5 Years Later...

...Prologue...

I could feel him...strolling towards me. Just a few more minutes...and then I would not know where I would be. I could feel his breath - warm and furious. Yes, now on my bed, slowly creeping towards me...I wanted to scream, but I refrained...I remember still, what had happened two weeks ago...but that didn't matter anymore...

He got closer...he got even more...

***

-1-

It was the 9th of October. It had been a month since I settled in Chicago from my rural home Alabama. I was into interior designing. I had made a name for myself already on the first three days I came here. Everyone seemed to like me. My momma and papa were proud at the success of their daughter. Everyone was working out fine. Friends, one day at the movies, Chinatown - everything! Though at first I felt quite uncomfortable in shifting to this city atmosphere, it became normal to me.

Evening. I had taken an early leave from office that day. Picking up a quick meal from the 'Oriole', I returned to my flat at 6 p.m. At 7, as I opened up Facebook and was surfing through some posts, I suddenly got a notification over there. Opening it, I was amazed.

It was from Emile. Emile Popper.

At first I couldn't recall who he was. Then I remembered.

Emile Popper was my friend back in Alabama. We used to study and play together over there. That was a 16-year old friendship. It had been seven years since...

The message read: 'Hi, there! How are you in Chicago?' 

He had not forgotten me after all these years. Excited, I typed back...

Then, I stopped.

It was five years ago. I was returning from a party hosted by a friend of mine in Montgomery. I lived in Hoover. I must have drunk a lot back over there. That night, me and three of my friends (two of them now even work with me) were driving on the return path. We were over speeding so much, we didn't realize the man just crossing the road - just a few kilometres away from Hoover. The car just ran over him. It was only the next morning that we found out that...

Emile Popper had died due to a car accident. The accident had occured due to a over speeding by a blue Volkswagen, as said by a local who was also present...

My body suddenly shivered. I suddenly realized that if I had been there over in the driving seat...

That incident was 5 years ago...it seemed so faint and distant...

But then, who was this guy messaging me? Was it some other Emile, or...

I closed the tab and reclined on the sofa. No, no! I furiously tried to reason with myself. He was dead...he was...

Suddenly, I straightened up. There was someone over there, standing in the lane just below my window. I got up, and went over there.

A man stood over there, just between the busy road and the lane. He was wearing a hoodie, so I couldn't clearly see him in the evening dusk light. He just stood there, staring into the lane. Then, he looked up, and looked up towards me...Emile!

I slammed the windows shut, and sat down on a chair, panting. What did I see? Who was he? So many questions were storming...

No, I said to myself. Perhaps it was the workload I had been getting. I needed to rest (that was the reason I had left early today!)

Deciding to do the new - but old - 'Netflix and chill', I got up, when suddenly something came into my room crashing through my windows!

Shocked for a few months, I picked it up. It contained two things: One, a 'Hot Wheels' model of a blue-coloured Volkswagen, and two, a piece of paper, on which it was written:

'REMEMBER THE 9TH OF OCTOBER'

***

-2-

It was four days ago I had last stepped out for office. Everyone was worried about me. After the receiving of the note, I came down with fever. My body temperature was 104 Fahrenheit. I know this all sounded way too crazy - I mean, there had been numerous occasions where the damn windows had been broken by kids for pranking purposes...Ok, maybe the Hot Wheels part can be related to it...

But the note? What of that?

Anyway, four days had passed, and I had given no one any bit of information what was wrong. So, when David came in the afternoon, I realized that not only I was about to get a bit of scolding, but also, I could tell someone that something was wrong. After all, David Roost was one of my friends on that fateful night...

'Say, Amie (my name though was Amelia), what was wrong with you all these days? You just disappeared like smoke? Boss was a little angry with you - you know, for there were so many clients you have now this season - Hey Amie, are you - ?'

I must have had become a bit unconscious during the conversation. Jolting up, I asked him:

'Dave, you remember that night, right?'

David looked puzzled. 'Which night are you talking about...?'

'That night, when Emile...'

David - like me - suddenly was lost in thought for some moments. Then, he said:

'Yeah, so? We weren't involved...'

'I thought that too, Dave. But yesterday that thought was proved wrong. David, he's here.'

'What nonsense are you talking Amie? I don't understand...'

I got up, brought the two things which I had received the other day, and placed them before David. He examined them carefully, and then laughed aloud.

'What?' I asked.

'Can't you see? This is all a simple joke. Some kid...'

'This was not a practical joke, Dave! I literally saw him...'

But he still continued to laugh.

