Black Magic

Ali woke with a start. His heart was pounding and he was shivering all over. The hair on the back of his neck felt queasy. He looked around him. Save for a slender shaft of moonlight penetrating through a tiny hole in the wall, he lay in pitch darkness. He sat up, dazed, wondering where he was and what he was doing there. It took him more than a few moments to gather his senses, and he remembered how he came to be in that room. He turned to his left. He could see nothing in the blackness. But he remembered his pal, Yusuf who was now lying beside him on the floor. The man must be fast asleep right now. 

All around him everything was quiet, except for the occasional, distant call of an owl in the surrounding woods. Ali tried to recall what had just roused him from sleep, and gradually he remembered. It was frightening nightmare. Frame by frame, as in a movie, everything he had seen in the dream came flashing back before his eyes. But was it all really just a bad dream? He could not be certain, for he recalled having dreamt certain things that he had actually experienced that very afternoon. What then was reality and what was the dream?

The dream began with Yusuf and him chancing upon the house where they were now, along the highway on their way back to their hometown. It had been a long journey and they were looking for a suitable place to rest and spend the night when they spotted the house through gaps in between the low., leafy trees that surrounded it. As they pulled up by the roadside, they noticed it was a two storey old house which was obviously disused. Parts of its wall had collapsed and many of the mouldy looking doors and windows were dangling on a single hinge. Not an inviting sight. But, dusk was already falling and travelling overnight on the lonely road was an unwelcome prospect. They decided to brave themselves and spend the night there. They alighted and followed an overgrown track to the house. As they did, a flock of pigeons, startled by their sudden appearance, noisily scampered off the rooftop and flew into the air. They found the front door ajar. As a matter of fact, the door leaf was askew and was hanging by a single hinge. Dust had formed a thin coat on the floor in the main hall and on the staircase leading upstairs.

They decided to use the room directly opposite the staircase. Under what little sunlight they had, they cleaned up part of the floor to serve as their bed for the night. They took the bread and coffee they had brought along, chatted, and lay down to sleep. This part of Ali's dream was what he and Yusuf actually experienced that afternoon. In the other part, he saw the house in twilight. He saw pigeons scampering into the air from the rooftop as he and Yusuf waded through the undergrowth along the track. He saw the room where they were. And he saw two figures, yusuf and himself, lying asleep on the floor. 

And then he began seeing some scary scenes. He saw a room he had never seen before. It seemed to be lit by moonlight, but where the moon was, he could not see. he saw three figures, hanging in a row from lengths of rope tied to a crossbeam. He felt something watching him from within. He shivered with terror as cold sweat streamed down his forehead. In the silence, his heart seemed to pound like cannon fire. Then the scene disappeared and he was back where he was, beside Yusuf. His eyes were focused on the staircase opposite the door which led upstairs. Moonlight shone on part of the steps.

Something, he could not be sure what, was lurking in the shadows. All he saw was a strange, eerie, golden glow of light. He became more terrified and his body went limp. That was when he woke up. Ali sat up, bewildered. His whole body was still shivering with fright. He stared at the staircase. Other than the thin band of moonlight piercing through a hole in the wall, he could see nothing else. He shook Yusuf, and then he froze. From somewhere upstairs came a whistle. 

It was tuneless, and yet pleasant to the ear. Nervously, he looked around to see if the whistler was entering the room. But there was no one. Then, Yusuf, who had been fast asleep, suddenly sat up. He seemed to have been alerted by the whistling. 'Yusuf...,' whispered Ali. But before he could say anything else, his friend had got up and was heading for the staircase. As Yusuf climbed the steps, he passed briefly under the moonlight, and Ali realized for the first time that his eyes were shut. Yusuf was walking in his sleep! Ali was so surprised, he did not know what to do. Yusuf soon disappeared in the darkness at the top of the staircase, but from the creaking of the floor under his footsteps, Ali could follow his progress. The the whistling faded away, and the creaking stopped. Yusuf had halted directly above him.

