The Haunting - Fiction

in #fiction5 years ago

was not the same anymore.

I could taste fear. A faint metallic taste in my mouth. Ever lingering.

I could smell fear. It smelt like rotten eggs.

I could hear fear. The sudden laughter. The sound of the anklets on a running feet. The sound of footsteps passing by as if in a brisk walk.

I sensed fear. The faint brush of the fingertips against my skin.

Hello. My name is Rohan.

I am, well a famous exorcist in southern part of India. I am no priest. I am no spell caster. I acquired this skill by reading an practicing the knowledge I acquired from the ancient ritual books of the Indus valley people.

I enjoyed it. I had a calling to it. I could draw out a spirit easily. They could never hide from me.

But something happened.

I am now the victim. I am now the haunted.

I am stuck with an entity. It speaks to me. It tortures me. I know not what I have to do now.

Photo by Ian Espinosa on Unsplash

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