'Listen, you are already having too much of stress these days. It might have happened that incident must have come across my mind, and then you just simply imagined these things. Now what I suggest...hey, Who's there? WHO'S THERE?'

I turned around. A long, black shadow had suddenly emerged at the doorway. It disappeared immediately when Dave shouted out. We both rushed towards the door, but by that time it had disappeared.

'Wait a moment, Amie. That scoundrel must have not gotten too far...'

Having said this, he ran down the stairs in pursuit for the man.

I came back and sat back down. I had already known that David will not believe me. But whose shadow was that? Was that man eavesdropping? If so...then was he...

My thoughts broke off due to a sudden loud sound outside.

'CR-R-AS-AS-S-H!!!'

I immediately ran outside. What I saw there, shocked me so badly that fever caught me again that day.

Dave lay over there - spread-eagled on the road - with blood spilled all over his body! 

'Drivers these days!' a young man beside me said. 'I saw it clearly, a blue coloured car, just hurtled towards him at break-neck speed. The man flew away, and he sped away towards the darkness...'

'Um, did you by chance see the model?' I asked him. An uneasy feeling had crept upon me all of a sudden.

The man thought for a while, and said:

'Um..it was a Volksw-'

I didn't hear the rest of it. I sprinted back towards my flat, slammed the door, and slid into my sofa, panting. I knew it. I freakin' knew it! He was there. He was the one. No one knows who killed Dave...the police will continue to search for the man who killed David Roost but I knew...I knew...

Suddenly, I felt something in my pocket. It was a piece of paper, on which it was written:

'I AM BACK, MY FRIEND.'

***

-3- 

After the incident with Marcia, I completely stopped going out. Marcia Gomez was one of the four present on that day. She also one of my colleagues. Her death...

Emile was back.

It was the 16th of October - just three days after David was brutally murdered. My fever had got from bad to worse. Then, On Sunday, (15th) I realized that if I lay over here like this, I would go mad and the belief that a vengeful man haunting would firmly have its grasp...

No, no. I had to go out. Some fresh air and the city's pomp and hustle-bustle would lift up my spirits and also might make me forget all this. Maybe David...

Marcia could help, though. She might remember.

As it turned out, she did. So...

'Jesus, I was literally scared by the fact that any day the police was gonna come and arrest me.' Marcie said, as she munched down on her chow. We decided to hit Chinatown that afternoon. And it was over here...^^

'But look Amie, I think you are mistaken. There has to be some other explanation for this.'

'There aren't any other explanations, Marcie. He is over here. He wants revenge. Oh, I'm so terrified. No reason at all, I'm facing fever like never before. I haven't even gone out this week. I'm scared, Marcie. We did a terrible thing back there. I think he...I think...

'Calm down, Amie. It's gonna be...'

Our conversation was suddenly interrupted because someone suddenly collided with me and fell down. Saying nothing, he got up, and ran outside. 'Hey jerk! It wouldn't hurt to say Sorry! Nitwit!' Marcia shouted out. I got up just enough to get a glimpse...

The man had a hoodie similar to the one I had seen a week ago!

'You hurt?' Marcia asked me. 'You don't look well...'

'No, no, I'm fine.' I replied back. 'I thought...'

After spending five more minutes, we payed our bills and went outside. I remember it was 4 o'clock. The sunlight was about to fall...

'Listen, I think you are just unnecessarily worrying about it. Consider David's accident as one of those normal car crashes. What is done, is done. No worrying about it afterwards...'

I shook my head. Though I still couldn't figure out whether the man I had seen was...

No. Enough for today. I waved Marcia goodbye, and then started walking down the pavement. Hardly had I crossed it, when suddenly,

'CR-RA-A-A-S-SH!!!'

I heard a loud sound just behind me. Turning around, I sensed that

(no god please)

my suspicions might be true,

(dear lord have mercy on me)

and indeed they were. There lay Marcia - dead in the same manner as David had been murdered, in the same manner as...as

(no just leave me)

EMILE HAD DIED.

This time, I didn't stay there for long, for

(I'm feelin' dizzy)

I knew what had happened. I knew

(my legs are shakin'. God, oh god)

exactly how Marcia got hit by a speeding blue-coloured Volkswagen, which had disappeared into the darkness. I walked back...back down the pavement.

Correction: I didn't walk back. I RAN.

---

As I opened my bedroom, I nearly tripped over something. Switching on my light, I found my bedroom in a mess - bedsheets were torn apart by what seemed to be a knife, and the floor was strewn with cars...small, miniature cars...

Cars which belonged to the blue Volkswagen model of 'Hot Wheels'.

