The Last Night of the Manor House

Story Name: The Last Night of the Manor House

Author's name: Sabina Islam. My name is Shamsher Sen... I am a history teacher by profession, but my hobby is a little different—I love chasing abandoned, unknown history and lost landlord families. The time of this incident was December 2022. Winter was at its peak, and I moved to a remote village in North Bengal—Chardurantapur. The history of this village is not in books, but the local people have oral stories—a terrible landlord family, whose bloody past is still spread in the air. As soon as I got off the train, the station covered in fog felt like a ghost kingdom. The name of the station was Daryapur Hat, from there you have to walk 8 kilometers to Chardurantapur village. As soon as I entered the village, I noticed one thing—everyone was leaving with their eyes downcast. As soon as I mentioned the 'Manor House', an old man shook his head silently and said: "Don't go there, Babu... Going there on a winter night means death. The last time a group of young researchers went there... All three of them died... I couldn't even understand how anyone died..." I laughed. As an urbanite, I don't believe these folk tales. But today I realized that I was wrong. Today I faced a truth that I never imagined..!

(The beginning of the incident) I saw the landlord's house around four in the afternoon. From a distance, you could tell it was once a building. Now it's just a piece of mourning, silence, and ruins. Moss all over the walls, eerie silence, and the crow's call seems to be more annoying here. I took out my mobile and took some pictures. Suddenly, I saw scratches on the door... many of them... as if someone was trying to get out from inside... but couldn't...

(First night) I pitched my tent in front of the landlord's house. My laptop, recorder, and camera were all ready. As dusk fell, the surroundings were pitch dark. I could hear the sound of gasping in the distant bamboo thickets. It was 11:30 at night. I was taking notes on my laptop when I suddenly heard the sound of a girl crying... from a little distance behind the landlord's house... sobbing with a tight voice. I thought maybe it was an imagination... but just then my camera flashed automatically... I looked and saw that the camera lens had caught a girl wearing a white sari, half of her face was visible, with holes where her eyes were. I looked back and there was no one... My throat went dry. My heart was pounding inside my chest.

(Midnight Horror) It was one in the morning. Even though I was scared, I didn't leave the place. Documenting all this as a professional is my job. Just then, the inner door started to bang open. There was a kind of rubbing sound coming from behind the door... the sound of footsteps... not one... many... I dared to turn on the flashlight of my mobile phone and looked through the gap in the door... a female figure was standing... she was not human, her legs were upside down... and there was emptiness in place of her eyes... she was coming towards me... not walking, she was floating... my arms and legs went numb... I ran. But surprisingly—the door of this landlord's house was open from the outside, but now it was bolted! I was about to jump out the window just then... "Do you know who died here...? Who did you call...?" — A male voice whispered... like hot air in my ear...