As Ali swallowed some saliva, a sudden, terrifying cry broke the stillness of the night. Ali screamed in shock, and jumped up and dashed for the door. he had taken but a few steps when he heard the floor above creaking again. This time, Yusuf seemed to be walking back towards the staircase. Ali stood at the bedroom door, waiting, and moments later saw his friend emerging from the darkness and stepping down the staircase. His gait look unsteady, like he was drunk or weak. his left hand seemed to be groping to find the way, but in his right hand Yusuf held an axe. Ali felt like screaming, but nothing came out of his mouth. he simply did not know what to make of this. under the light of the moon, he could see that Yusuf had turned pale as a corpse. His eyes, which were shut earlier, were now open, and seemed to burn with an inner fire. But, most shocking was the gaping wound on the left side of his head. It looked terrible and was pouring blood in frightening amounts. And more blood was dripping from the blade of the axe in his hand.

The next thing Ali knew, He was running helter skelter through the scrub in front of the house, screaming in terror. He reached the car, but as he struggled to open the door, something suddenly rushed at him, sending him fleeing again. he ran as fast as his feet would go, screaming for help at the same time. He heard footsteps catching up with him. but ahead, a pair of bright lights were approaching and soon, growing louder and louder, came the sound of the engine of a car. he dashed to the middle of the road and started waving frantically. the car halted not far from him. As he made a dash for it, he shouted in between gasps of breath, 'Help me, help me, please.... Something killed my friend and now it's coming after me!'

A pair of shining green eyes were lurking  in the bushes lining the side of the road. As he alighted, the driver of the car caught sight of them and, without a moment's hesitation, drew the gun at his hip and fired a shot. The pair of shining green eyes disappeared. 'Well, it's gone now. Wild dog, probably, though I've never seen a wild dog chasing anyone before,' he remarked. He turned to Ali. From the gun still in his hand, and the uniform he wore, Ali realized he was a forest ranger. 'Who are you and what are you doing out here in the dead of night like this?' the man asked, curious. 'My name's Ali. My friend Yusuf and I were spending the night at that big house over there. Then something appeared, something that had a golden glow of light. At first I was dreaming... there was a whistling upstairs and Yusuf got up and walked up the staircase to the upper floor. Walking in his sleep, mind you. Next, I heard a terrifying scream. It was Yusuf, no doubt... and then he came down the steps carrying an axe. He was bleeding profusely from his head, and more blood was on the axe. I think he'd split his head. I mean, my God, I could see his brain. And the blood! It just poured and poured.

'I supposed he's dead now. But he was like a zombie, coming for me with the axe in his hand. I knew he was going to kill me. So I fled,' said Ali. 'I'm Ibrahim. I'm the forest ranger here. Come, let's go back to the house. We'll see what we can do,' said the man as he showed Ali to his car. Along the way, they continued talking about the incident. 'You think you'd be brave enough to go back there?' asked Ibrahim. 'No, frankly, I don't think I am. But we have to recover Yusuf's body, don't we?' Ibrahim pulled up in front of the house, close to Ali's car. 'Look how frightening the place in in the darkness,' Ali remarked with a tremble in his voice. 'This afternoon, Yusuf and I saw a flock of pigeons flying off the rooftop.' 'Did you say pigeons?' 'Yes. Why?' 'I've lived here ever since I was born. And I pass this place frequently, both by day and by night, whenever I'm on duty. But I've never seen pigeons around here.' 'Well there must have been scores of them here this afternoon.' 

'Wait a minute. I just remembered,' Ibrahim cut in. 'Some rubber tappers living not far from here did tell me once that they have seen pigeons here at sundown. I know the house is supposed to be haunted and, in fact, no one dares to pass this way after dark. Those tappers believe the birds are really the spirits of the daughters of Haji Mahmud Kaya,' said Ibrahim. 'There's a folk belief that restless spirits like them are released from hell at dusk and allowed to roam free overnight. That's why we see the sky turning red or golden at sunset. That colour comes from the fires of hell, revealed only when the portals of hell are opened at dusk.' 'Who's this Haji Mahmud?' asked Ali. 

'He used to be the richest man around here, long ago. He owned all the land here. He had four daughters, but he was so rich and stuck up, no man wanted to marry them and they ended up as old maids. Then, during the First World War, Haji Mahmud went bankrupt. All his property was sold away and his family split up. And for thirty years now, ever since his youngest girl Maniseh ran away, the house has been left vacant. No one dared live here. There is a story about how Maniseh ran away from the house. It seemed she behaved very strangely and looked so frightened, as if something horrible had terrified her, sending her fleeing. Anyway, I'll tell you more about it later. Let's go in and see what has happened to your friend Yusuf,' said Ibrahim as he alighted from the car. He walked through the tangle of weeds with a torchlight shining his way ahead. Ali followed him.

