A short story full of suspense. Read a story full of mystery based on the Vengeful Stranger. Deceit, betrayal and killing are falling prey to the characters in the fan fiction story, in the enticing story.
The Treacherous Storm
The howling winds whooshed, and bouts of raindrops were trickling against my classroom window, on this evening. The grumbling thunder was droning, ‘boom-boom-boom!’ across the city of Mumbai. I knew that the season of monsoon, could be rather exciting or disastrous….
So, after completing the task of marking my students exam papers, I gazed across at the rear window. The experience of Mother Nature, always fascinated me, like a harmonious melody with the pitter-patter sounds! Therefore, from my desk, raising my head to catch a glimpse of the drizzling rain, could certainly make my heart jingle or palpate with fear.
Saying the word ‘fear’, an eerie feeling was dawning upon me, but what? Perhaps could it be, Mumbai’s famous floods or the loneliness in my classroom?
So, I decided not to fret, and divert the fearful thoughts. One way, would be to relax my exhausted hand along with my droopy hazel eyes. Thus, standing up from my desk and strolling towards the rear window, I tried not to contemplate the anxious feeling, dwelling in my mind.
The Peering Eyes
Upon reaching the window, I began to feel uneasy. So, gazing from the third floor downwards, to the asphalt pavement, suddenly there was a pair of eyes, staring directly at me. A jittery feeling ran through my entire body. Were the disturbing eyes, really looking at me?
At the spur of the moment, the monsoon drizzle was turning into gushing rain. The zig-zag lightning was dancing in motions. Suddenly, I gasped with fear – the peeping eyes was becoming into a shadowy figure, with the help of dim lights! I was perplexed with horror of a trespasser, on the school grounds!
The fear creeping into my veins, signaled me to vacate the premises now. Especially, as the spine-chilling shadow, was supposedly watching me, near the grove of coconut trees. Still a question crossed my mind, “How would an outsider, cross the security guard without alarming him!?”
My eyebrows frowned, unerringly. All I could do now, was not only to dodge the alleged stranger, but also reach home safely to my aged parents. My weak mother and father would be worried about me, their only child!
Exiting the Classroom
Swiftly, I packed my purse, stepped out of my classroom, and ambled into the wide corridor.
Suddenly, a shimmer of light, caught my eye, it was a blessing in disguise. The flickering light shone from my colleague, Mrs. Laxmi Patel’s classroom. I bolted inwards, and nervously told her, “We need to leave now! The furious storm will flood,not only our school, but also the complete area. More so, I’m rather fearful of a dark shadow that’s hiding on our school grounds!”
Mrs. Patel was content, even though I said ‘dark shadow’. She was our Senior Teacher. Her alice-white hair, was tucked away into a simple bun, and her buttercup yellow silk saree, was draped with elegance. I was in praise of her poise, and grace. She responded to me, “Rishika, you go home! I will be fine!”
I felt my heart’s panic button beep, especially after listening to her words. Nevertheless, I nodded at the wise teacher, smiled and left immediately from her classroom.
Scurrying through the corridors, down the spiral staircases, through the school’s lobby and finally sprinted to the security-cabin. Within moments, the shadow was pacing in dainty steps, cautiously gliding himself, from the shadow of the trees, towards me…
Trying to escape from the outsider, I became a soaked sponge. So, I enquired with the security guard, “Whom is the person roaming around on the school grounds?”
The young guard said, “Madam, nobody has entered the school. Only Mrs. Laxmi Patel, you and me, are on the school premises.”
My eyes grew large, at the guard’s response and thought about the lingering shadow. I promptly requested the security guard, “Please find me an auto-rickshaw to take me to Kandivali, immediately!”
The polite school-guard nodded and dashed away.
I was restlessly waiting. It sounded as if a drummer was beating his sticks on the security cabin’s tin roof! In fear, I poked my head out of the cabin. Neither a single soul nor a rickshaw, was seen on the main rugged road. Still, I was conscious that the stranger, was still sneaking nearby.
Finally, I breathed a sigh of relief as the security guard was seen – running and drenching himself in the heavy rains. Once he approached me, I thanked him, and asked, “Where is the rickshaw?”
