.

- What ??? Didi was taken aback, 'You are saying what??' I will not allow this.

- Why not Manjistha, what is the wrong in it, we will call a spirit, She giggled

- Are you a freak ? Mom has asked me not to indulge you on that.

- No, Didi, why not , Atanu joined Kajri .

Manjistha Di was looking helplessly to me , as I am her only rescuer, but all her hope was watered down.

- No, Didi what's wrong with it. Now three of us, nearly mobbed her.

- Didi , do that

-Manjistha please do that

- Didi Please...Didi please

- Ok!!!! She was totally angry, "you do whatever you like, but I am not responsible, you hear that!!!! Shall I repeat , I am not responsible!!!!"

She broke up, we all are victorious,

-Ok, Kajri said, get a table.

- Table is here, who will be Medium ? Atanu asked

- Me..., Kajri said

Didi was not saying any word, she was irritated and resting her beautiful face over her two hands and sitting eyes closed.

-Atanu, get a Khata(Exercise Book) and a pencil. Atanu was quite enthusiastic , He got a khata from the old Almira stood beside the room.

- Ok , I have a pencil always with me.

We all are ready sitting beside the table.

- Do Not count me with you ! Didi said loudly.

Why? Manjistha... Kajri was saying surprisingly , Who will say that this lady was shouting sometimes ago.

-Cause, I don't like to

- But everybody in the room will have to join to make planchet successful


New Member
Mar 22, 2009
There is something fearful happens in the planchet, the spirit comes, it is very easy to call, the Spirits , but harder to send them back, all that I had read in the story books, I would admit that , I was having an uneasy feeling but till I was a lad then, not mature enough to understand what is happening or what was going to happen.

Every thing was arranged, I asked Manjistha Di, 'Where is aunt ?'

- In the kitchen, she was angry, her voice made it clear.

- What is she doing ?

- Cooking for us.Any thing else you want to know?

I thought it is better to keep quiet.

Kajri asked her "So, are you joining us or not, please clear to us or else please leave the room, the spirit we are going to call, may harm you."

- I do not believe this nonsense. I am staying here, this is my room.

Suddenly she asked in a sarcastic voice " By the way whom you are all going to call ?"

We were not prepared for that , as we till then could not make up our mind whom we are going to call. Even personally I did not even think about that, only I joined the party being over enthusiastic. I did not know about others.

-Err, Didi, I mean..actually ..I ...Do not know...I mean , Atanu was suddenly searching for answer.

- Fine, you are going to call a Spirit, and you don't even know the name !!

- Why not your father , Manjistha ? Kajri replied.

- What ? She was stunned it was clear, but her facial expression did not show that.

- But you can not do that? I was suddenly up for Manjitha's defence.

- Why not Bimal, please think it was the last December , uncle's 10 th Death anniversary. Who can say , he is still beside us , but we are not feeling him.Kajri was quick in her answer, her logic was sounding very cruel, as if playing with Manjistha's emotion.

I was expecting an out burst from Manjistha Di, but I did not believe what I did hear.

- What I have to do ? She asked calmly.

- Are you joining us ? Kajori suddenly became cheerful .

-What else I am going to do ? I am not going to sit idle , especially you are involving my dead father in this act of nonsense. Please do not show me any logic, just tell what I have to do .

- Ok, please come closer, have your eyes closed, and any of us, shall become the 'Medium' .

- What is it? She asked

- Well a link between the spirit and human, Spirit can not work as his or her own, He or she needs a Human Body to rely on to give the answer,and Medium must have pure soul, you know there in the History, there are different types of ghosts and mediums......STOP YOUR LECTURE

She was rudely interrupted by Manjistha.

- Who is going to be medium , please give a simple answer ?

- Well, I am best suited for it," Kajori was confident. Well I daresay that I was frightened hearing all this. "I had been medium in many occasions , you all have no experience of being 'Medium'.Medium should be strong mentally." she explained.

