The night of blood

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The night was oddly peaceful, and maybe a little too quiet. It was that night when everything was darker than usual. It was fearful for the weak, but for strong men like me, it was like all other days.

That night, I did not fall asleep at all. I just stayed, lying on the bed, looking upwards. I turned on the lights and reached out for my book, when suddenly, the power went out. The air conditioner did not work, nor did the lights.

I took a torch that was placed on my cabinet beside the room, and tip-toed across the room to the door. I switched on the torch as I opened the door of my room. Normally, when we have power cuts, my sister would cry, but she didn’t. My parents did not come out of the rooms to see the power breaker.

I went over to my parents’ room. The door was opened slightly. I pushed open the door. There lay the feeble bodies of my parents, blooded all over. Parts of flesh from their necks were missing. A hole was punctured in the middle, blood spurting out onto the floor. I wailed as I dropped onto my knees beside them. Then I remembered my sister. I rushed out, and opened her door. My sister’s body lay on the floor too, blooded. And then, before I knew it, a knife went through me, and my body fell. My ghost saw a hooded figure bending over my body, biting into the throat.

By Induwari Wickramasinghe