Ghostly Spite

Hello Reader...here's a story

1. The Shoemaker 

In a small town, one shoemaker was walking back home to his little hut on the outskirts of the area. It had been a long, sad day, for the shoemaker had received just a handful of customers, barely making him enough to buy some breadsticks the next day. Tired, he trudged back home, freshened up, and starting pouring out his soup, which was the only supper he could afford. 

It was twelve minutes past midnight; normally, the very thought of staying awake would be enough for the person to bail on the idea, but not this man. After years of staying alone and being up till late at night, nothing fazed the shoemaker anymore. Not the sleep, and nor did the rumours about the monsters that lurked at night.

According to the rumours, there was once a trader who was denied refuge due to his appearance during his short visit to the town. He died of starvation in the woods, and now his ghost would return to haunt the town. 

It's been two years since that rumour first started...no such ghost was ever reported. However, since some people spread lies about witnessing some paranormal presence, the villagers still believed he was on the prowl. But of course, the shoemaker didn't believe this, for he was the one who had sent the man away due to his ego. Business was great at the time, and he thought very fondly of himself, so much so that he refused to help someone with torn clothes and a mud-stained face. He refused to help the man and told him to go back to his dirty dwelling.

This fateful night however, even the shoemaker felt particularly off; it was something with the air, it felt...colder. And why wouldn't it, for just across the door of his hut stood the pale blue ghost of the vengeful trader, glaring at the shoemaker through the window. 

The shoemaker started to head towards his kitchen, and just as he looked outside the window, he saw the same man who had been found dead two years ago, standing across the road, his gaze fixed upon him.

He couldn't believe his eyes at first, but when he caught up with reality, a burst of adrenaline shot through his body as he rushed to lock the front door. Alas, ghosts don't fancy doors.

The ghost phased through the door, pushed back the startled man, and in the process, ended up destroying the door. This noise was enough to wake the young lady who lived down the lane.

The ghost dragged the shoemaker out of his house, inching closer to the woods. The ghost turned red and tightened his cold, piercing hold onto the man's wrist, urging him to look into his eyes.

"LOOK INTO MY EYES! LOOK INTO THEM! LET ME BECOME ONE WITH YOU! TOGETHER WE'LL BE SO STRONG. ALL IT TAKES IS ONE GLANCE" the ghost's raspy voice chanted, but the shoemaker was smart enough to know not to follow the strange being.

The ghost stopped chanting after some time. It's grip lightened, and soon the man felt free, slumped onto the floor of the cold woods. After waiting some more time, he opened his eyes, only to face the red eyes of the ghost staring right into his soul. He could feel the life sap out of his body, and he helplessly held his gaze, slowly losing his soul. 

A few seconds later he slumped back onto the forest bedding, only this time, he was dead.

2. The Lady

The lady had seen the act, and was left horrified beyond words. She didn't make a sound, and slowly took a step back. The only problem was, she stepped onto dry leaves of the fall that had just been shed off last week, making a swift and crisp "crunch" sound.

This was enough to alert the ghost. Nobody could live to confirm his existence, for sooner or later they'd know how to counter him. But he couldn't allow that, he couldn't lose once more.

He vanished into thin air, sending a cold wave of fear down the lady's spine. All she could do was run, but she knew there was no escape. Sadly, she hadn't heard that to be consumed by the ghost, she had to look right into its eyes. So she ran faster than she ever had run before, determined to make it out to the city.

But she felt her legs freeze, the jolts of coldness jabbed at her body from each and every side, making her stop right in her tracks. 

"LOOK INTO MY EYES DEAR, LOOK INTO THEM! JOIN YOUR OLD SHOEMAKER FRIEND! TOGETHER WE WILL BE SO STRONG" the ghost chanted once more, and thats when it struck her. She pulled out her pocket mirror, and held it close to her eyes before opening them. It worked, the ghost couldn't see her yet.

She ran as fast as she could once more, and tripped over a fallen log. The mirror flew out from her hands, and she raised her hands to cover her eyes. 

"HOW ADORABLE LITTLE ONE....MIRRORS WON'T HELP. MY EYES WILL! THEY WILL SET YOU FREE! LOOK INTO MY EYES!" the ghost chanted yet again, holding a hint of the shoemaker's voice in its own.

The girl felt powerless, and screamed, "NO! PLEASE LET ME GO!"

The lady, being adamant, had compelled the ghost to once more use the trick of pretending to give up. It lightened its grip, and let the girl fall back onto the ground. She lay still, aware that the ghost was still there. 

Not soon after, she had to open her eyes. Once again, the ghost's bloodshot red eyes pulled the girl's soul from her body, fused it in it's own, and the body fell once more, dead.

3. The Last Witness

The ghost sighed. It's revenge was over, it was time to return once and for all to the underworld for eternal rest. All of the witnesses were done. Something felt odd to the ghostly being....as if it were still being watched. 

It looks around, scanning the entire maze of trees around itself, but no...there's nobody! It's confused, and trying hard to interpret what it is feeling. Someone was watching, and still is watching. It looks to the right, and shakes its head. It looks to the left, still nothing. 

And then it looks in your direction, right through the screen.

"YOU! YOU'VE BEEN WATCHING MY EVERY MOVE! I CAN'T LET YOU GO NOW...COME, JOIN ME.

LOOK INTO MY EYES! LOOK INTO MY BEAUTIFUL EYES!"

You look away, and scroll down, rolling your eyes.

"It's just a story", you think to yourself, "this ghost can't do anything to me."

You look at some other text on the site, but the site glitches for a second. You've missed it. You scroll down and finally see it.

The ghost has carved out a message for you.

-Armaan Kothare

(the Trader)