It was so quiet in the night; all that could be heard was the chirping of crickets. Gibson couldn't stop himself to come to the castle. Gibson held his torch, focused on the well. Slowly, as if possessed, he went to the edge, focused his torch and leaned in to look.
Gibson came two steps backward and looked around focusing the torch flash. Old walls of the castle and the wild grown trees around, appeared more terrified than in the daytime. Howling of dogs could be heard from far distance, which made the environment more timid. Besides well was the old castle. Gibson slowly and cautiously started to walk towards the castle.
Gibson entered the castle. He was walking one step at a time cautiously and alertly inside the castle. Gibson scanned around, suddenly realized that some black thing was about to attack him. Frightened, he stepped back and ducked down. They were bats – swarms of them. He dived to the ground. They hovered on his head for a while and went away. Gibson let out a sigh of relief.
Old portraits of Leonardo Da Vinci were hanging on the walls of the castle. Gibson tenderly touched a portrait, showing his liking and respect about Leonardo Da Vinci’s art.
Suddenly Gibson sensed someone’s presence outside the castle. Gibson steadied and switched off his torch trying to listen to the movements outside. As he stopped, the movements outside also stopped. There was weighty and fearful silence. He peered out, took his long hair strands back with one hand, which obscured his face.
He saw a scary shadow, carrying lamp.
Who could it be?...
This time of hour?...
Gibson hid behind the wall. To his astonishment the image moved in the direction where he was standing.
When Gibson realized that the shadow was coming to him, he silently picked up a piece of wood lying nearby. As the silhouette was coming closer, Gibson’s grip on the piece of wood tightened.
As the image came in his reach, he hit it hard. The image fell down and screamed.
The voice seemed to be known...
Gibson immediately switched on the torch and focused it on the image. He was a villager – Brian, around 35 years of age, black shiny skin and muscled body. They had met earlier in the village.
As he focused torch light on him, he screamed protecting his head with his hands, "Sir ... its me...Brian... I came to help you."
"This time? ... Is this a way?" Gibson said in irritation.
Brian sat up holding his head. Gibson went closer to him and checked his head injury.
"I am so sorry... I thought.." Gibson apologized.
"I got to show you something." Brian seemed to be comfortable now.
"What? " Gibson asked.
Brian got up, removed a tennis ball from his pocket, and held it in front of Gibson.
"What is this?" Gibson asked.
"It’s the same ball, which fell in the black hole." Brian explained.
Gibson grabbed the ball with surprise, "Where did you get it?"
"My son got it." Brian said.
He took a closer look of the ball and was surprised to see the monster picture on it.
Original Novel By – Sunil Doiphode
English Version By – Mugdha Apte