THE EARBUD CHRONICLES
2. THE VENGEFUL FIVE
2. THE VENGEFUL FIVE
“Make way, make
way, hot crunchy finger-chips on the way,” sang rotund little Varun. He backed
in through the door with a large tray piled high with their favourite fries.
“Yummmm…that
smells delicious,” chirped Alisha, skipping to the table.
“And here’s the
sauce,” Poonam placed the bowl with a flourish. “OK now, everybody, gather
around. The midnight hour is tolling and time is ripe. Let’s begin our party!”
She was the eldest by a whole year and made sure the others followed her lead.
“Where’s the
magic earbud?” Prashant demanded impatiently.
Sri burst
through the door panting, “Here.. here. The tip is dripping fresh. Let’s
begin.”
During the day
the town hummed and buzzed with life but at night it was a perfect haunt of
ghosts. The innocents always slept blissfully though, while the guilty
shuttered their doors and windows tight and cowered indoors. The little town,
quickly rising to infamy because of its ghosts, was the worst on moonless
nights. Clouds shrouded the starlight and as the clock tower in the central
square tolled signifying midnight, street dogs always set up a peculiar
unearthly howl. The town children huddling under their bed-sheets, before they
fell into peaceful sleep, often recognised the howls of ghouls in pain. Ghost
children, on the other hand, knew that such nights were perfect for their job --
Child Calling.
Having polished
off the tray of fried fingers, a necessary diet to process an important
ingredient for their potion -- Varun spitting out a stubborn nail that refused
to be masticated -- they were ready and assembled around the steel surgical
table in the middle of the room. Sri placed the earbud reverently on the table
and they raised their arms and stood ready. At the count of six, they started.
Clap, swing arms, a half turn to slap their neighbour’s palm, back, clap, turn
the other way… At the same time they chanted:
Lizard stools
and tadpole slime,
Mix in
villain’s blood with sprig of thyme;
Rat droppings
and pig’s tail hair,
Burst balloon
from a children’s fair;
Temper with the
spice of mice,
Cool it smart
with a smelly fart!
Just a drop on
the ear-bud’s tip
Will knot a
villain in our whip.
Now Aditya, do
jump out of bed
You’ve been
chosen to avenge the dead.
As they
chanted, and hopped and skipped and swung round the surgical table, the
rhythmic clapping of their hands seemed to cause the sky to rumble and the
Earth tremble. A cool breeze rose in the room, picked up the earbud and
carried it out through the broken panes of the large plate window. The earbud
floated through the crumbling corridors of the ruined hospital, a site of the
heinous crime of organ smuggling it was rumoured. A trail of rustling dead
leaves followed its progress out of the hospital until it disappeared into the
night sky.
Across town,
ten years old Aditya, jumped out of bed. A blue earbud seemed in a tearing
hurry to shove itself up his nose if he did not act sharp. Plucking it out of
the air, Aditya was immediately aware of the course of action required. He
sprinted out of his house to the ramshackle cottage on the corner of the
street. It stood in a sea of stinky garbage, rusty junk and over-grown thorny
shrubs. The children of the neighbourhood always avoided this house and its lone
resident, a pot-bellied giant of a man.
Tonight, Aditya
did not think twice as he ran up to the door and hammered until it was opened
in a fearful rage. To be woken up in the middle of the night by a small kid!
But before the angry man could begin to bawl him out, Aditya shoved the drippy
end of the earbud into the fat gut in front of his face. Then with a quick
about-turn of his heel, he returned to his bed to dream of deeds of great
valour in which he saves the world.
At the other
end of the earbud, though, it wasn’t at all a pleasant sight. A spiny whip had
materialised out of the earbud and lashed itself painfully tight around the
man. He opened his mouth and shrieked in pain, but a swift wind carried it
away, leaving undisturbed all innocents’ slumber. The whip dragged him out of
the house, thrashing and wrestling and screaming, through the junk in the yard
and down the gravelly road, to the ruins of the old hospital. There the five
ghostly avenging angels awaited, ready with fitting retribution. They were
God’s helpers, sent to rid the world of crime. The man they had trapped tonight
was an organ smuggler.
Thank you Duane, for posting my attempt at penning horror :D
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