The hut

The hut was located at the far end off the Brownlance Street. Brownlance Street was a peaceful street with its rows of houses lining up neatly side by side and it was where I lived. By 8 o'clock in the night, everybody will be in the indoors with their doors locked. Nobody dared to be out in the street after 8pm. Nobody except the retired security guard who lived at the other far end of the street.

The hut was located at the far end off the Brownlance Street. Brownlance Street was a peaceful street with its rows of houses lining up neatly side by side and it was where I lived. By 8 o’clock in the night, everybody will be in the indoors with their doors locked. Nobody dared to be out in the street after 8pm. Nobody except the retired security guard who lived at the other far end of the street.

 

Brownlance Street was not like this, though, before the murder took place. It was a bustling street filled with night activities. There would be carnivals and people would hold parties. However, everything changed after the murder which took place on a rainy night. The drunkard who lived in the hut was murdered in the most disgusting manner. He was dissected and his body parts were being hung around in the hut with blood dripping. The police did not manage to solve the case and nobody knew who the murderer was. Ever since the murder took place, people of Brownlance Street started hearing wine bottles being thrown around and a man’s voice could be heard spewing vulgarities from the hut every night. They knew it was the murdered drunkard. Yet, the retired security guard denied everyone.

 

“What rubbish?! There’s no noise from that hut, you all’re just scaring yourselves. Cowards!” he snarled.

 

Everyone paid no attention to him and thought he was insane.

 

“So no one believes, huh? I’ll prove to you people, I shall spend a night in the hut tonight.” With that, he walked back to his small apartment with his walking stick which never leaves him. 

 

“Ashley, why not we follow that old man tonight and see what happens?” my brother suggested cheekily.

 

Being the fun loving kind, I nodded my head enthusiastically. The stars brightened by dozens until the sky glittered. It was 8.49 pm; my brother and I were hiding behind a bush near the hut where we got a clear view of it. The cold night air ripped at my lungs.

 

 “I don’t think he will come, we’ve been waiting for 30 minutes and not a single soul in sight. And it’s cold out here.” I complained.

 

A short and thin figure appeared right after I finished my sentence. It was the retired old security guard. He walked slowly towards the hut with the support of his walking stick. The wind ruffled the tufts of hair that fringed the top of his bald head. A flush of excitement was rising up to my neck into my cheeks. The old man stopped in front of the hut and gave a raucous smirk. “What's so scary about your hut, Steve? It’s been a while since I visited your hut, the last time was when I murdered you. I’m not scared of anything and I’m spending my night here.” He then entered the hut, showing no signs of fear. There was silence, an uneasy silence. 

 

I felt the hairs on my arms rose. “Shall we leave? He has entered the hut already.” I rose shakily to my feet.

 

Stop being such a chicken. Let’s stay and see if something happens. Just a while more.” My brother refused to leave yet. It was already 9.28pm. Just then a scream was heard.

 

“Let go of me! Help!” Frightening thoughts raced through my mind and I could feel myself shrinking back in fear.

 

“What should we do now?!” I asked my brother, shaking his arms. The incessant blood-curdling screams in the hut set my pulse to pounding. Before he could say anything smart, silence returned to the street. Not a single sound is heard from the hut. The screaming had stopped. I felt a sudden nip of fear and ran back to home, pulling my brother with me. Fear had already washed away his strength.

 

The next morning, everyone was talking about the screams last night. Not before long, they realized that the old man was missing too. By the late evening, there was a putrid smell came from the hut. Police was called in and the old man was found dead. His head was missing and the police was not able to find it. People of Brownlance were scared wild.

 

That night, not only were the smashing of wine bottles and a man’s voice were heard, knocking of a walking stick was heard too, disturbing the night. Though my brother and I knew what had happened, we did not mention this to anyone…

The End

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