- Ok , lets do that, Atanu was in a hurry. Else aunt will come.

- Somebody close the Door, make it bolted. and close the windows please. Kajori took charge all of this. Atanu with his all enthusiasm carried out the order.

- Now give me the pencil and exercise book , I handed them over to her. Manjistha was looking indifferent.

- Now all we close our eyes, I am holding the pencil in this page of the answer book, look it is bank, you can ask the question, spirit would take over my hand and pencil. They will run automatically. You will see that.

----------------------------------To be continued-------------------------------------------


New Member
Mar 22, 2009
----------------------------------Continued from the previous post----------------------

We all sat closely,and closed all our eyes, I had no experience of 'Planchet' before. I was little nervous and at the same time feeling that it might be a trick by Kajri.

-Ok , please concentrate about Uncle. Close your eyes.Don't open until I say any word to spirit.

We all closed our eyes, and concentrating of uncle, I have very feeble memory of his, He was very tall and darker complexion, that all I had remembered, I dare not to open my eyes. Suddenly felt a cold wind passed over my neck as if somebody breathed over. I can feel some thing or some body (Is it a human) standing just behind me, watching all these.

-Who are you? Where did you come from...I opened my eyes hearing Kajri's voice, saw every body else was also opened their eyes. Didi was looking in distrust. Kajri's voice was calm and something like it is coming from long distance.

- Please show us, who are you, please answer us. We all were looking to the pencil, it started moving on its own !!! Very slowly, first a line drawn, and a letter resembled as D...then goes...O....C ... pencil stopped...again started...M....A....J....O....R.. S..U..B..O....D...H.. stopped there.

I was looking Manjistha Di's face , there is surprise in her face, she is excited, I could notice even tear in her eyes. 'Dad is that you !!!, are you here ? She whispered.

A lightning struck my mind, yes his name was Subodh De, yes when he used to write his official letter , that was printed on the the pad.

-How are you feeling ? Uncle, will you tell us ? Please you can tell us any thing ......

- M.....A...N....I the pencil stopped, again started .......M......A.....N.....I....., Mani, it was Didi's nickname, only uncle called her by that name.

I was looking towards her, She was sobbing , "Dad , I missed you , I miss you very much, you know we all miss you....How are you ? Dad !!!!!"

- D...E....A.....R...pencil stopped again.

- Uncle how are you ? Uncle, we all miss you. I was desperate to have a answer from him.

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New Member
Mar 22, 2009
-------------------Continued from the previous post-------------------------

- Pencil started again P........A.......I.......N..., then again .........D......A......R.......K....., Dad you are in dark, suffering from pain, is that Dad? She asked again , sobbing.

Pencil stopped motion less, totally.

I saw Kajri' face, she is very much confident now, She asked 'How do you feel uncle ?' 'Uncle'?

--L......E......T......, Pencil started again, ...'Yes Uncle ?' Atanu asked , ......M....E......G.....O...

----L........E.......T........M......E.........G.......O, the letters were being placed in distance, the words were repeated and repeated.

Ok, Uncle ? Kajri says , you can go now.

- Uncle can't we see you ? Atanu asked suddenly, I saw a naughty smile in his face. Uncle please answer us, 'Can't we see you'? He said me in whispering low voice , 'I got Kajri's trick'.

And that time suddenly, the pencil sprang up from Kajri's hand, Kajri's face turned bloodless,'What have you done , You fool'. She screamed at Atanu. I was in frightened eyes saw the unbelievable thing, Pencil was not in Kajri's hand , it was writing in its own, and seems that some invisible hand was moving it on its own,

First there was scramble on the blank page, then it was taking shape of a face, It was enough for me, what uncle try to show, I thought, his burnt face, that became flesh less in many parts, I shouted "No uncle we are not going to see you' Please stop!" Pencil paused a bit, then started again , in that page, making the face incomplete, .....O....T....H.....E.....R.....S. A..R.... E....H....E...R....E.

