Doublet

Church looked at the time and gave out a sigh. Though he had left the hospital at nine o’ clock, still he missed the 10.30 bus. Unfortunately, for Church, it was the last bus. He now had to wait till six the next morning for the first bus to come.

Holding his cigarette in his right hand, Church Denborough began to think about all the other alternatives of how to reach Sawson Street, where in the nineteenth house, his friend Frank Wong waited for him. He scolded himself for taking charge of the last patient. Steven was there, he was also good at heart surgeries…

He sat down on one of the empty chairs of the bus-stop. As a tradition, he used to travel to every state of the United States, and stayed there for two months. In that frame of time, he used to work as a cardiologist at the best hospital over there. He never took fees after checking the patients. After two months, he would then pack up his bags, and set off to another state. This he had been doing since he was twenty-one. Though it might sound odd to any person, he easily got the allowance to check up patients, for he was so trustworthy, good, and quite famous for his surgeries, he was treated like a celebrity. Over here in Denver, luckily he got hold of his friend, Frank, who was also a cardiologist like him. It was at his residence that Church was staying.

A dog howled somewhere. Somewhere, the booming voice of a clock came, ringing eleven gongs. It was eleven o’clock in the night.

Church stood up. It seemed absolutely pointless to sit and wait for ages in the darkness of the January night. He had to return, otherwise Frank would be worried. What did Frank say? If any person had missed the last bus, he had to cross…..

Church found the place. The Metropolitan Cheskov Cemetery was the only one path through which the person could go, and reach directly to Sawson Street. Church felt a shiver run down his spine. It has been so long he had been handling dead bodies during surgeries. He now just laughed at the mention of anything related to ‘death’. In simple words – Church was not afraid of anything.

Yet crossing the cemetery at this point of night looked like a Herculean task for Church. There were no lights over there. There was the danger of loafers. He had heard back at the hospital that these people would literally steal everything from the unfortunate who passed through their area. Nevertheless, he turned on his five-cell torch, and entered the 250-year old cemetery, and started walking.

While walking, he saw that some of the graves were newly added, while others looked like in a day or two, they would just be reduced to dust. Some of the graves even dated back from the time of the Revolution. There were Irish, Chinese, Americans and also others, now buried inside a wooden coffin, who are now forgotten…,lost in the past…

A pack of wolves howled near somewhere, and the clock now gave out twelve gongs, signaling midnight. And that’s when Church heard it – the sound of a piano.

The piano was playing not just any ordinary piece. It was a broken-down version of Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata’. Church knew how melodious the piece sounded, especially when he would settle down for sleep. But now, at this moment, he felt sweat drops appearing on his forehead. He suddenly became paralyzed with the thought of a loafer. But was this that sort of person?

Upon moving closer, Church saw that the pianist was a man, dressed in a jet-black coat. The piano looked pretty old, half of the keys had turned yellow, and the strings were nearly about to snap. It was out-of-tune, making the piece sound creepy than ever. His fingers – while fluttering over the keys – were almost invisible.

Church summed up all the courage he had, and said, ‘Um, hello there. Eh, n-nice p-p-piece.’ He felt his mouth run dry all of a sudden.

The man stopped playing, turned to him, and smiled, saying, ‘Ni hao. Thank you vely much! Ha ha ha!’

Church was struck with fear at the sight of the man’s facial features. The man was a Japanese, with wrinkles all over his – rotting? – face, and his eyes had a strange reddish-brown color, and it felt to Church as if a dozen of daggers were pointed towards him. When the man opened his mouth to smile, Church saw that his teeth was black as charcoal!

Church didn’t stand there any longer. He turned around and started to run. Behind him, the man laughed out, increasing the creepiness of the area.

‘Ha ha ha! He – igho!’

It kind of echoed around the tombstones, and every tombstone seemed to be reverberating from the dreadful laugh.

Church was not paying heed to all of this. He was dashing for the exit to this ghastly place. How many times he fell, and crashed into a tomb, he didn’t know. 

Upon crashing into yet another tomb, Church fell down, and felt his leg being pulled by someone, backwards. The torch flung out of his hand. Glancing behind, panic struck him, as he saw five bloodstain-clothed children staring at him, with five pairs of eyes shooting fire!

Church got hold of a gravestone, clung to it firmly, and tried to break free from these entities. However, his strength was far inferior to them. He couldn’t faint at this moment. If only Frank was…

Was that his torch? Yes! In the catastrophe, his torch had flown out of his hand, and had fallen beside a tombstone. Just diagonally to Church, he could easily get it. If only he could stretch his hand out…just near…

He got hold of his torch, and slammed it at the hands of those menacing children, and shove them away. He heard a blood-curdling scream coming out from them.

‘Ow-w-w-w-ahhhhh!’

The torch had shattered, but that didn’t matter to him anymore. He now – at full speed – dashed towards the exit. They were still behind him. Church was beginning to feel tired, but he can’t…

A crash suddenly made Church fell head-to-head with a tombstone. For some moments, he just lay over there, motionless. Then slowly getting up, and regaining his mind, he saw:

‘Frank! Oh God! You have just come in the right time!’ Church blurted out.

‘Oh Church! When you did not come at eleven o’clock, I grew worried. So, I decided to check out the cemetery. Goodness, you are literally out of your wits!’

Church looked at himself, and smiled. The earlier night at 10.30 he was known as a renowned travelling cardiologist, and now at 1.30 in the morning, he was looking like a ‘loafer’.

‘C’mon, I’ll drive.’ Frank said.

Once in the car, Church breathed a sigh of relief, and after nearly emptying a water bottle, he narrated his horrifying experience at the cemetery to Frank. Frank smiled, saying, ‘Well, so the legends are then not totally false at all. So, even a highly scientific person also now believes in the paranormal!’ Frank laughed aloud. Church also joined in the laughter.

Reaching home – it was two o’clock in the morning – Frank said, ‘There’s something my brother Tom will show you. I have to actually go on a business. Don’t worry, I’ll return in the morning.’ Then, without letting Church say anything, he walked off into the darkness.

Church knocked the door. He was not a bit worried about his friend. He was happy that he was now away from Death. 

A man in his mid-thirties opened the door. He had a well-shaven face, and his brown eyes gave of a faint gleam. It was Tom Wong, Frank’s brother.

‘Come inside, Mr. Denborough, there’s something wrong going on over here.’

‘What happened Tom?’

‘Frank went into his room today at seven o’clock in the evening, and told me to not disturb. He would come out at nine. But he has still not come out. The door is also bolted from inside. I’m worried, Mr. Denborough. Can you please check?’

‘Wait a minute. But Frank was…’

He dashed towards Frank’s study, with Tom following from behind. The door didn’t budge at first. After a few slams, the door finally gave way – gave way to a gruesome scene which made both men cry out.

Frank Wong was lying on the floor, with three stab-marks on his stomach and chest, and red blood had stained his clothes!

***

Mr. Church Denborough had come to Denver by flight on the 10th January. Frank was murdered by his fellow colleague, Mickey Joshua, on the 11th. His motive fell under the category of money matters. On the same day, Church had encountered the bizarre activities of the cemetery. The time of Frank’s murder was between 12.30 and 1.00 in the morning. The police closed the case after sentencing Mickey to six years’ imprisonment.

However, Church still had one question left:

If Frank was murdered between twelve-thirty to one o’clock in the morning – as police records suggested…

Who was the person then, who came to save Church at 1.30 that morning?

***

M.Macabre

23.07.2020

Image courtesy: Google Images