The security guard’s head bowed in disappointment, and complained, “Rickshawalas do not want to come here, Madam. They are afraid of the huge pot holes and the major traffic-jam, leading to Kandivali!”
I gasped and said, “I’m doomed! I will not be able to leave school, especially with the stranger watching my every move!” My mind was panicking!
Mrs. Laxmi Patel
Within moments, the senior colleague, Mrs. Laxmi Patel swiftly bolted towards the school gate and said, “Oh my goodness, Rishika! What happened? Why didn’t you go home yet?”
I narrated the rickshaw’s excuse to the considerate old lady. She told me, “Don’t worry Rishika, you can come to my house. I live a mere five minutes away.”
I smiled at the aged educator, and said, “Mam, you are very kind! Thank you.” So, it was the best plan to escape the peculiar devil!
Mrs. Patel simply smiled. We began walking, under her umbrella – skipping over the broken tiled pavement and hopping over the puddles, until we arrived at Sapphire Enclave. Unfortunately, a huge uprooted tree had collapsed on the main gate. Mrs. Patel and I, clambered over the smashed gate and the fallen tree trunk, then walked through the driveway.
In the meanwhile, I could hear footsteps of someone. Just as I turned around, the figure ducked below the fallen tree trunk! The stranger was sending creepy feelings down my spine!
Sapphire Enclave Flood
Within moments, an old man of Sapphire Enclave,was standing in his balcony. He began sending warnings to anyone entering the complex, “Don’t come here! The building is leaking through the wide crevices! The front lobby is entirely flooded leading up the staircases! The electricity power supply has been switched off! We are imprisoned in our own building! Go somewhere safe!”
I looked at the poised teacher and said, “Mam, what should we do? I think the stranger is here too.”
Mrs. Patel confidently responded to me, “Ignore the old man and the stranger! I believe that, staying in my apartment, would be safer than anywhere else! Even though it is raining continuously, I’m sure that we have enough stamina to climb up to the third floor, till my home.”
My motivated reply was, “Yes! Mam!”
The aged woman humbly said, “Let us move steadily.” As we were walking, I noticed the corner of the building. It had splashes of water blurting out from all over the broken rusted water pipes, creating a muddy puddle in the ground! Moving through the mud, and into the lobby, we found it rather painful to soar each step of the winding flight of stairs.
My school colleague breathed a sigh of relief and exclaimed, “Thank goodness, my third floor is not looking like a swimming pool!” and opened her front wooden door….creakkk!
Mrs. Laxmi Patel’s Home
After entering the home, I scrambled in my purse for my mobile torch. While switching on the torch, inside her lounge, Mrs. Patel said, “I will fetch candles and biscuits. You should inform your parents that you are safe in my apartment, away from the rain. They may be worried.”
I nodded and then within moments, dialed my parents’ numbers. Unfortunately, both their networks were out of range! A sudden ill feeling was dawning again upon me, perhaps it was because the stranger was lingering nearby. I flinched fearfully.
Fortunately, Mrs. Patel was lighting the candles, and didn’t see my nervousness. I began to munch on her snacks and listen to her explain, “Sapphire Enclave, is an ancient building with several problems. Even though the flat roof, has a metal roof placed above, the cacophony of the raindrops pounding on it, is better than suffering with ceiling leakages! More so, senior citizens, like myself have found solace here.”
As she spoke, I felt nostalgic about life – bitter of our teachers’ promotions – sad about Mrs. Patel’s unfortunate widowed life, and her grandson, Rahul.
What or Who was on the Roof?
Suddenly, I heard something scurrying over the metal roof and anxiously I told my senior colleague, “I have a nagging feeling….. The stranger from the school grounds, has followed me up to your apartment.”
Mrs. Patel said, “I don’t think so. It must be your fatigue, that’s tormenting your mind. My home is extremely safe, besides I’m sure the third floor, is flooded by now. So only a rescue team can save us!”
I responded to the active granny, “Yes, you may be right. I hope a rescue team, would bring us food and water, as we could be stranded here, for a long time, if the rain doesn’t stop! Also, I’m truly exhausted. Please may I go to bed?”
