I threw up as soon as I set my eyes on the Sunday morning headlines. I read the whole report over and over again, not missing a single detail to make myself believe what was printed. I dropped down on the floor, hid my face and sobbed uncontrollably. Allen came up to me and comforted me. He had this certain charm which could comfort me in any situation.

“9 murders. In our society” I stammered. “Yes. I heard. I’m sorry about it. Stephanie was one of the victims wasn’t she?” he asked in a calm voice. I nodded while whimpering like a little hurt puppy. “Now see, I’m late for my flight. I’ve got to leave you now. I have some important business to finish off. I’ll be back next week. I’ll call up Joseph and ask him to be with you right now, I know you need someone. I love you, bye” and with that he left the house.

Joseph came over immediately and offered to stay with me till the murderer was caught. I refused politely and told him to let me be. He left after a little while. I tried not to think about what had happened, and was constantly praying that the mad serial killer should be caught and hanged. The whole week went by without any more reports of any murders in this area. But that crazy psychopath was still loose, and there was no chance of my soul being at rest until he was caught. I was cautious about each and every movement that I made. I was terrified by the thought of finding myself face to face with him someday.

The Saturday evening news made me smile a weak smile for the first time this week. They reported that the man responsible for all the murders in Park Avenue Society had been caught and had been imprisoned in the local city jail and he would then be transferred to a high security prison in Malaysia later on next week. Instantly I took out the car and drove to the city jail. I had to see him behind the bars for myself, then and only then would I be able to sleep peacefully tonight. Detective Inspector Collin Hunt guided me to Shaw’s prison. So that was his name. Shaw. Suits a murderer, I thought. I saw a man sulking in the corner. He had short cropped hair, and numerous bruises all over his arms and face. Relieved to see him, I thanked Collin and headed back home.

I sighed in relief as my breathing turned back normal again. The frown on my face settled down and changed into a comforted smile. All that I wanted to do now was to go home and have a good night’s sleep without any worries clinging to my previously frightened brain.

I parked my car in the driveway and put on my jacket as I stepped out. I felt unusually cold. It was the kind of weather which sent shivers throughout my body. Locking the car, I walked back to the main gate to lock it up. I headed towards my house quickly, desperate to escape the freezing cold wind. That is when I saw it. A set of heavy footprints in the snow right next to the steps which led up to the balcony. And I froze. I felt a sudden warm feeling of a rush of blood through my head. The front door creaked open and I saw a faint light coming from the living room. I gathered all the courage that I could, and walked in silently. I followed the dim trace of light, and it brought me face to face with death.

There he was standing in a dark corner of the room with a classic weapon, a dagger, clutched tightly in his hand. He was holding on to it with such great force that the blade had started sinking deeper and deeper into his arm, tearing open his flesh. His bloodshot eyes and booming loud maniacal laugh shook me to the core. Dressed in blood-covered rags and torn pants, with his signature royal blue shawl wrapped securely around his head, he dragged himself barefoot towards me. I held my breath as he stepped into the light, any second now I would know his identity. He took another step ahead and revealed his face to me. I gasped with fright. His face was a mess. I couldn’t recognise him but I had a strange feeling that I knew him. He came closer, snarling at me incessantly. Before I could see his face clearly, he caught me by my waist, and held me tightly with the dagger stroking my neck playfully. His touch felt oddly familiar. I struggled to break free, but all my efforts were in vain.

“I’m sorry” he said in a soft and comforting familiar voice which had a slight sense of guilt to it, and made my heart pound even faster. He slashed the blade across my neck and left me there bleeding from the gash. I was left to die there all alone. He could have simply finished me off, but he chose not to. He wanted his important business to finish itself on its own.

Ironic isn’t it? To die in the ‘living’ room.

“I would think twice before going in there. I suggest you do the same” said a voice from behind the thicket. I wondered who it could be, and so I went back there to find the person.

An old wrinkled body was lying there.

“Why?” I asked curiously.

“Because that’s where she lives. And you wouldn’t want to share your body with her now would you?” he asked with a wicked smile which knew more than it showed.

He was creepy. He invoked an uncomfortable feeling in me and I ran away from there as fast as I could. I didn’t ever want to encounter him ever again. I ignored his advice and went in to Windsor Castle anyway. There was no such thing as ghosts or in better words, spirits. That was my strong belief and it was going to remain that way.

The castle had a grand heavy door made of Oak, with 2 thick brass rings on the front. I pushed it open and stepped inside. A strange effluvium filled the atmosphere inside the castle, but I was determined to find out the secret which lies deep within, and so I ventured further inside.

The rooms were covered with cobwebs and a layer of soot. Obviously no one had cleaned this place since quite some time. All the rooms were open but one. It was sealed from the outside. No seal could stop me from going in there. I cleared off everything that stood in my way and went in. The moment I stepped in, I knew that I had made a mistake, a big mistake, a mistake that I would regret for my entire life, that is if I managed to come out alive.