Kajri's face gone totally bloodless, all she could utter, "we all are doomed, we are going to die, there are other spirits here". And then.........with making our blood frozen, the pencil wrote.........D......I.......E............D......I......E......

Kajri screamed and started crying hysterically, Atanu got hold of me, I got hold of him and both were panting. And then suddenly all the things in the room started to fell apart, the windows which were closed , opened the glass pen shattered , we heard the cracking sound, and heard at least dozen hands shaking the door, floor were trembling, as there were earthquakes, Somebody beating the door vigorously, we all were losing psychological balance, and then, the bolted door, began to open with cracking sound, and that time,the candle gone off, we all were in darkness, but the room was feeling with a strange light , strange colour of the light it was, neither it was glowing, neither it was dark, and in that light we saw, Manjistha, stood along and caught hold of the couch, which was still in place despite terrible shaking...

-Stop it, She shouted-I say Stop it, You are not my father, I say You are not my father. Do you hear ? Who ever you are, get hell out of here, Go away, I say, Go away.I don't want to see you!!!You understand , I don't...she could not finish her word, started crying hysterically....Dad please go ....Don't come back.........

Every thing stopped, it was pin dropped silence. I felt some body gave a deep sigh, then we all heard........a very soft...known but heard many days ago....a familiar tone.....that was coming from a distance.....' dear....'. I could not recall whose voice was it, but seemed familiar, at least to her as Manjistha Di again started crying hysterically, only could say a word "Dad".

I felt something was leaving the room.

Then all stopped, every thing became normal. ...The light disappeared it appeared from no where ...All were dark again........Time passed...Don't know how much...We all regained our normalcy slowly,after a long time. and then suddenly somebody was knocking the door, we all again scared. Manjistha asked in trembling voice....

-W-Who i-is it ?

- Me, your mother, why were all you yelling ? Open the door.

We all became relived. Atanu , ran towards the door, and said , hey it is bolted again , He could not believe it, even all we could not.

-Hey, how long I am going to stay here, open it.

we all became cheerful, as such we all saved from death. Atanu opened the door, Aunt entered and switched on, immediately light flooded the room.

-Well, power came back half an hours ago, what all you are doing in this heat by closing the room.It is blast furnace.

- What is the exercise book doing here? We were anticipating the rebuke, but in front our dumb struck face , She opened the book..All pages were blank....where did the letters go ? I ran towards window, the glass panes are intact. Everything , each and every furniture all are in their place, all are intact.

-Hey, You two, why were you crying ? Did you see ghost ? aunt asked both the ladies.

I was spell bound, as something kept me un nerve , Were we on the hallucination ?

14 Years gone, I never found any reason , any logic behind that incident, I took science as my course of Higher Study, and working as a Scientist, in a reputed Govt. organisation, and settled in Mumbai, I stopped believing in spirit, Manjistha, became a reporter and are in a renowned media group and settled in The USA with Aunt, Kajri got married with a Business tycoon, and is best settled, Atanu works in a NGO, and now lives in Ghana,but like me all of them could not erase that memory. I lost my mother when I was 16. I once asked my father who was a Psychiatrist 'What is hallucination' He answered me, and after knowing the incident he kept quite for some time, and then patting my head , He said 'Son you know there is many thing , science can not give answer, we are all helpless to nature.'

'Day's gone, I am dead against Spirit and Ghost believers, I give speech in many forums, many science clubs, and protest against the bad prejudices and superstitions that prevailed our society, urge people to drive superstitions away, and denounce the planchets but dared not to go in any planchet , to open the dirty tricks played there to public , as I am Frightened, I can not erase the memory, it haunts me.It haunts me really. I Can not sleep in the night. Some times wake up from the sleep, grasping for breath.


New Member
Mar 22, 2009
Found this story for Children in here:

Short Stories: The Dragon Rock by Ellena Ashley

Ellena Ashley

The Dragon Rock

The Dragon Rock

This story begins with Once Upon A Time, because the best stories do, of course.

