The Khet-ki-Mend Haunting 2
1872 Words
Anju came to a sudden halt, her eyes widening in alarm. “What? A replacement principal? What has become of Ma’am Roshni?” Her voice was a desperate gasp. It felt as though the very floor was giving way. Between the night terrors, the injury on her arm, and this news, things were spiraling out of control.
“Anjali... Ma’am Roshni has passed on.” Mengah’s tone was quiet and somber. She kept her eyes on the ground, unable to meet her friend's gaze. “It’s heartbreaking. Everyone in the staff room is devastated.”
“That’s impossible! It can’t be true.” Anju shook her head, her thoughts racing back to a few days prior. “Ma’am Roshni visited my home just this Saturday. She was on our veranda, laughing and admiring the shawls she wanted to buy from Mother. She was perfectly healthy.”
She looked between Sushi and Mengah, hoping for any sign that this was a terrible joke, but their pale, frightened expressions told her otherwise.
Shawls are luxury Indian garments, often made from pashmina or silk and decorated with beadwork, sequins, or Zari. They are traditionally worn for weddings and formal events, and Shanti was one of the few in Ratanpur who could craft them with such skill.
“Ma’am Roshni was discovered in her home. It was a gruesome scene, Anju. Her remains... they were partially scavenged.” Tears streamed down Sushi’s face. She looked physically ill and unsteady. “The locals are claiming it was a predator. Perhaps a wolf.”
“A wolf? Here in Ratanpur?” Anju’s sorrow was deep, but her logic was sharper. “Ratanpur isn't the wilderness, Sushi. Wild animals don't break into stone houses to hunt people.”
The news felt like a physical blow. A wave of sickness rose in her, accompanied by a sharp throbbing behind her eyes. The air in the garden felt thin and suffocating.
“Anjali, you’re trembling. Please, settle down.” Mengah gripped her shoulder to steady her. She led her toward a wooden bench while Sushi followed like a silent shadow, carrying their school bags.
The bench felt cramped under the weight of the sudden tension. Anju, still fighting the nausea from her morning terrors, struggled to catch her breath.
“What about her loved ones? Her children?” Anju asked, her breathing heavy as she rubbed the mark on her arm that seemed to burn under her touch.
"According to my mother," Mengah whispered, leaning in close, "the authorities told the neighbors that Ma'am Roshni's family fled the house immediately for their own safety. They are terrified, Anju. No one knows who might be next."
The image of the family running for their lives chilled Anju, but it also solidified her resolve.
“Listen to me, both of you,” Anju said, staring at her friends with intensity. “I need your help with a plan.”
“Fine, tell us what you're thinking,” Sushi and Mengah replied, their curiosity outweighing their fear for a moment.
“After our lessons today, don't head for the gates. Instead of meeting my father, we’re going to Ma’am Roshni’s house.” Anju’s voice was firm. “I have a feeling... this tragedy is linked to my dreams. If we can find even a small piece of evidence, we might get justice for her.”
She began to plead, reminding them of the principal's kindness. “Think of how good she was to us. Mengah, when your mother was sick, Ma’am Roshni paid your tuition for three months and never asked for anything back. And Sushi, remember when you were unfairly left out of the debate finals? She was the one who fought until you were included.”
She turned back to Sushi. “And you, Sushi, recall…”
“Stop this madness, Anju! Just stop!” Sushi cried out, leaping from the bench in a panic. “First the dreams, then that scar, and now you want us to investigate a crime scene? You need to accept that this was just a horrible, natural accident.”
Sushi wrung her hands. “Do you want me to be hunted by wolves? What would I tell my mother? That I went looking for clues at a death site? No, Anjali, this is insane. The police said it was an animal. There is no monster!”
“Sushi, be kind to Anju. You’re being far too harsh,” Mengah interjected, trying to keep the peace.
She then looked at Anjali. “And Anju, I know this feels real to you, but this plan is dangerous. I can't be a part of it. Ratanpur is under the protection of the Almighty. No darkness will touch our homes. You need to rest. We are far too young for this.”
Anju’s eyes burned with a fierce, terrifying clarity. Their doubt only made her more certain.
“Ratanpur has a history of shadows,” Anju said, her voice dangerously low. “Anything can happen here. I know I’m not losing my mind. There is something evil behind her death, and if you won’t help me find it, I will go alone.”
She stood up abruptly, adrenaline surging through her, and marched toward the classrooms.
“Anju, don’t go searching for a danger that hasn't found you yet!” Sushi shouted, her voice trembling. “If you do this, I’m telling your mother!”
