The Revenge of the Dead

This story takes us back fifteen years, when Asif and Rizwan were medical students. One day, while studying human anatomy in class, their teacher announced, “Dear students, after the upcoming two holidays for the Islamic festival, I will take a full test on the human skeleton.”

Both Asif and Rizwan immediately felt anxious. Despite reading the textbooks repeatedly, the bones and structure of the skull were not clear in their minds. Asif suddenly suggested, “If we can get a real human skull, it will be much easier to study. Holding it in our hands will help us memorize the names of the bones better.”

Rizwan was skeptical, pointing out that images on their phones could suffice. But Asif insisted, “Future doctors, Rizwan! Nothing compares to studying a real skull in your hands. We cannot afford to fail; remember the last test, we scored poorly and our teacher, Dr. Ayaz, was very upset.”

Convinced, Rizwan agreed. The solution, Asif proposed, was to contact a gravedigger at a cemetery outside the city, someone Rizwan knew slightly. The next day, they went on their bikes to meet him. The gravedigger, Quamr Din, greeted them and led them into his modest sitting area. Despite some hesitation, he eventually agreed to provide a human skull, after Asif assured him it was strictly for medical study. They agreed to collect it at 10 p.m., paying him 1,000 rupees in advance.

That night, Asif and Rizwan sneaked out under the pretense of visiting an injured friend in the hospital. The cemetery was eerie: lightning flashed across a cloudy sky, and the shadows of trees loomed like dark spirits. Rizwan’s heart pounded with fear, but he pressed on, bolstered by Asif’s presence.

At the cemetery, Quamr Din dug up the grave of an elderly man named Waqar, carefully removing the soil and lifting the skull, which resembled a melon in shape. He placed it in a black cloth bag and sealed the grave. Asif felt a strange warmth when holding the skull, as if it carried life itself. The two students returned home cautiously, Rizwan storing the skull in his locked cupboard.

Days later, a shocking incident occurred. Rizwan’s nephew, Waseem, was injured when a piece of cement fell from the roof. The child was rushed to a local doctor, who patched him up, and Rizwan began to wonder: could the skull they had taken from the grave be exacting revenge? That night, his mind lingered on the possibility, though Asif laughed off the idea, joking about spirits and the 21st century.

Then tragedy struck. At dawn, Rizwan was awakened by his brother’s panicked voice: Asif had died during the night. A ceiling fan had fallen on him while he slept, striking his skull and killing him instantly. Rizwan realized, with horror, that the skull they had stolen had seemingly taken vengeance, claiming Asif’s life at the very spot where it had been disturbed.

Asif’s funeral was held, and Rizwan, grief-stricken, could barely bear to see his friend’s body. Ironically, Asif’s coffin was placed in the same cemetery where they had dug up the original skull, a grim reminder of the consequences of their actions.

After a few days, Rizwan felt compelled to return the skull. He rode to the cemetery, locating Quamr Din working in the southern corner. He explained that the medical college had now provided real skeleton parts for their studies, and the skull was no longer needed. Quamr Din, understanding the seriousness, agreed to re-bury it that night, taking a photo for Rizwan as proof.

As Rizwan left the cemetery, he noticed a fresh gravestone: it bore Asif’s name and date of death. Seeing it, his heart sank. The skull’s revenge was real. What had started as a seemingly harmless academic plan had led to tragedy, leaving Rizwan with a deep understanding that some actions, even for education, can have unforeseen consequences. The dead had taken their revenge, and the eerie cycle began and ended in the very cemetery where it all began.