I couldn't stand anymore. I dropped down on my bed. An unknown fear was grasping me.

(the darkness the darkness is so black the darkness)

I laid down on my bed. I felt like screaming into the...into the...

(WHY ARE YOU STILL HIDING? YOU FREAK! COME AND KILL ME! WHY ARE YOU TORMENTING ME!)

Suddenly, the feeling of  'something is in my pockets' came over me, and automatically my hand reached over there.

There was also a piece of paper

(the man had left it there the man who stumbled against me the man who killed Marcia the man who was there in Chinatown)

but this time, there were some digits written over there. Upon closer observation, I found that it was a phone number. 

'+1 727 9148657'

I reached for my phone...

***

-4-

My body is shaking. My hands are shaking. But still, I'll not faint. I have to now accept. 

(The past is over here)

I have to accept my fate. 

The previous night, I dialed the number and called it. After five or seven rings, I said:

'Hello?'

___

'Hello? Is anyone there...'

No response. Then, a high, cold voice came from there...

'I knew it. After all these years, I knew it. You would phone me up, Amelia Turner.'

'E-E-mi-le?'

A ringing laughter came from the other side.

'Yes, your Emile. Poor, sweet, friendly Emile! The Emile who was killed that night 5 years ago, killed by the woman he knew as a loving friend!'

'You thought - you thought that you all would get free without any guilt, right? But - oh you were wrong, so wrong! I waited for some confession - you remember that day, when you confessed to the teacher that you had stolen a cookie - but you didn't came. Oh yes, you thought that I had died, right? Well dear, I had not. If you had read the news more carefully, you would have found out that the dead body of Emile Popper was not...hahaha!'

Everything seemed to be coming from so far...as if the voice took time to register in my head.

'I escaped to Chicago, and waited for...waited for revenge. In the meanwhile, two of my murderers...'

'Please li-listen E-Emile...'

Another laugh came.

'I waited for you...just for you to come. Else how I would extract my payment, Amie? Then, at last you came - at last, I would be able to tell them that I'm alive - get it, I'M ALIVE!'

'But how do I exactly do that? Well, I had been tracking you ever since you came here - along with those two. Then, I got into a cyber cafe and send you that message. I knew that the incident would be erased from all of your minds. So, that would help you all - especially you - about that sin.'

'Then you know what happened. You want to know something Amelia? D-do you kn-know who was the man you saw from your window that day? Who was the man who killed David Rooset? Who killed Marcia Gomez? Who broke into your bedroom and had covered it with the same car who - supposedly - killed me? Who sent you all those pieces of papers? Why, it was me! IT WAS ME ALL ALONG! Hahahahahaa!'

My hands had started to tremble. My head began to see darkness...

(don't faint out now girl please don't faint)

'Now, it will all be over. Tomorrow, before daylight, it will be all over...Hehehehehahaha!'

The phone cut off all of a sudden.

I threw it down

(you disgusting inhuman -)

and started screaming.

***

...Epilogue...

The phone is now dead,

(everything dies)

so is my sense to reason.

(no sense to reason no sense)

I now just lay in my bed, waiting,

(the patient stork waited, much to the amazement of the saint)

waiting for him to come. It would be useless to now do anything. I don't know why am I giving up all of a sudden. It seems crazy

(The tell-tale heart made the narrator crazy)

to believe that he is coming..coming to get me...

Time passed...passed...passed

(The Judgement was close)

Then, I heard the front door creak. Yes, he was here

(he had returned)

at my house. He was here after 5 years...

(On the third day, Jesus rose)

Now, as he came towards the bedroom, I shut my eyes. I didn't want to see him...

(The Devil was terrible his eyes were coals)

Yes, I could feel him, opening the door 

(The narrator opened the door of where the vuture-eyed old man lived)

and strolling towards me. It seemed he had no hurry. 

(why should he he will escape or get caught but still why should he)

I could feel his breath - hot and perhaps furious.

(furious because of my forgetfulness oh god help)

He was now on my bed, coming towards me. I wanted to scream, but refrained from doing so.

(what good will it do though you silly girl)

As he came more closer, I remembered all what happened two weeks ago...oh the memories.

(the bloody deaths by cars)

But that didn't matter anymore...

(Nothing matters near death..)

He got more closer...even more closer...

Is it...is it possible to have one look at him...to just look into the face of my friend...to just look into the face of my friend back in Alabama, Emile Popper?

Taking a deep breath....

(it felt cold)

I opened my eyes.

***

M.Macabre

24.10.2020

Dedicated to: Redi, Sayak Aman