Sharmishtha Basu is an unemployed artist, writer who is out to test her works, see if they can help her to build an “unorthodox” career, a path followed by many before, some has been blessed with success, most have not, let us see what you make of her attempts! A failure or success- it all depends on you. These are pieces from her book, the book is available on createspace and amazon- It is a collection of dark stories, paranormal mostly but not gothic, it prefers scaring by creating eerie images not blood, gore, violence. She will certainly love to see it in your Halloween collection!
They rushed below. The men were terrified beyond words. After a few gulps of whisky they regained their senses.
The sense they could make out of their babbles was they prepared for the shooting- the cameraman Chandan was standing on the camera, Vijay the sound recorder and the narrator Mohan were nearer to the mist. The director Prabhat was instructing them. Mohan stood too close to the mist and started to talk, they wanted the best shot of the mist, all of a sudden a hairy hand shot out of the mist and sucked him in.
“He was screaming and screaming….” Prabhat shuddered as he recounted, his face twisted with horror.
Vijay ran after him without thinking. They both vanished. Chandan and Prabhat started to scream their names when one by one their heads were thrown at them still dripping with fresh blood. They ran as hard they could; leaving all their equipments behind, the loud laughter of a woman followed them for long.
“We will have to recover the equipments ASAP before the mist gobbles them up.” Rajan commented. “They are worth millions of rupees.”
He was still grimacing from pain.
“Are you sure?” Mitesh asked. “I will go and pick them up!”
“No. I won’t let you go there alone!” he firmly said.
They left for the mist on feet because it was not possible for Rajan to go there on car in the bumpy road.
They left and to their horror noted that the mist was moving in daylight now, in scary contradiction to the words of the old man. It was barely a few miles away from his home now, the speed in which it was moving it will be there before dusk.
“Let’s get out of here.” Rajan has turned back the moment he has seen the mist blackening the horizon. Mitesh has followed him without a single word. The equipments were gone. It has crossed at-least two miles after devouring the men in two hours.
They quickly climbed the cars and picked up the men from the village. The villagers were long gone.
“Can’t we have a single glimpse of the mist? Or take a few shots from distance?” the village team grumbled a little but fell silent after noting the deathly grave expression on Rajan’s face.
to be continued…