Mrs. Patel smiled, nodded and showed me her room and led me to the guest room.
Within moments, Mrs. Patel and I were tucked away in our respective beds, dozing off. Suddenly, the midnight hand struck, and my eyelids abruptly flung open! I heard the raucous footsteps on the metal roof. I switched on my mobile torch and looked everywhere – nothing was seen.
Was it The Mysterious Stranger or A Vengeful Stranger
I was in deep thought and my pursed lips were quivering. My mind, heart and soul were racing, but I was consciously talking to myself…
The rain is relentless. I hear it thrumming on the metal roof and running down the broken pipe into the mud, and I moisten my cracked lips with my tongue. I wonder if they’ll bring me food and water. I wonder if they’re coming at all…
Was it really the stalker or a rescue team coming for me?
Suddenly, I became utterly terrified with the cast of darkness, from my window. I was absolutely sure now, that it was NOT a rescue team! The stalker had followed me! He was gliding cautiously across the edge of the balcony rail, and jumped on to the balcony floor – THUMP!
I somehow gathered courage, and steadily tip-toed towards the locked balcony door.
I took a deep breath and shouted, “Get out! Get out!” Yet, the pelting raindrops were blatantly noisy, on the metal roof, that it drained my voice! I was scared to my wits, that I looked around for a place to hide…
The Stranger opening the Door…
Slowly, the stranger was turning a key to open the door. The door was protesting as it opened – creakkk! The stranger didn’t utter a word while entering my room. From my hiding spot, his manly body was dressed in ebony black – trousers, coat, monkey-hat, and sports shoes, absorbed in the heavy rain.
He scornfully searched for me. He stood tall, with his beefy structure, and with his aggressive voice he said, “I know you are here – Rishika Mathur!”
Who was the Stalker?
I was stunned! From my hidden spot, a series of questions poured out of me, “Who are you? What do you want with me? How do you know my name?!”
The hefty criminal, took another step closer – following my voice. He said, “I have been watching you all evening. From the time you were in your classroom, Mrs. Patel’s class and until you reached her home.”
I was stunned! Affirmatively I said, “Yes, I know – you were stalking me!”
With my heart in my throat, I crept out and turned to him. His glaring eyes were shooting me like daggers. I was extremely terrified, but it was wise to listen to him. So, I said, “What’s your story?”
The stranger began, “The day I saw you, my heart pumped a million beats for you. I was secretly in love with you. However, when you accused me of MURDER, all the love in me turned into FURIOUS REVENGE!”
I defended myself and cautiously said, “I didn’t accuse anyone of anything!”
“Yes, you did! I WAS the school athletics coach!” said the stranger violently, and pulled his monkey-hat up, revealing his identity, “Can you identify me, now?!”
I spoke with anger and surprise, “Mr. Vikram Kamath! I hate you as you are a womanzier, and MURDERER of Mrs. Laxmi’s grandson – Rahul Patel!”
The Angry Stranger
Mr. Kamath angrily said, “No!!! I’m not a MURDERER! You are wrong! I was trying to save Rahul, from death! You assumed and accused me of killing my star athlete! Consequently, you informed the school management and POLICE!”
In shock, I asked him, “How did you escape from the police, especially holding the murder weapon – a razor blade, in your hand?”
Mr. Kamath was on a warpath with me, “That was not my razor blade! I didn’t carry it with me, when I fled. I was fortunate to escape from injustice – my well-wishers helped me to flee! Also, the proof of Rahul’s death was revealed…”
Trying not to express my fear, I asked, “What proof?”
Mr. Kamath narrated, “Firstly, Rahul Patel was defeated by the rival school – in the hundred metres race, state level competition. So, he was ragged upon by his peers.”
I attentively said, “I see…”
The athletics coach continued, “Secondly, Rahul couldn’t bear the ‘failure’ tagline. He was even humiliated on social media. He lost the name of ‘CHAMPION of the YEAR’.”
I nodded sympathetically, and said “Mrs. Laxmi Patel was devastated!”
Mr. Kamath agreed and said, “Yes. I know that Mrs. Patel’s loss was uncalled for! Anyway, I want to show you something.” He pulled out a picture and placed it in my hand. He said, “Thirdly, this is Rahul Patel. On the photo’s reverse side,Rahul has poured his heart out in his poem, revealing the proof of his death.”