“Anju, wait!” Mengah called out. “The assembly is starting! The new principal is about to speak!”
Mengah pulled Sushi along, running to catch up with Anju before she disappeared into the crowd heading for the hall.
The Assembly Hall was soon filled with students, the noise of their shuffling feet and urgent whispers creating a chaotic energy. A few selected students from the sixth (final) year helped the teachers organize the masses into a semblance of peace and quiet.
A young lady who appeared to be in her early 40s and about six feet tall walked down from the back entrance up to the podium. She was accompanied by several teachers and class masters of St. Joseph’s.
Anjali, reeling from the harsh exchange with her friends, rested her head face down on the desk, tears dripping onto her folded arms. She felt utterly alone, isolated by the terror that only she seemed to feel. Sushi and Mengah, after trying for too long to reach her, eventually let her have her time, but Mengah never stopped taking quick glances at her friend as they all sat together.
“Alright, good morning, great students of St. Joseph’s Modern School. Good morning, great children of Ratanpur!” a voice sounded loudly from the podium. It was Master Suryakante, the biology teacher, feared by many for his sharp voice and stringent discipline.
“We are saddened to share that our principal, Ma’am Roshni, has passed away after a short illness. While we grieve, we must trust in the will of Bhagwan, who brings us into this world and calls us back when our journey is done,” he announced.
The room erupted in whispers.
“I can't believe he’s lying so openly,” Sushi whispered to Anju. “We all know the truth about the wolf.” Anju didn't answer, her heart heavy with grief.
“We heard a predator killed her! That's what everyone is saying!” a student shouted from the crowd.
“Ratanpur is not the jungle. There are no wolves here,” Suryakante snapped. “Focus your energy on your studies. Ma’am Roshni died of an illness, and that is the end of the matter.”
“But Master,” Ronky, a fifth-year student, asked, “my mother says the Creator does not cause such pain. How can this be?”
“Take your seat, boy. We will all face the end one day,” the master replied.
“One minute of silence for Ma’am Roshni,” he added, gesturing for the students to stand up. The students, understanding his rigid move, stood and prostrated in obeisance.
“May the soul of the departed rest in the bosom of our Maker!” He further said, and the students sat down.
“Now, over to the main agenda for this gathering, this morning. The High School Ministry of Ratanpur, HSMR, has sent us a new principal that will be in charge of St. Joseph’s High School from today henceforth. And before I introduce her to you all, I want to sound this clear: it’s pertinent that you all accord her the respect she deserves, because failure to do so will attract the immediate penalty of indefinite suspension or a possible expulsion.”
The threat hung heavy in the air.
“Permit me to introduce to you, Ma’am Saresfati!”
Palms clapped sharply against each other as the tall lady who had walked in initially made her way to the center of the podium.
Anjali looked up, and her mind recoiled. For a second, the woman’s face seemed to peel away, revealing the sunken eyes and skeletal grin of the creature from her nightmares.
“Protect me, Mother. Protect me, Father. Oh Bhagwan, help me!” Anju gasped, falling into a panic.
“Anju, stop, you’re making a scene,” Mengah whispered, tapping her shoulder.
“You’re going to get us in trouble! Pull yourself together!” Sushi hissed.
Anju snapped back to reality, gasping for breath. “She is the darkness,” Anju wheezed, grabbing Mengah. “That woman is evil. Can't you feel it?”
“You're imagining things, Anju. She looks perfectly normal. You’re letting your fear take over,” Sushi replied.
“I need to get out of here,” Anju said, stumbling away toward the restroom, needing to escape the principal’s presence.
In the restroom, Anju splashed freezing water on her face, trying to wash away the vision. She looked into the mirror, and her heart stopped. Behind her in the doorway stood the creature.
“Oh Bhagwan, no...”
It was the same withered thing from her dreams, but now it was real and solid. Its claws looked like serrated blades. The air turned cold and heavy.
Anju backed away, but the creature glided toward her. Suddenly, the windows slammed shut on their own, and the lights died, leaving the room in pitch blackness.
She could see nothing but the creature’s faint, sickly glow. She tried to run but kept crashing into the stalls and metal fixtures. Blood from her cuts began to soak her clothes.
The creature kept coming closer and closer, its movement silent, inevitable. It finally stood right over her, its foul, cold breath brushing her ear, as it whispered the familiar, agonizing words:
“Anju, you can’t run from me, you know that, don’t you? I promised I would hunt you until I claimed you. I will destroy you, and nothing shall ever stop me!”
- Writer