They went in by the open front door. Shining his light at the staircase, Ibrahim drew his gun and stepped forward cautiously. Then he turned the light onto the room facing the staircase. On the floor lay Yusuf's body, his face in a pool of clotting blood. The axe was still in his hand, its blade lodged in the floor. Ali took a closer look, and realized with horror that it had been sunk at the exact spot where he had lain earlier. 'Your friend, Yusuf, I supposed?' 'Right. He's the one.' 'That axe in his hand. Must be the weapon that killed him. Look like bits of brain tissue and lumps of blood on its blade.,' Ibrahim pointed out. Ali said nothing. 'Let's go upstairs,' he said as he led the way up the staircase. Ali, still quite terrified and bewildered, obediently followed. He had no wish to be left all by himself in the darkness downstairs.

They followed a trail of blood that went up the steps, all they way into a dusty, cob-webbed room. The trail ran alongside a line of well defined shoe prints in the coat of dust that lay on the floor, and ended abruptly in the centre of the room before turning back. They obviously belonged to Yusuf. But they were not only prints there. In the centre of the room where they halted, they met a different set of prints. Footprints! Someone else had been there! here too was a pool of coagulating blood. 'This looks like the place where your friend Yusuf was bludgeoned. He seemed to have met someone here,' Ibrahim said in a whisper. 'Who could it be?' Ali asked softly. Before Ibrahim could respond, the torchlight, which had shone so brightly, suddenly went off.

'Hey, what's wrong with this light? I've just changed the batteries,' Ibrahim remarked, surprised. 'Come on. We've got to get out of here.' The pair retraced their footsteps out of the room. As they did, they heard a door creaking somewhere, open or shut they could not tell. They tried to hurry, but the darkness forced them to grope their way to the staircase and down to the floor below. It was one of the scariest walks in Ali's life. That mysterious killer could easily creep up on them under the cover of darkness and bludgeon them with the axe. He could not see a thing in the darkness, and that did not give him any comfort. 

When they reach the floor below, Ali asked Ibrahim to try the torchlight again. Oddly, it shone bright as new. They could see Yusuf still lying face down at the same spot, just like before. But when Ibrahim aimed the light up the step again, it instantly faltered and could not penetrate the dark mist that was now tumbling at the top landing. 'Damn that thing upstairs. What on earth could it be?' he protested with indignation. He pointed the light up again, and again it refused to shine. Frustrated, he pointed the gun up the staircase, but there was nothing he could see to shoot. 'I think we best wait for daylight before making a thorough check of the place. No point going about blindly in this darkness. I'm sure the torchlight is going to go out again every time we point it up there,' he said.

They went out and sat down on the steps below the front door. The sky was brightening up in the east with the approach of dawn. Ibrahim sat with his back resting on a post, facing the door, the gun still in his grip. Ali sat beside him with his eyes closed, thinking about all that he had gone through the night before. He fell asleep as he told himself what a horrible experience the whole thing had been and how he had never gone through anything so weird and frightening in his whole life. It was daylight when Ali woke. The grass and the leaves on the trees and bushes around the place glistened with dew. A thin curtain of mist hung below the trees. A while later, Ibrahim came out of the house. 'Ah, you're up. I've just finished looking over the upper floor. But there's absolutely nothing left,' said Ibrahim.

'What about the prints we saw last night?' asked Ali. 'Everything's gone, those shoeprints and footprints we found upstairs, the trail of blood, even the coat of dust on the floor, everything's been swept clean. Someone must have come last night and cleaned the floor as we sat here.' 'What shall we do now?' 'First of all, we have to bring Yusuf's body to town. Leave everything to me. I'll tell the police he had been killed by persons unknown and that I'd investigate the case myself. We'll come back here tonight and check out the place again. You prepared to come with me?' Ali was taken aback by the question. Given the choice, he would rather flee as far away as he could from the house. But that might just arouse Ibrahim's suspicions. After all, he was the only one around when Yusuf was killed. Reluctantly, he nodded in agreement. 'Help me carry the body into the car, please,' Ibrahim instructed. They went back to the room and carried Yusuf's body to Ibrahim's car and drove off to town.

