Chapter 31
Sam looked at the display of his ringing mobile. His partner was calling; he answered it.
"Yes?''
"Sir, we have the whereabouts of Mr. John Carter, Nancy's friend"
"Good. Very good" Sam said enthusiastically.
Sam's partner gave Sam the address and asked him to come down quickly.
.... John Carter was lying on his bed, coughing wildly. His beard had grown long and his appearance was extremely scruffy. It seemed that he had been lying like this on his bed from many days now and had rarely been going outside.
When Nancy was raped and murdered, John became very depressed and upset and was unsure about what to do next. He felt from the bottom of his heart that the culprits must be punished. But how? He was not sure about this. John roamed around on the dark streets on a night, or stood at the beach in the evening watching the sun set. Probably, he thought that his situation was quite similar to the setting sun, in the respect that his own light was slowly fading. It had became his regular practice to roam around the city in the day time and after he became tired, he used to sit in a bar, drinking uncontrollably. But for how long would he continue like this? Slowly, his roaming around decreased yet his drinking increased. Gradually, he became in ill health and was now so weak that he could not even get up from the bed. Though he was on his bed, he had been drinking. As soon as he used to lose the effect of drink, he used to recall all of the terrible memories of Nancy's rape and murder. And then he used to drink again. A vicious cycle.
John was lying on the bed, coughing badly. He tried to get up yet seemed to be very weak. In an attempt to stand up, he fell down to the ground, coughing loudly.
Blood came out of his mouth whilst coughing. He was scared.
I must go to doctor...
But how can I go when I am so weak?...
I should call out and get the neighbours’ attention...
But he was so weak that he could not even speak out.
What should I do?...
Finally, he made a decision. With the blood in his hand, he started writing something on the ground...
A man talked into a phone, "Hello, police station?"
He waited for the response from other side.
"Sir, I haven’t seen my neighbour in seven days. We have tried knocking his door, but there is no response. There’s an awful smell coming from his apartment and I think we need someone to come and check it out" the man calling said.
The man again waited for the response from other side.
"Thank you." The man disconnected the phone.
A police team headed by Detective Templeton reached the address given by the caller. They found the man waiting for them. He escorted them to a flat with its front door closed. As soon as they reached it, they had to cover their noses to avoid from the bad smell. They knocked on the door. No response. The door seemed to be latched from inside. They knocked again but there was still no response. At last, they kicked the door open. They covered their noses, as the smell intensity grew. Slowly, they entered the house.
Inside the bedroom, the police saw a decomposing corpse lying on the ground. Holding their noses tight, they moved closer. There was something written on the ground in front of the corpse. One of the police team members went forward and read -
“I am sorry Nancy, I could not save you. But don’t worry, I shall have revenge.”
Aghast - Horror Suspense Thriller Complete Novel
Re: Aghast - Horror Suspense Thriller Complete Novel
Chapter 32
Sam was sitting across from Detective Templeton, who had handled John’s death.
Detective Templeton started to provide information about the case:
"His death has occurred due to bronchitis and heavy drinking."
"How did you know it was him?" Sam asked.
"The room in which his body was found, we found some documents too. These confirmed that he was John Carter. Also, one of his photographs circulated by Detective Baker to all police stations came to us..." Detective Templeton then removed a photograph from his drawer and placed it in front of Sam.
"This photograph and the information sent by Detective Baker made our job easy when trying to find John's address and relatives" Templeton said.
"Have you contacted his parents?" Sam asked.
" Yes, we have called his parents. They have identified him as their son. Post-mortem also have identified him as John Carter, 22." Templeton said.
" When did he die? I mean how many days before you found him dead?" Sam asked.
" According to the post-mortem, it must have been early March" the officer said.
"March?!" Sam pondered over and realized, "Shit! Around the time the first murder was executed. ...That means he is not the killer."
"It seems" Templeton agreed.
Some time passed without any conversation.
It means the thing that Sam doubted is going to be true...
When Sam had received information about John Carter from his partner, he was very happy...
He had thought, at last, once and for all, the case was going to be solved. The killer was going to be caught.
But today, the case had taken one more twist.
Looking at the death time of John Carter, there was no chance at all of him being the killer.
"If John Carter is not killer, then who is ?" Sam asked, almost to himself.
All the people present in the office looked at one other with apprehensive silence as none of them knew the answer.
Detective Templeton removed one more photograph from his drawer and placed it in front of Sam. Sam picked it up and looked closely at it for a while. It was the photograph of John Carter on the ground and the writing in blood on the ground in front of him.
It read, “I am sorry Nancy, I could not save you. But you don’t worry I shall have revenge.”
Sam had understood why Detective Templeton wanted to show him the photograph.
"I am just sick of hearing that there is the involvement of some ghostly powers in these murders. Did you want to say the same thing to me by showing me the photograph?" Sam asked Templeton.
The detective looked at Sam and his partner's face alternatively.
"No. I don't want to say anything. I just wanted to bring it to your notice how the message written on the floor and the incidences happening are matching exactly” Templeton said.
Sam was sitting across from Detective Templeton, who had handled John’s death.
Detective Templeton started to provide information about the case:
"His death has occurred due to bronchitis and heavy drinking."
"How did you know it was him?" Sam asked.
"The room in which his body was found, we found some documents too. These confirmed that he was John Carter. Also, one of his photographs circulated by Detective Baker to all police stations came to us..." Detective Templeton then removed a photograph from his drawer and placed it in front of Sam.
