The Visitor of Shadows



It

No one had lived in that house for a long time. Villagers said the house was frequented by a "visitor of shadows." A few clanimed it was a abandoned bride who had gone frantic after her wedding was suddenly canceled. Others whispered that it was the soul of the zamindar's younger brother, who had kicked the bucket strangely in a fire. But there was one thing they all concurred upon – anybody who looked at the house after nightfall welcomed hardship.

But city-dwelling author Arnab Biswas didn't accept such superstitions. He had a distinctive mission – he was composing a frightful novel and needed a genuine encounter to motivate his story. So, equipped with a rucksack filled with a burn, phone, scratch pad, camera, and dry food, he arrived in Arannyapur to spend a night within the frequented chateau.

The house was nearly in ruins. Parts of the roof had collapsed, the floor was congested with weeds, the dividers were secured in cobwebs, and the entryways squeaked within the wind like they needed to elude. But Arnab wasn't frightened – maybe, he felt energized.

Around 1:

00 a.m., he lit a lantern and climbed up to the floor. He found a moderately intimate room and set up his bedding there. But rest didn't come effectively. Abruptly, he listened to an interesting commotion – like steps gradually climbing the stairs. Each step resounded through the discussion like a drumbeat.

Arnab got his camera and looked through the entryway. No one was there. But the sound proceeded. Presently it appeared as in the event that somebody was standing fair exterior the room.

Gathering mettle, he opened the entryway.

No one.

All of a sudden, a blast of frigid wind blew into the room. The lantern's fire glinted and passed on. Haziness closed in, thick and choking. Arnab turned on his phone's spotlight and looked around – as it were to discover a shadowy figure standing by the window.

The figure taken after a lady – hung in a white sari, hair free, confront clouded. But her eyes—they shined ruddy like burning ashes.

“Who are you?” Arnab inquired, voice trembling.

There was no reply. The shadow moved gradually toward him. Arnab attempted to step back, but it was as if his legs had halted working. He was solidified in place.

The figure lifted its head. Arnab saw clearly— there was no confront. Where a confront ought to have been was a dim, empty void. From that void, smoke started to leak out, gradually filling the room.

The smoke developed denser. Arnab's vision obscured, his breath caught in his throat, and at long last, everything went dark.

The following morning, a few villagers came close to the chateau. They found Arnab lying within the yard, eyes wide open, gazing at the sky. He didn't react to their calls.

They took him to the clinic. The specialists said, “Severe stun... post-traumatic state...”

But when the camera was inspected, everybody was dazed.

The film appeared around 1:

40 a.m., Arnab opened the entryway – and no one was there. At that point, the camera panned to the window, capturing the dull figure gradually drawing nearer. Abruptly, the film glitched, the screen shook savagely, and after that it went dark.

Since at that point, no one dares to go close the house in Arannyapur. A few say Arnab still wakes up shouting at night, whispering, “She's here… she's standing by the window… she has no face…”

And some accept there are not one, but two guests of shadows in that house.

The Conclusion.