The sun was setting. Ali was with Ibrahim in the latter's car, cruising along the same road he and Yusuf had taken at about the same time yesterday afternoon. 'Want to hear more about Haji Mahmud?' asked Ibrahim from the driver's seat. Ali nodded. 'Like I told you, they were a bunch of snobs, Haji Mahmud and his family. Always bullying and throwing their weight around. And the way they treated their servants! They used to have more than ten in the mansion, and the family exploited them like slaves. As for the plantation workers, dozens fled because of the shoddy treatment. 'The worst of the lot was Salmah, his younger sister, who became the lord of the house when he died. The plantation workers often saw her beating up the servants till they nearly passed out. It was no surprise they all decided to run off.' 

'One day, Maniseh, Haji Mahmud's youngest daughter, was in town to do the marketing when she complained that all the workers, both the plantation labourers and the servants, had fled. She said even Salmah was missing, nobody knew her whereabouts. It seemed her sisters told her she ran off with a man, but Maniseh somehow believed her aunt was still around. 'A month later, one of Haji Mahmud's former servants came to town and said that Maniseh was now living there all by herself. None of their sisters were around anymore. She said Maniseh was afraid, but having no one to turn to, she had no choice but to live there. She spent every night locked up in her bedroom, leaving all the lights on all through the night.

'Then one night, Maniseh ran into town screaming like a mad woman and collapsed in front of the police station. When she came to, she spoke of having discovered a secret chamber in the house where she found her sisters hanging by ropes tied to the ceiling. And then she said something started chasing her, something wielding an axe and holding a golden glow of light. It almost managed to chop her head off. She did not know how she managed to escape. She was so terrified, she refused to go back. Fortunately, some kind folks took pity on her and gave her shelter. 'A team of policemen and some local residents later went to the house to investigate. They did not find the secret chamber she spoke of, but they did find an axe with its blade lodged at the top landing. Maniseh never returned to the house. After saving up some money, she went away and was never heard of again.' 

'Did they actually believe her story?' asked Ali. 'Many believed Maniseh was really mad, but some think she was telling the truth, and suspected it was the work of the former servants. That's no surprise since they all have a grudge against her and her family. It was believed that one of them was still hiding in the house. 'There used to be a shack close to Haji Mahmud's house where an old man called Pak Mat used to live. He's dead now, but Pak Mat was a master shaman reputed for his powerful black magic. There's a story going round that one of the servants named Fatimah whom Salmah used to mistreat, had sought Pak Mat's black magic to take revenge against her former employer.' 

The sun had almost set when they arrived. Ali felt a chill coming over him as he contemplated spending another night in there. Then, as Ibrahim pulled up by the roadside, something caught his eyes and Ali suddenly grabbed him by the arm. 'Can you see that? Can you see those pigeons flying off the roof?' Ibrahim looked up in the direction he pointed and saw that there was indeed a flock of pigeons scampering away and disappearing from view. 'That's the first time I actually see pigeons here,' he pointed out. Then, almost talking to himself. Ali remarked, 'These birds seem to be an omen of death. Yesterday, Yusuf and I saw them... and Yusuf was killed. Now you and I. Maybe...' 'Nonsense!' came Ibrahim's swift response. Ibrahim took a grass mat, some food and a few other necessities out of the car, and asked Ali to help him bring them into the house. He led the way into the room where they had found Yusuf's body last night.

The house was exactly as it was when they left it. 'Lie down at the same spot where you lay yesterday. I'll bed where Yusuf was,' Ibrahim told Ali. 'Should we light the lantern we brought?' 'No need. If something happens, just use the torchlight I gave you.' They took dinner without much talk. When they finished, Ali spread the mat on the floor and lay down while Ibrahim sat cross legged, checking his gun under the torchlight. As the night progressed, the room soon become so dark, Ali could not see his own hand. Silence descended upon the house and its surroundings. Ali lay still, closing his eyes. His thoughts wandered back to the events of the other night. He still found it difficult to believe what had happened. If it was not for the sake of Yusuf and for the presence of Ibrahim, he would not have returned. Now he was back at the very place where it all happened. He could feel the chill coming over him. He was so scared, he dared not move or leave his place.

He heard Ibrahim lying down and, a little later, breathing steadily as he fell asleep. Ali opened his eyes and saw a needle of moonlight penetrating through a tiny hole in the wall, landing on the staircase where, in his dream last night, he had seen the thing with the golden glow of light lurking. Instinctively he turned his back to the staircase. If he had his way, he would rather get up and flee... yes, flee... far away... far, far away! And now he was running in darkness, not knowing where he was heading. He looked up, and not a single star in the sky. Must be overcast, he told himself. Then he came upon a hill. What hill is this? Ah, no matter... I just want to flee far, far away. he climbed the hill and saw a glow of golden light at the top. Then he heard someone whistling, a lovely tune that wafted in the air like the distant singing of a bamboo flute.

