The following story/stories have been either submitted by one of my readers or found on other websites.

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I was temporarily appointed to guard a sick prisoner in the district headquarters hospital. I liked this duty because it was just for 8 hours daily while my usual is 12 straight hours and secondly It was calm and nice.

I’d just sit there on a bench in the hospital ward and read some old newspaper or have a looksie at those nurses. Got nothing to complain about.

Everything was fine and alright, except the very person I was guarding.

The old patient. He was tall and thin, old and feeble. I don’t know what was he diagnosed with but he was just a skeleton underneath the skin. Big bald head, eyes popped out the sockets, mouth wide open. It was torture to witness him taking vaccines. No muscle at all on limbs or butt cheeks.

He was indeed enduring the worst phase of his life. You’d never find him asleep. Strangely… I never felt that pity or sadness for him, which I usually would for others. He was something else. I used to think while looking at him… “he’s not here, he is not looking at this front wall but some other realm waiting for his acceptance or approval. He’s damned and cursed”. I know this sounds strange.

There was something astoundingly creepy about him, I am telling you.

Anyway…

I used to sit beside this man for 8 hours from 4 pm till midnight. He would not move or talk to anyone. He wouldn’t feel anything, He wouldn’t look around at all! Just a straight constant gaze on the front wall.

It was my fourth day there. I was tired and filled with boredom, waiting for the next guard as the clock was saying midnight. There was complete silence and inactivity in the ward. To kill the boredom, I picked a magazine and tried reading it again.

Barely a few minutes passed and I felt sudden discomfort of some sort.

I raised my head and found that the old man’s head is turned towards me and he was staring at me.

I cannot explain the uneasiness it caused.

Our distance was barely 3 feet as I was sitting on a bench right beside his bed. A straight and uninterrupted gaze like he’s looking into my soul for a change. I gathered some courage and looked at him like we are into “who blinks the first challenge”. I failed of course.

Soon my colleague appeared. I sincerely thanked God. We talked briefly and I handed over my rifle and log register. Next thing… I was out of the hospital, took a cab and went home.

It must be around 1 am when I reached my neighbourhood, from there I had to walk on foot as streets are too narrow for vehicles. It is a 10-minute walk to home.

It’s a routine for me to come home really late at night. I was walking calmly on desolated streets, packing a .30 cal sidearm. I don’t remember, but I must be thinking about my online activity for the next few hours. (I was single back then and lived with my parents).

Finally, I reached the street where my home is situated on the very end. What irritated me the most about this street was that nobody would turn on their outdoor bulbs except my mother (for me). It’s a long and closed street and without any light, it gets dark. So yea our neighbours were cheap that way.

In the very end, a light bulb outside my home was lit. Whenever entering my street, I automatically get a little cautious but calm down after finding nobody in the street. I heard of a few robbery incidents previously so you can understand the reason.

But that night…

As I was entering, I saw somebody right in the middle of the street. I slowed down a little to observe. He was around 40 yards ahead, walking real slow, leaning heavily on the right side in a funny stance. He was in the darkness as the only lit bulb was on the end outside my door.

“He isn't a robber or thief”. My mind told me.

I never halted but walked slowly towards him. It was just a matter of seconds for me to cross beside him and get to look at him.

Suddenly something snapped inside me. Something started screaming so loud in my head for there’s danger ahead.

I am in danger!

“Who are you?” I yelled loudly.

And that’s exactly when I was right upon him, I saw him. I saw his face.

May the Lord have mercy.

That was the very same, very real… sick old prisoner I left in the hospital an hour ago. Leaned to the right side, wearing the same gown, barefoot. He was looking at me as I passed by him, he turned around slowly and walked to me.

I can’t control the shiver even at this minute of writing.

I did not run but I walked super fast and reached my home. Rang the bell furiously and prayed to God that “my father gets the door as soon as he usually gets”. I kept pressing the doorbell while staring at that man approaching me… slowly.

“What is going to happen if he comes near me? Should I shout or attack him? I cannot let this incident be an embarrassment for myself. Nobody should know I just got scared of something”.

Thankfully my father opened the door.

Before going inside, I looked back. Nope… There was nobody in the street. My father went back to his room without noticing my sweat or tremble. Maybe I did well calming down myself.

I went to my room, changed my uniform and sat on a sofa. Thought about what just happened. This room has a door and window that opens towards the street as well.

“I did not see a ghost. No. How can this be possible?”

I remained silent and thinking of any legitimate reasoning that could defy this.
And then it stopped.

No sound of any kind. I could feel that nobody is outside my home now. And then it struck me…. why don’t I call the god damned hospital? I should talk to my colleague to ask how is our patient doing.

I picked up my mobile and …. low and behold.

An SMS from the same colleague had arrived half an hour ago, saying.

“Neman, don’t come for hospital duty tomorrow. Sick prisoner died shortly after you left. I am going home too. Let’s take a day off and will report back to the police station together”.

No matter how good I spin this to convince myself it wasn’t paranormal.

I fail.

Because I saw him. It was him, the sick prisoner.

But I don’t believe in ghosts. What do I make of it then? What seems the best explanation of all this according to my knowledge and beliefs.

It wasn’t a case of hallucination. I saw someone, not human… I am stressed.

Who is capable of composing a good trick like this?

Who could carry such a tremendous sinister and negative energy, is supernatural, can adopt any shape or form and can feel free to put out one hell of a show like this just for kicks and giggles.

One coming to mind.

Jinn, the perfect conjurer.

The next thing I notice, somebody is in the street, right outside my window. I heard lamenting in low pitch. I heard footsteps. A legit shiver ran through my spine.

I am experiencing paranormal activity. There is a ghost outside my window.

I didn’t run to another room, I just sat there, leaned my head and closed my eyes to concentrate on the words he was mumbling. I couldn’t understand. But I can tell you…. he was mourning, expressing his grief.

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This was dangerously terrific but I also wanna know what's there to be embarrassed about? Yea you saw something and got scared, are men not allowed to show that they are scared or what?!

These Indian people disgust me so much!
Just because he is a boy he can't be scared or cry. My foot.

Stay tuned for the next chapters.

Once again this book contains only real-life events, not made up stories.

Thank you very much for reading.

If you want your stories to be published here, private message me and get a chance to have your story in this book.

Next chapter: Obsessive stalker

Word count. : 1433