So, Once Upon A Time, and imagine if you can, a steep sided valley cluttered with giant, spiky green pine trees and thick, green grass that reaches to the top of your socks so that when you run, you have to bring your knees up high, like running through water. Wildflowers spread their sweet heady perfume along the gentle breezes and bees hum musically to themselves as they cheerily collect flower pollen.

People are very happy here and they work hard, keeping their houses spick and span and their children's faces clean.

This particular summer had been very hot and dry, making the lean farm dogs sleepy and still. Farmers whistled lazily to themselves and would stand and stare into the distance, trying to remember what it was that they were supposed to be doing. By two o'clock in the afternoon, the town would be in a haze of slumber, with grandmas nodding off over their knitting and farmers snoozing in the haystacks. It was very, very hot.

No matter how hot the day, however, the children would always play in the gentle, rolling meadows. With wide brimmed hats and skin slippery with sun block, they chittered and chattered like sparrows, as they frolicked in their favourite spot.

Now, their favourite spot is very important to this story because in this particular spot is a large, long, scaly rock that looks amazingly similar to a sleeping dragon.
The children knew it was a dragon.
The grown ups knew it was a dragon.
The dogs and cats and birds knew it was a dragon.
But nobody was scared because it never, ever moved.

The boys and girls would clamber all over it, poking sticks at it and hanging wet gumboots on its ears but it didn't mind in the least. The men folk would sometimes chop firewood on its zigzagged tail because it was just the right height and the Ladies Weaving Group often spun sheep fleece on its spikes.

Often on a cool night, when the stars were twinkling brightly in a velvet sky and the children peacefully asleep, the grown ups would settle for the evening with a mug of steaming cocoa in a soft cushioned armchair. Then the stories about How The Dragon Got There began. Nobody knew for sure, there were many different versions depending on which family told the tale, but one thing that everybody agreed on, was this:

-----------------------------To be continued-----------------------------


New Member
Mar 22, 2009
----------------------------------------Continued from previous post-------------------

< 2 >
In Times of Trouble
The Dragon will Wake
And Free the Village
By making a Lake

This little poem was etched into everybody's minds and sometimes appeared on tea towels and grandma's embroidery.

The days went by slowly, quietly and most importantly, without any rain. There had been no rain in the valley for as long as the children could remember. The wells were starting to bring up muddy brown water and clothes had to be washed in yesterday's dishwater. The lawns had faded to a crisp biscuit colour and the flowers drooped their beautiful heads. Even the trees seemed to hang their branches like weary arms. The valley turned browner and drier and thirstier, every hot, baking day.

The townsfolk grew worried and would murmur to each other when passing with much shaking of heads and tut tuts. They would look upwards searching for rain clouds in the blue, clear sky, but none ever came.

"The tale of the Dragon cannot be true," said old Mrs Greywhistle, the shopkeeper.
"It hasn't moved an inch, I swear," replied her customer, tapping an angry foot.

It was now too hot for the children to play out in the direct sun and they would gather under the shade of the trees, digging holes in the dust and snapping brittle twigs.
"The Dragon will help us soon," said one child.
"He must do Something," agreed another.
"I'm sure he will."
They all nodded in agreement.

A week went by with no change, the people struggling along as best they could. Some were getting cross at the Dragon and would cast angry, sideways looks at it when passing. The villagers were becoming skinny eyed and sullen.

Meanwhile, the children had a plan.
Quickly and quietly, they moved invisibly around town, picking and plucking at the fading flowers. With outstretched arms and bouquets up to their chins, they rustled over to where the giant rock lay, as still as ever.

The boys and girls placed bunches of flowers around the Dragon in a big circle. They scattered petals around its head and over its nose, then danced around and around it, skipping and chanting the rhyme that they all knew so well.