The Heart Ache Poem
With a deep heart, I began to recite Rahul’s poem, in my mind:
As the poem ended, tears trickled from my hazel eyes.
Mr. Kamath was standing near the door, talking on his phone, like a polite gentleman, “I’m well and good. I will see you soon,” to supposedly one of his well-wishers.
After he disconnected the call, I said to Mr. Kamath, “I feel awful that Rahul committed suicide!”
Mr. Kamath shook his head in denial. He grabbed my hair.
Being terrified, Rahul’s photo dropped from my hand!
The coach was mumbling, “The damage is done! I have been evicted from my house, fired from my job, and disowned by my family! I am ruined!”
Fretfully saying to Mr. Kamath, “I’m sorry! Let me go!” Swiftly thinking, I crushed my teeth into his arm, and fled screaming, “Help! Help!” into Mrs. Laxmi Patel’s bedroom.
Mrs. Patel sat up from her bed, as I barged into her room. She yelled, “Stop Running Rishika! Immediately!” She held my hand, plopped me beside her, and stopped Mr. Kamath from chasing me!
Mrs. Patel glared at the athletics coach, and said, “Is this the way to behave with Rishika?”
Mr. Kamath was scornfully smiling and said, “I know my behaviour is not apt for you, Mrs. Patel. However, I tried to kill her without your presence. Since, I’m aware that you were devastated seeing Rahul’s bloody accident….”
The aged teacher looked at the coach and said, “I have always treasured your guidance!” Then she turned to me and sadly said, “My grandson, Rahul’s accident, was truly unfortunate.”
How and Why did the Boy Die?
The white-haired granny stood up slowly, with wells of tears. She said to both of us, “Rahul would have never died. He found the sharp razor blade from my sewing kit, to commit the heinous crime. Unfortunately, Mr. Kamath couldn’t prevent the loss of blood oozing from his wrist!”
I was shocked and asked, “Mam, how do you know so much?”
Mrs. Patel pursed her lips and uttered, “Well, I was so devastated, that when Mr. Kamath approached me and presented Rahul’s poem. He also added the fact that, you stopped him from giving first-aid to my dear grandson!”
I choked with fear, anger and responded, “Mam, I stopped Mr. Kamath from helping Rahul, because I hated and loathed YOU for stealing MY promotion, as one of the Senior Teachers. You told the school management that I didn’t deserve it, and decided the promotion was your favourite teacher – Priyanka Sharma!”
Mrs. Laxmi Patel’s Hatred
Mrs. Patel looked at me with hateful eyes!
I continued to speak, “So, the day when I saw Rahul lying on the floor, with Mr. Kamath holding the razor blade. I thought, this would be the easiest way to take revenge for your unworthy decision, and destroy Mr. Kamath’s career!”
The old teacher said, “How could you be so cruel? You let my grandson die because you were NOT awarded a promotion!?”
I nodded, then slowly asked the old lady, “So, have you been the Master Mind of bringing me to your home, to be killed by Mr. Kamath?”
Mrs. Patel squeamishly said, “I am the brains behind your fate. Our plan was to torture you NOT kill you, just as Rahul trembled in his death. You sicken me to the core!”
Suddenly I remembered, “You and Mr. Kamath were conversing on the phone-call together, a couple of minutes ago, planning my torturous death!”
The deadly duo, squeamishly smiled and replied together, “Yes!”
Mrs. Patel stood up, glared at Mr. Kamath and angrily said, “She deserves to die! FINISH HER!”
Without sparing a single second, the sharp butcher’s knife was stabbed all the way into my intestine! All I could do, was scream over the pelting noisy rain, “Ahhhh!”
I was paralyzed in a pool of blood. As my eyes were shutting, I saw Mr. Kamath and Mrs. Patel, shaking hands, confidently.
Mr. Vikram Kamath said, “Mission Accomplished!”
Mrs. Laxmi Patel replied, “Death Avenged of Rishika Mathur – The Vengeful Stranger!”
Thank you for reading.
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