He awoke. As he opened his eyes, he realized he had been walking in his sleep and the hill he was climbing was only the staircase leading to the second floor of the ol house. He was doing exactly what Yusuf had done last night. The whistling grew more and more intense, and more and more appealing. He tried to stop and retreat, but could not resist its pull. The whistling was drawing him upstairs. he tried to prostrate himself on the steps, but failed. he kept going up, drawing closer and closer to the glow of light. He felt like screaming, but nothing came out of his mouth. his feet just kept on going up the stairs, step by step by step. He reached the top landing. The whistling compelled him to go on, right into the room where Yusuf was hacked last night. As he entered, the whistling grew fainter and fainter, and the golden glow of light began coming towards him. Below it was a figure with an awkward gait, and as it drew nearer, Ali saw for the first time that it was a woman of hideous appearance. the eyes were glazed, wide open like the eyelids had been torn out. The face was pale as a corpse and wore frightening grin. Closer and closer she came, glaring at Ali with her fiery eyes. She raised her arms. They were nothing but skin and bones, but in her right hand she held an axe! She swung it over her head, poised to split his head.

Suddenly there was a loud explosion, and the woman slumped on the floor. But only for a second or so. She got up and disappeared in the darkness, giving out a chilling cry. Ali collapsed and blacked out. When he came to, Ibrahim was sponging him with a towel. 'You had a close shave there.' There was a noticeable shudder in his voice. 'I'm alright. Thank God your shot was on target. Otherwise, I would have joined Yusuf by now,' Ali replied. 'Look at this axe. Look at the blade. Who would hone an axe this sharp, unless it's a blood thirsty lunatic?' said Ibrahim. 'Listen!' said Ali. They heard footsteps, unsteady footsteps. Someone was limping away. 'Leave her alone. Her end is near,' said Ibrahim.

'When the whistling came, you went up the staircase and nearly stepped on me along the way. That woke me up. The moment I saw you, I knew you were under a spell, just like Yusuf was last night. So I followed you, all the way until she appeared. God, I almost fainted when I saw her. What a horrid looking creature,' Ibrahim continued as he shone the torchlight about. The light landed on an open door along the wall of the bedroom. 'A secret door. She must have escaped that way. Come on, let's see what's in there. I bet it leads to the secret chamber Maniseh was talking about,' whispered Ibrahim. They went in and found themselves in a narrow corridor leading to a room.

'My God! This is the place I dreamt of last night!' exclaimed a surprised Ali. Ibrahim shone the light about. In the middle of the room, hanging by ropes toed to the ceiling, were three human skeletons, Shreds of clothing were still stuck to their bones. 'So, what Maniseh said when she ran away from the house was true after all,' Ibrahim remarked. The torchlight swung to a corner of the room, and there, lying stiff, was the body of a woman, her face wearing a ghastly grin and her eyes wide open like the eyelids had been torn out. She was no longer human. The teeth were long. Indeed, at both ends of the grinning mouth, she had grown a pair of murderous looking fangs. The fingernails were long and sharp as daggers. Her hair flowed unkempt. The clothes in which she was still clad were tattered and torn. And on the floor, blood had streamed and coagulated.

'Poor Fatimah. This is what she gets for dabbling with sorcery,' Ali remarked. Ibrahim shook his head. 'This isn't Fatimah.' Ali stared at him surprised. 'I reckon Maniseh knew very well who was chasing her when she ran away. Only she was too ashamed to name her. Yes, Fatimah did manage to carry out her evil plans, and she did get her revenge, but not in the way we might assume. The magic potion she got from Pak Mat was not meant to simply kill the intended victim. She must have somehow managed to give to Salmah on the sly, mixed with food and drink I guess. Then as she fled, the potion began working its evil and this was happened to the victim now,' Ibrahim explained. 'If this is not Fatimah, then who is she?' asked Ali impatiently. 'I caught a fleeting sight of her under the golden glow of light as she swung the axe to hack you, and I knew then it wasn't Fatimah. The face has aged, but I could still identify features the reminded me of that picture I saw long ago. 'For your information, that dead body in front of us belongs to Salmah, Maniseh's missing aunt.'