In Times of Trouble
The Dragon Will Wake
And Save the Village
By making a Lake.

The searing heat made them dizzy and fuzzy and finally they all fell in a sprawling heap at the bottom of the mound. They looked up at the rock.


New Member
Mar 22, 2009
----------------------------Continuing from Previous Post---------------------

< 3 >
Nothing happened.

A dry wind lazily picked up some flower heads and swirled them around. The air was thick with pollen and perfume. A stony grey nostril twitched.
"I saw something," cried the youngest boy.
They stared intently.
An ear swiveled like a periscope.
The ground began to rumble.
"Look out! Run!Run!"

The children scampered in all directions, shrieking and squealing, arms pumping with excitement.
The rumbling grew and grew.
The Dragon raised its sleepy head. It got onto its front feet and sat like a dog. It stood up and stretched, arching its long scaly back like a sleek tabby cat. It blinked and looked around with big kind, long lashed eyes.
And then its nostrils twitched and quivered again.
The older folk were alerted by the screams and shrieks. The ladies held up their long skirts to run and the men rolled their sleeves up and soon the whole town stood together in a tight huddle at the foot of the hill, staring up at the large beast with mouths held open.
The noise erupted from the Dragon.
The families gripped each other tighter and shut their eyes.
The sneeze blasted from the Dragon like a rocket, throwing it back fifty paces, causing a whirlwind of dust and dirt.

The second blast split open the dry earth, sending explosions of soil and tree roots high into the sky like missiles, and something else too ...

The people heard the sound but couldn't recognize it at first for it had been such a long time since their ears had heard such tinkling melody. As their eyes widened in wonder, their smiles turned into grins and then yahoos and hoorahs.

Water, cold, clear spring water, oozed, then trickled, then roared out of the hole, down the hillside and along the valley floor.

The torrent knocked over a farmer's haystack, but he didn't care.
The river carried away the schoolteacher's bike shed but she cared not a jot. It even demolished the Ladies Bowling Club changing rooms but they howled with laughter and slapped their thighs. When the flood sent pools of water out towards the golf course, filling up sixteen of the nineteen holes, the men just hooted and whistled and threw their caps up in the air.


New Member
Mar 22, 2009
-------------------------------Continued from previous post---------------

< 4 >
What used to be a dirty, brown dust bowl, now gleamed and glistened in the sunlight, sending playful waves and ripples across the lake and inviting all to share.

"HMMMMM," sighed the Dragon sleepily, and showing his perfect movie star teeth. "Seeing as I'm awake ..."
And he lumbered forward with surprising grace and style and disappeared into the cool dark water with a small wave of a claw and flick of his tail.

They never saw him again.

After the families had restored and rebuilt the village, and set up sailing clubs for the children, and scuba diving for the grandparents, they erected a bandstand and monument in the spot where the Dragon used to lay. Every year to mark the occasion, they would bring garlands of flowers and herbs and arrange them in a big circle. The children would have the day off school, for it was known as 'Water Dragon Day' and wearing the dragon masks that they had been working on all week, would skip and clap and sing.

The Dragon helped Us
As We said He would Do
Hooray for The Dragon
Achoo, Achoo, ACHOOOO!

And that is the end of the story.