“300 years” came a soft whisper just near me. It was a woman’s voice. It was a desperate voice. She wanted something badly, very badly, and she would cross any limits to acquire it.

“300 years I waited for a naïve little girl like you to come my way” she wailed in a high-pitched staccato voice. I could feel her presence growing stronger by the second. The door banged close and my heart pounded hard on my chest. Hot blood rushed through my veins as I tried to think of a way to escape. That is when I realised that there was no escaping from her. She was not going to let me casually stroll out of her castle just like that. She had her prey real close to her, she was not going to let it go, no chance.

A strong frosty gust of wind blew into the room as I felt a firm grasp around me. She threw me across the room and laughed with great delight. I collapsed every time I tried to get up. I had lost too much blood, there was no way I could get myself to stand up now. I looked up to find a pair of evil green eyes staring coldly into mine.

I got up covered with sweat. “Nightmare” I gasped. “It was just a nightmare” I reassured myself.

I rushed to the basin and splashed some cold water on my face. I had to stop watching horror films at night. I looked up at my reflection in the mirror. I looked dull. My face had had lost its usual charm and my hair was a big mess too. As I began untangling my hair, I saw a pair of green eyes flash at me from my reflection. And I began to doubt myself. “Was it really a nightmare?”

I felt a jolt of current inside me. My brain went all fuzzy and a sharp pain shot across my spine as I fell on my knees. My head gyrated wildly and I felt a certain important part of me leave me. It was my soul. I was no longer me. I was completely under her control. She could make me do anything, simply anything that she desired. She wanted revenge. She sought vengeance. And she yearned for it badly. She was going to use me like a parasite. I gasped for air, clutching my throat, I reached out for the blade which rested near me. I wasn’t going to live with her soul. I could never do that. I picked up the blade and struck it across several parts of my body, hoping to die due to heavy loss of blood. But alas, no blood came out. I had no soul, I had no blood, I was as good as dead, and yet I wasn’t dead. I was alive. Alive with a mad desire to kill, spill innocent blood and cause destruction to an extent it has never been caused before.

She launched me outside the window and landed me in my neighbour’s garden. There I saw old Mr. James watering his plants cheerfully. My mouth salivated, my hunger to kill strengthened and I pounced on him across the yard and sank my teeth deep into his throat, killing him instantly. Wiping the blood off my mouth, she laughed from inside me. Her evil thirst to inhabit a human body had been fulfilled. She left me there, as a corpse, a useless piece of flesh. And she left with a loud wail, eager to possess more and more people.

Okay. So here I am. But where exactly is ‘here’, I have no idea, and that happens to be a major concern for me in the current situation. What do I see around me? Well, what do you see in a place where you’ve never been to before? Unfamiliar faces that stare at me with big wild eyes as they pass by, large buildings that stand dominant over the small lanes that make their way in between the great structures, the air filled with a strangely tempting aroma of fried fish. The dry scorching heat hits me hard, as my cheeks flush dark red and drops of perspiration begin trickling down from my forehead. I look around desperately, hoping to spot something that could explain what was going on with me. But all my attempts are in vain as all that I can see are gray buildings surrounding me from all directions. I look up at the windows, but no one seems to be living here. I remember wishing for some exciting adventure in my life a few days ago, but this is definitely not what I expected.

Here I sit on a rickety stool, amidst the swarming, mentally preoccupied people out on the street each with their own purpose of being here. I try to get up and walk around to explore the place and figure out what exactly happened with me in the last few hours, which seem to be erased from my memory which isn’t that good I must admit. But I can’t seem to be able to stand up. Why, you ask? Well you would agree that it is a tad bit challenging to get up when you have your legs tightly tied together and your hands seem to be too numb to untie them. Okay, so I’m hopelessly lost in the crowd, but the odd part is that I am not moving, rather everyone around me is. I am the stationary object which seems to be receiving a lot of undue attention from passersby. Whoever said that every woman likes attention should be in my place right now, that person will definitely think that they should have been more specific.

A weird-looking scruffy man wrapped in blankets, with his frizzy beard growing as wild as ever looks at me and comes close immediately. He leans in even closer and stops with his face just inches from mine. After looking directly into my eyes for a few discomforting moments, he turns around swiftly and walks off snickering to himself. Okay, that definitely didn’t make my condition any better; rather I would say it freaked me out even more. Now that I am left with no choice, I decide to scream out as loud as I can and if my luck is with me today someone might come explain to me exactly where I am. I open my mouth and yell with all the strength that I can muster. And what happens? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And why? Well, because my voice seems to be lost mysteriously.

The inner child in me wants to weep and cry out loudly for someone to help me get out of this horrible place, but the façade that I have put on for the last few hours remains resolute and refuses to reveal any emotion. I hide my face in my shoulder and close my eyes for a while, hoping to be magically transported back home when I open them. I look up, and see a blurry outline of a bulky figure of a man walking towards me with small heavy steps. Slowly his face becomes clear and I gasp in horror. Is it him? No, it can’t be.