August 2nd, 2011
We were playing cricket that afternoon—me and my new group of friends.
"Zubair, play harder! We've only got 12 runs to win. We can't afford to lose anymore!" I shouted from the sidelines.
Zubair flashed his usual grin. "Have some faith, bro. 12 runs from 3 balls is child's play. I once made 12 in just two balls. Easy!"
The bowler came charging in. Zubair missed the first one but slammed the next for a six.
Now it came down to one ball, six runs. Everyone's breath hung in the air.
"Aha! Still not hard," Zubair laughed, eyes full of confidence. "I'll just score 12 runs in one ball!"
The bowler gave it everything he had.
CRACK!
SIX!!!
Zubair sent the ball flying—probably the biggest six any of us had ever seen. We all exploded in cheers.
We won the match, but now came the harder part: finding the ball.
A few classmates saw where it landed. Apparently, it fell near an open manhole.
We scattered around, searching. Then—someone screamed.
At first, we thought it was a joke. But the fear in his voice silenced us. Something was wrong.
We all ran to the spot, and what we saw… was something I'll never forget.
It was a body.
Rotten.
Wearing our school uniform.
You could see the bones.
The smell… it wasn't just death. It was something that stuck to your skin, like it wanted to haunt you forever.
Some of us ran. Others froze.
I couldn't move. Just stood there, hollow. Thankfully, Bappi was beside me—one of the few classmates I actually liked.
Someone ran to call the school guard—the old man who practically lived on campus. He had a small house just behind the school building, given to him by the principal.
The guard called the police.
Later, they identified the body. It was Hassan. A 7th-grade student. Missing for two months.
Missing even before Onni.
Now the chaos doubled. Two girls had gone missing during Eid vacation just two weeks ago, and now—this.
Parents wanted to pull their children out. Teachers were panicking. The school board was desperate.
So the principal made a decision: School would be shut down for two weeks. From August 4 to August 18.
The police were already given information about all the students and teachers, but clearly—they hadn't been thorough.
The news of the dead body hit the local papers. Things got real.
Police started visiting homes. Questioning everyone.
"Did you know Hassan?" the officer asked me, calm but direct.
"Not really. I mean, yeah, we were in the same school, but he wasn't my friend," I replied honestly.
Then I added, "He bullied me once. Had this rude attitude. I stayed away from him. I'm not into fights or anything. Maybe karma caught up to him—ah, sorry, that came out wrong. Just feels like he got mixed up in something way too dark."
The officer paused. "You're the first one to say that. All his friends said he was a 'nice guy.' One even cried for him."
He smiled faintly. "Guess we all have two sides. Thanks, Walid. That helped." Then he left.
Later, a friend asked me, "Hey, did the police visit your house too?"
"Yeah," I said. "They asked me tons of stuff. I told them the truth. Hassan was a jerk."
The next few days were strange. Even with school shut down, we still hung out—mostly in the playground, trying to forget what we saw.
"At least we can still play cricket," Zubair said. "Something normal."
But then…
"Oi! The school guard's telling us to leave the field," Zubair called out.
"Why? We're not even inside the building!" Bappi muttered. "I'm not leaving. Walid, you with me?"
I nodded. I liked Bappi. And honestly, I didn't want to go home either.
"Everyone else, act like we left. We'll go later," Bappi said.
After a while, the playground emptied.
"It's just you and me now, Walid," Bappi said. "Look—he's locking the gates. Wonder what he does alone here all day…?"
We were curious. Too curious.
"You know the rumors," I whispered. "They say he drinks every day once everyone's gone."
"Oh yeah? Let's find out for real," Bappi grinned.
We snuck around to the back of the building—toward the little house the guard lived in.
"There it is," Bappi whispered. "Door's closed. But… do you hear that?"
I didn't.
But then—yes.
A strange sound.
Something slicing.
Something wet.
We crept closer.
"There's a hole in the wall," I said. "Help me up."
Bappi boosted me up. I peeked through.
And what I saw…
I screamed.
"BLOOD!!!"
"Shut up, idiot!" Bappi hissed. "He'll hear you!"
We ran. Over the wall. Away from the school.
Bappi caught up. "What the hell did you see?! Animal slaughter? What?"
I couldn't speak.
"Walid, say something!"
"I saw… I saw…"
I was trembling.
"He wasn't butchering an animal, Bappi. It was… it was a person."
Bappi stared.
"He was cutting someone up. Like it was nothing. Smiling. Drinking their blood. I'm not lying, Bappi."
"No way… that can't be real…"
"He broke the bones. Like it was chicken. He… enjoyed it."
I was crying now. From fear. From horror.
"We need to tell someone—now!" I gasped.
But Bappi slapped me.
"Are you insane? This isn't a horror movie! We're kids! Who's gonna believe us?"
I stared back. Silent.
Bappi's face changed. The fear hit him too.
"Okay… okay… let's talk tomorrow. Don't tell anyone yet. We'll think this through."
To be continued…