That Night

The storms in the darkness of that evening reflected the unusual rage of the nature. It was the most extreme thunder storm that was witnessed by the people of Harbor town in a hundred years. This was a fatality for the caught outsides, for the furious raindrops and lightning grace not their raincoats or their umbrellas nor prays or cries. But this pain of their found no sympathy in the hearts of those uncaught, who sit gorgeously on the ease chairs of their large royalist buildings, which are the only sites in the Harbor town (this town is the richest town of London). Their sole worry was, instead of escaping from the rain like the fate less caught, was drinking their imported beer and enjoying the storm outdoor for the sake of a comfortable chill, cosines and relaxation.

Mr. French was one of them. His son, the sole belonging to the of properties of his father, a mother less child (his mother’s eyes closed just a month ago, the boy was informed), was looking at his father take a long sip of a pipe with an ember at its tip (cigarette) and blowing out of his mouth a huge dark cloud like the dragons of fantasy books, asserting his father to be responsible for the dark clouds and the rain outside. And there went a sip from the glass with some kind of a funny looking liquid, funny to the 5 year old boy, with bubbles rising up (beer). This was followed a silent, disappointed yet drunk look of his father to the glass window with rain pattering and dripping with that funny sound, reflecting his miss for his wife. It was after that he noticed the boy.

“Sam! What are you looking at? Come here child. Come to papa.” French said lovingly.

The boy slid past the door through which he was peeping at his father and ran to French with his little feet. As he approached to him, his father lifted him up from his armpit and sat him down on his lap. And as this happened, a realization stroke French, which said that there was an unusual swell, a thin long hump on the chest pocket of Sam’s dungaree, wore on his yellow-red striped sweater- he surely held something in it, but what?

“What’s it Sam? Are you hiding something from me?” asked French lovingly, pointing at the hump.

The boy said nothing, just gazed with large eyes to his father.

French put his hand in the chest pocket of his dungaree to unfold the mystery what this little boy possessed. And his mind guessed it to be a carrot or his toy trucks or cars, of course, what else could a 5 year old possess?

But the terror that was revealed quite successfully disproved all French’s expectations. He fell back in shock- his glass trembled in his hands. He found no explanations to why would a child possess this? He asserted it to be the drink but was soon forced by his reasons to believe the horror, as they said that he had just started to drink and what one holds and feels can’t be a lie, how horrible may it be.

It was..... a knife.

Yes, knife, knife was what the child possessed, with the blade folded in, just of the size of the boys pocket, the most sharp and murderous knife in the house.

Why would a 5 year old posses a knife?

The rain fastened.

The night changed colours....

Newspapers said the next day:

“19 May 1998, Harbors town, London: There is no doubt in saying that the rain yesternight was furious and merciless. The gutters have over flown and the glass windows of shops are broken. 3 died lightning struck. But unfortunately the total death wasn’t 3; it was 5 as there were 2 murders in a house located at the eastern wings of the town. It was found today early morning when their neighbors visited him and were welcomed by blood, blood streaming out of the dead body of a little boy with a knife driven into his chest. Reports say his name was Sam and his age was 5.

It is quite hard to believe, but as the police and investigations said, the finger prints found on the knife were none other than his own and it was a suicide. More inside the house they found the dead body of a grown man, blood streamed out from his neck. Reports say his name was French and he was the father of Sam. And what made the case more gross was, the police found that above the cut neck was ....... no head. The dead body lay head less. And where was the head? It was lying on a plate between a pair of candles, in front of the photo of a woman who, according to reports, was his wife and the boy’s mother who died a month ago. And reports also say that the neck of the man was cut by the same knife that was in the boy’s chest, and had the boy’s fingerprints. Thus it was clear, though it is damn hard to believe and digest; the 5 year old boy killed his father and himself with a knife. But why?

By the setup of the heads and candles and all, it appeared that some kind of a ritual was being performed (harder to believe that a 5 year old was doing that). The locals and some church people said that it is a ritual, though an offensive and an evil one, used to bring back the soul of the people from the other world. It requires you to bring the cut head of a human, put it on a plate between burning candles and in front of the picture of the one you want to bring back.”

Was the boy trying to bring back his mother? From where did he come to know about it? Did he succeed? Why did he kill himself?

What do you think could have happened that night?