Superstar: Horn OK Please (5 page)

The other end of the passage led to the Crystal Room, which was the dining area, followed by the green house, recreation room and the bar, finally opening into a clearing which had a big, covered swimming pool.

We were told that this was the entrance that overlooked lush green meadows, the golf course and the plantations. This was also the southern entrance that overlooked the cemetery. Of course, Jeremy must have conveniently forgotten to tell us that.

Climbing up the creaking stairs, I realized that we had the first four suites reserved for us. We cared a hang about their names. Room numbers 1, 2, 3 and 4 were simple enough for morons like us to understand.

I’d heard Jeremy mention a doctor and a teacher to be checking in within a couple of days. They would be occupying the other two suites. I wondered what they would look like. Sexy and gorgeous, I hoped.

The seventh room, of course, was downstairs. It was locked. The Suite room, Winston, was supposedly inaccessible to us mere mortals who had the audacity to walk in mistakenly. After all, this was the Mansions of the Gods where morons would be mere intruders.

Hound and I were on one side of the floor; they called it the ‘wing’. Derek and Goose’s suites were on the adjacent wing. The central wing overlooked the lobby.

Chief’s Suite:

It was 11:45 PM when I wished Goose goodnight and hesitantly entered my room. It was a huge, spacious room with an attached bathroom. There was a comfortable, four-poster bed on one end and a beautifully crafted writing table on the other with a chair that had exquisite floral carvings on it.

The carvings on the chair, table and the bed all had a strange flower carved on them. The same carvings were there on the furniture downstairs in the lounge, lobby and the Crystal room. There was a large sofa set at the corner of the room that opened out into a large balcony.

A beautiful metallic wind chime hung from the ceiling just at the entrance of the balcony. It was made up of small metallic parrots coloured in red, green and yellow. Attached to the parrots were golden bells. It resonated a sweet sound each time the breeze made a visit to the room.

On the writing table was a beautifully sculptured flagon. It was painted in brilliant purple adorned with green gems which matched with the upholstery of the chair and the couch. The moment I opened the lid, a soothing smell of lemon wafted through the room.

It filled me with joy to find my favorite incense miles away from Ladakh. To the side of the bed was a small lamp which was lit up by scented candle. The room smelt real fresh. 

The huge French windows had beautiful, maroon shades hanging from golden drapery rods. It was typical colonial lavishness all around. There were many lamps in the room.

Unfortunately, a miniature painting of Jenny’s great grandpa – an exact replica of the one above the fireplace, overlooked the bed. It freaked me out. He was an ugly man. I felt glad that Jenny had managed to escape the wrath of his ugly genes.

I took off my t-shirt and carefully covered the garish portrait with it. The narcissistic bastard had pooped out his paintings all across his love nest.

My room was neighboring Hound’s room. The balcony overlooked the swimming pool and of course, the cemetery. The pool was entirely lit up which made it look divine. The crystal clear water boasted of its transparency as it displayed the turquoise blue tiles placed at the bottom of the swimming pool.

In the middle of the pool was a small artificial island that looked green with the fern plant pots placed in a circular manner. Amidst the fern plants was a fountain that gushed out as the water took various shapes. A faint blue light was focused on the running water, it made me feel as if the pool were bleeding blue.

I looked at my watch. It was exactly 11:55 PM. I needed a quick shower before I hit the sack. It had been a very long day indeed. I turned on the stereo making sure I listened to Beethoven draped in lemon grass scent that night to calm my frayed nerves.

I filled my bathtub with hot water, grabbed a can of Redbull; took off my clothes and slipped in. The chill from the cold evening had seeped to the bone. I kept the washbasin tap on, just to hear the sound of flowing water.

And then I closed my eyes as I let the hot, salted water soothe my tired body.

The time had finally come for my annual bath. I was feeling relaxed. It was a ritual I chose to indulge in once every year, no more, no less. As the warm water gently blanketed me, it opened up numerous pores, both physically and mentally. I was feeling calm and happy.

Suddenly, the music stopped playing and I woke up. I could hear a wolf howling in the dead of night, somewhere far away. It must have been close to midnight when I opened my eyes after a few minutes of a good snooze, my blood froze in horror.

The lamps in the bathroom were flickering and made a strange crackling sound, as though they were about to explode. The water in my tub had turned red and was overflowing. I was submerged in a pool of blood. I tried to scream but I couldn’t.

The washbasin was overflowing. Blood overflowed from the basin and covered the floor. The bathroom mirror had turned misty. Inside the mirror was a young woman in black staring at me angrily.

She was drenched and her hair covered her face, I couldn’t see clearly what she looked like, but it looked exactly like Jenny. She was wearing a black dress. The look in her eyes was evil. I say that for her eyes were black and they had no pupils, darker than death itself.

Then those black eyes turned red and started to burn like fire. They burned like the wolf’s eyes – the wolf we had seen at the junction. She was grinning at me. The apparition flickered on the mirror and disappeared. The lamps stabilized.

I could feel goose bumps all over my body. I tried to run but I felt paralyzed. My entire body turned numb as my heart thumped against my chest like a heavy hammer. I could see death breathing down my neck.