New Member
Mar 22, 2009
Short Stories: The Moonlit Road by Ambrose Bierce

Ambrose Bierce

The Moonlit Road

1. Statement of Joel Hetman, Jr.
I am the most unfortunate of men. Rich, respected, fairly well educated and of sound health -- with many other advantages usually valued by those having them and coveted by those who have them not -- I sometimes think that I should be less unhappy if they had been denied me, for then the contrast between my outer and my inner life would not be continually demanding a painful attention. In the stress of privation and the need of effort I might sometimes forget the sombre secret ever baffling the conjecture that it compels.
I am the only child of Joel and Julia Hetman. The one was a well-to-do country gentleman, the other a beautiful and accomplished woman to whom he was passionately attached with what I now know to have been a jealous and exacting devotion. The family home was a few miles from Nashville, Tennessee, a large, irregularly built dwelling of no particular order of architecture, a little way off the road, in a park of trees and shrubbery.
At the time of which I write I was nineteen years old, a student at Yale. One day I received a telegram from my father of such urgency that in compliance with its unexplained demand I left at once for home. At the railway station in Nashville a distant relative awaited me to apprise me of the reason for my recall: my mother had been barbarously murdered -- why and by whom none could conjecture, but the circumstances were these.
My father had gone to Nashville, intending to return the next afternoon. Something prevented his accomplishing the business in hand, so he returned on the same night, arriving just before the dawn. In his testimony before the coroner he explained that having no latchkey and not caring to disturb the sleeping servants, he had, with no clearly defined intention, gone round to the rear of the house. As he turned an angle of the building, he heard a sound as of a door gently closed, and saw in the darkness, indistinctly, the figure of a man, which instantly disappeared among the trees of the lawn. A hasty pursuit and brief search of the grounds in the belief that the trespasser was some one secretly visiting a servant proving fruitless, he entered at the unlocked door and mounted the stairs to my mother's chamber. Its door was open, and stepping into black darkness he fell headlong over some heavy object on the floor. I may spare myself the details; it was my poor mother, dead of strangulation by human hands!

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New Member
Mar 22, 2009
------------------------------Continued from previous post----------------

< 2 >
Nothing had been taken from the house, the servants had heard no sound, and excepting those terrible finger-marks upon the dead woman's throat -- dear God! that I might forget them! -- no trace of the assassin was ever found.
I gave up my studies and remained with my father, who, naturally, was greatly changed. Always of a sedate, taciturn disposition, he now fell into so deep a dejection that nothing could hold his attention, yet anything -- a footfall, the sudden closing of a door -- aroused in him a fitful interest; one might have called it an apprehension. At any small surprise of the senses he would start visibly and sometimes turn pale, then relapse into a melancholy apathy deeper than before. I suppose he was what is called a 'nervous wreck.' As to me, I was younger then than now -- there is much in that. Youth is Gilead, in which is balm for every wound. Ah, that I might again dwell in that enchanted land! Unacquainted with grief, I knew not how to appraise my bereavement; I could not rightly estimate the strength of the stroke.
One night, a few months after the dreadful event, my father and I walked home from the city. The full moon was about three hours above the eastern horizon; the entire countryside had the solemn stillness of a summer night; our footfalls and the ceaseless song of the katydids were the only sound, aloof. Black shadows of bordering trees lay athwart the road, which, in the short reaches between, gleamed a ghostly white. As we approached the gate to our dwelling, whose front was in shadow, and in which no light shone, my father suddenly stopped and clutched my arm, saying, hardly above his breath:
'God! God! what is that?'
'I hear nothing,' I replied.
'But see -- see!' he said, pointing along the road, directly ahead.
I said: 'Nothing is there. Come, father, let us go in -- you are ill.'
He had released my arm and was standing rigid and motionless in the centre of the illuminated roadway, staring like one bereft of sense. His face in the moonlight showed a pallor and fixity inexpressibly distressing. I pulled gently at his sleeve, but he had forgotten my existence. Presently he began to retire backward, step by step, never for an instant removing his eyes from what he saw, or thought he saw. I turned half round to follow, but stood irresolute. I do not recall any feeling of fear, unless a sudden chill was its physical manifestation. It seemed as if an icy wind had touched my face and enfolded my body from head to foot; I could feel the stir of it in my hair.

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New Member
Mar 22, 2009
---------------------------------Continued from previous post------------------------------

< 3 >
At that moment my attention was drawn to a light that suddenly streamed from an upper window of the house: one of the servants, awakened by what mysterious premonition of evil who can say, and in obedience to an impulse that she was never able to name, had lit a lamp. When I turned to look for my father he was gone, and in all the years that have passed no whisper of his fate has come across the borderland of conjecture from the realm of the unknown.