"This photograph and the information sent by Detective Baker made our job easy when trying to find John's address and relatives" Templeton said.
"Have you contacted his parents?" Sam asked.
" Yes, we have called his parents. They have identified him as their son. Post-mortem also have identified him as John Carter, 22." Templeton said.
" When did he die? I mean how many days before you found him dead?" Sam asked.
" According to the post-mortem, it must have been early March" the officer said.
"March?!" Sam pondered over and realized, "Shit! Around the time the first murder was executed. ...That means he is not the killer."
"It seems" Templeton agreed.
Some time passed without any conversation.
It means the thing that Sam doubted is going to be true...
When Sam had received information about John Carter from his partner, he was very happy...
He had thought, at last, once and for all, the case was going to be solved. The killer was going to be caught.
But today, the case had taken one more twist.
Looking at the death time of John Carter, there was no chance at all of him being the killer.
"If John Carter is not killer, then who is ?" Sam asked, almost to himself.
All the people present in the office looked at one other with apprehensive silence as none of them knew the answer.
Detective Templeton removed one more photograph from his drawer and placed it in front of Sam. Sam picked it up and looked closely at it for a while. It was the photograph of John Carter on the ground and the writing in blood on the ground in front of him.
It read, “I am sorry Nancy, I could not save you. But you don’t worry I shall have revenge.”
Sam had understood why Detective Templeton wanted to show him the photograph.
"I am just sick of hearing that there is the involvement of some ghostly powers in these murders. Did you want to say the same thing to me by showing me the photograph?" Sam asked Templeton.
The detective looked at Sam and his partner's face alternatively.
"No. I don't want to say anything. I just wanted to bring it to your notice how the message written on the floor and the incidences happening are matching exactly” Templeton said.
Re: Aghast - Horror Suspense Thriller Complete Novel
Chapter 33
The prison was covered in darkness. George was sitting in the corner of his cell drowned in his thoughts. Suddenly, George got up and started ripping off his clothing.
He tore off his shirt. Out of the torn cloth, he made a doll. After completing the doll, a menacing smile crept over his face.
“Mr. Christopher Anderson, it's your turn now” he said fanatically to the doll.
A police staff on duty darted to the phone to report this to his senior.
Christopher was sitting in his foyer, drinking, and smoking tensely. He seemed to be tired. Lazily, he got up and walked around the room. He sat on a chair, drowned in his thoughts. Suddenly, he sensed somebody’s presence in the kitchen. The sound came in as if somebody was dealing with kitchen utensils.
Who would be in the kitchen at this hour?
Every door and windows was already closed...
Or is this some kind of hallucination?
Suddenly, the loud sound came of some utensils falling to the ground from the kitchen.
He got up.
What’s this?
His heart started pounding heavily.
He felt he was in fear unnecessarily... It must be something else he hears the like cat or...
He tried to console himself and calm down.
Christopher slowly approached the kitchen. Silence! All sounds had stopped.
Christopher opened the kitchen door ajar and peeped in.
There was nobody inside...
Warily, he entered the kitchen and looked around. There was nothing. He took a walk around.
Where is it?! There was nothing!...
Or, am I getting hallucinations?
But there was a utensil on the ground.
As he turned to leave, he heard something breaking in the foyer. Christopher, startled, rushed towards the foyer.
As he came in the foyer, he found his glass had fallen on the ground and broken. Whisky was soaking into the carpet. He looked around. There was nobody.
Christopher’s face started fading with menacing expressions. The effect of whisky was totally gone.
What's going on?
What's happening to me?
How the hell did this glass fall onto the ground?
He sat on the chair, again drowned in his thoughts. He picked up the whisky bottle and started to drink big swigs directly from the bottle.
The prison was covered in darkness. George was sitting in the corner of his cell drowned in his thoughts. Suddenly, George got up and started ripping off his clothing.
He tore off his shirt. Out of the torn cloth, he made a doll. After completing the doll, a menacing smile crept over his face.
“Mr. Christopher Anderson, it's your turn now” he said fanatically to the doll.
A police staff on duty darted to the phone to report this to his senior.
Christopher was sitting in his foyer, drinking, and smoking tensely. He seemed to be tired. Lazily, he got up and walked around the room. He sat on a chair, drowned in his thoughts. Suddenly, he sensed somebody’s presence in the kitchen. The sound came in as if somebody was dealing with kitchen utensils.
Who would be in the kitchen at this hour?
Every door and windows was already closed...
Or is this some kind of hallucination?
Suddenly, the loud sound came of some utensils falling to the ground from the kitchen.
He got up.
What’s this?
His heart started pounding heavily.
He felt he was in fear unnecessarily... It must be something else he hears the like cat or...
He tried to console himself and calm down.
Christopher slowly approached the kitchen. Silence! All sounds had stopped.
Christopher opened the kitchen door ajar and peeped in.
There was nobody inside...
Warily, he entered the kitchen and looked around. There was nothing. He took a walk around.
Where is it?! There was nothing!...
Or, am I getting hallucinations?
But there was a utensil on the ground.
As he turned to leave, he heard something breaking in the foyer. Christopher, startled, rushed towards the foyer.
As he came in the foyer, he found his glass had fallen on the ground and broken. Whisky was soaking into the carpet. He looked around. There was nobody.
Christopher’s face started fading with menacing expressions. The effect of whisky was totally gone.
What's going on?
What's happening to me?
How the hell did this glass fall onto the ground?
He sat on the chair, again drowned in his thoughts. He picked up the whisky bottle and started to drink big swigs directly from the bottle.