I didn’t even have the audacity to scream. It was as if something heavy had descended in the bathroom, it felt difficult to breathe. It took some time for me to regain my composure after which there was no looking back into the spooky bathroom.

I sprang out of the tub, drained it and closed the tab. I took a few bottles of mineral water from the refrigerator and cleaned myself.

I scrubbed like crazy that night; it left me a few scratch marks. I promised myself that for a month I wouldn’t bathe again till I got out of this spooky mansion.

It took me a while and a few shots of single malt Scotch to calm down before I knocked myself off to sleep with the lights on, wondering who she was.

Did I just have a crazy nightmare? Maybe, I just imagined that because I was too exhausted. After all, ghosts and apparitions are supposed to be a figment of one’s imagination.

But the incident shook me up completely that night.

Goose’s Suite:

Goose walked into his suite and threw his rucksack on the bed and kicked out his shoes. He was too tired to explore what the room looked like. The only thing that beguiled him in the Spartan room was the four-poster bed adorned with floral linen and a soft mattress.

He looked at his watch and was happy to note that the day was about to end in 15 minutes. He took off his bag that contained his tripod and camera equipment and lay it down carefully on the comfortable couch beside the balcony.

It was expensive stuff and he’d gone broke trying to pay the installments for the filters.

The same miniature of the ugly portrait downstairs stared him in the face. It was in his room as well. Fine, he couldn’t do anything about the painting above the fireplace, but surely he could take matters into his own hands in his suite room.

He hated that ugly painting of Jenny’s great grandpa on the wall. He went to the bathroom, grabbed a towel and covered it up. He took a step back to admire his contribution to the portrait. He was quite pleased with his job.

Pushing the heavy curtains aside to get to the balcony, he opened the doors. The cool, midnight breeze wafted in and he took in the damp, fresh air for some time, trying to see if he could see anything in the dark moonless night.

He patted himself down, hunting for his pack of cigarettes. “Hell, it’s in my rucksack”, he grumbled and walked towards the bed. As the cool, night breeze gushed into the room, Goose fumbled trying to open the rucksack before he succeeded in finding his pack of cigarettes.

Having found the packet, he went across to the study table to pick up the lighter kept on top of the ashtray.

While Goose was busy doing this with his back turned to the open balcony door, a shadow silently slithered into the room and slid across the floor, right under the bed.

The midnight air was nippy. Goose realized he felt cold as he lit up his cigarette. Picking up the ashtray, he walked across to the balcony door and locked it shut and pulled the curtains.

He was drenched to the bone today and decided not to have a bath. Slipping into his favorite t-shirt and shorts, Goose used the towel from the bathroom to dry his hair.

He briefly remembered his butt-towel that he had to part with to keep Jenny from catching a cold. He sat on the bed and pulled out his socks. Using the towel to clean his smelly feet, with the cigarette in his mouth, he placed the ashtray on the bedside table. 

He took a deep puff and carefully placed the cigarette on the ashtray and closed his eyes to calm down. It had been a hard day for everybody. The place gave him the creeps and he didn’t like it one bit.

Goose opened his eyes and looked at the covered painting on the wall from his four-poster bed, he quickly shut his eyes again and made up his mind to yank the freaky portrait off the wall before going to sleep. He felt that he needed a nap.

He was too tired to sleep anyway. The cigarette burned on the ashtray as Goose took a quick shut-eye for a few minutes. He continued to hum a lullaby as he closed his eyes. 

The smell of smoke suffocated Goose and he immediately woke up. When he opened his eyes, he saw that his room was in flames. His blood froze.

The table was burning with flames that leaped from the floor. His bed was on fire as well. The shades on the balcony burned menacingly as orange flames burned the couch. Goose looked around in horror as the towel burned and fell to the ground.

However, the painting on the wall was not burning, but the eyes of Jenny’s great grandpa were blood red and shining through the merciless flames. As Goose choked and gasped for breath, covering his face with his handkerchief, a flickering apparition of a drenched young woman in black appeared to be suspended in mid-air right by the bedside.

The apparition looked like Jenny. It was howling in pain as though the fire was burning her up.

Goose tried to scream for help but he couldn’t.

Just when Goose was about to pass out, the world around him started to go black, the flames got sucked back into the floor as if by magic and the howling, flickering apparition disappeared.

Within a few seconds, everything was back to normal and the painting stared at him plainly as though nothing had happened. He lay on the bed for some time, rooted to the spot. He was drenched in sweat. He was freaked out.

He looked at the watch, it was 11:55 PM. The day was not yet over. He could not sleep.

With trembling hands, Goose reached for the pack of cigarettes and picked up the lighter. He stared at it with shivering hands for a while before keeping it down.

He couldn’t bear to see fire again that night.

Derek’s Suite:

Derek had entered his room and took a quick shower after settling down. He felt good after the bath with the lavender soap. He smelt good and felt relaxed. He patted himself dry with a towel and walked across to the study table to see if his cellphone could catch the signal.

No such luck as he set an alarm for 5:00 AM. It was 11:45 PM now and he could do with a good night’s rest. Crossing over from Goa down to deep South in a day had been a piece of cake.