2. Statement of Caspar Grattan
To-day I am said to live, to-morrow, here in this room, will lie a senseless shape of clay that all too long was I. If anyone lift the cloth from the face of that unpleasant thing it will be in gratification of a mere morbid curiosity. Some, doubtless, will go further and inquire, 'Who was he?' In this writing I supply the only answer that I am able to make -- Caspar Grattan. Surely, that should be enough. The name has served my small need for more than twenty years of a life of unknown length. True, I gave it to myself, but lacking another I had the right. In this world one must have a name; it prevents confusion, even when it does not establish identity. Some, though, are known by numbers, which also seem inadequate distinctions.
One day, for illustration, I was passing along a street of a city, far from here, when I met two men in uniform, one of whom, half pausing and looking curiously into my face, said to his companion, 'That man looks like 767.' Something in the number seemed familiar and horrible. Moved by an uncontrollable impulse, I sprang into a side street and ran until I fell exhausted in a country lane.
I have never forgotten that number, and always it comes to memory attended by gibbering obscenity, peals of joyless laughter, the clang of iron doors. So I say a name, even if self-bestowed, is better than a number. In the register of the potter's field I shall soon have both. What wealth!
Of him who shall find this paper I must beg a little consideration. It is not the history of my life; the knowledge to write that is denied me. This is only a record of broken and apparently unrelated memories, some of them as distinct and sequent as brilliant beads upon a thread, others remote and strange, having the character of crimson dreams with interspaces blank and black -- witch-fires glowing still and red in a great desolation.

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New Member
Mar 22, 2009
-----------------------------------------Continued from previous post-----------------------
< 4 >
Standing upon the shore of eternity, I turn for a last look landward over the course by which I came. There are twenty years of footprints fairly distinct, the impressions of bleeding feet. They lead through poverty and pain, devious and unsure, as of one staggering beneath a burden --
Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow.
Ah, the poet's prophecy of Me -- how admirable, how dreadfully admirable!
Backward beyond the beginning of this via dolorosa -- this epic of suffering with episodes of sin -- I see nothing clearly; it comes out of a cloud. I know that it spans only twenty years, yet I am an old man.
One does not remember one's birth -- one has to be told. But with me it was different; life came to me full-handed and dowered me with all my faculties and powers. Of a previous existence I know no more than others, for all have stammering intimations that may be memories and may be dreams. I know only that my first consciousness was of maturity in body and mind -- a consciousness accepted without surprise or conjecture. I merely found myself walking in a forest, half-clad, footsore, unutterably weary and hungry. Seeing a farmhouse, I approached and asked for food, which was given me by one who inquired my name. I did not know, yet knew that all had names. Greatly embarrassed, I retreated, and night coming on, lay down in the forest and slept.
The next day I entered a large town which I shall not name. Nor shall I recount further incidents of the life that is now to end -- a life of wandering, always and everywhere haunted by an overmastering sense of crime in punishment of wrong and of terror in punishment of crime. Let me see if I can reduce it to narrative.
I seem once to have lived near a great city, a prosperous planter, married to a woman whom I loved and distrusted. We had, it sometimes seems, one child, a youth of brilliant parts and promise. He is at all times a vague figure, never clearly drawn, frequently altogether out of the picture.
One luckless evening it occurred to me to test my wife's fidelity in a vulgar, commonplace way familiar to everyone who has acquaintance with the literature of fact and fiction. I went to the city, telling my wife that I should be absent until the following afternoon. But I returned before daybreak and went to the rear of the house, purposing to enter by a door with which I had secretly so tampered that it would seem to lock, yet not actually fasten. As I approached it, I heard it gently open and close, and saw a man steal away into the darkness. With murder in my heart, I sprang after him, but he had vanished without even the bad luck of identification. Sometimes now I cannot even persuade myself that it was a human being.

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