Superstar: Horn OK Please (10 page)

We must have spent a couple of hours studying the mansion and looking for secret doors all around from the outside and inside till we gave up and sat in the lobby. Maybe, Hound or Derek would help us find it.

A field day:

The cemetery was less than two kilometers from the resort and walking to the place hadn’t been very difficult. Derek had wanted to see if Jenny could walk that far and still be chirpy. It was a long, winding, narrow road to the old cemetery and the locals seemed to avoid it. They said it was a cursed place. The road to the cemetery was lonely and beautiful. Derek and Jenny had been chatting and Jenny had been extremely talkative that day. They had walked for almost an hour before reaching the cemetery.

Strangely enough, Jenny always seemed to feel at home at the cemetery. The entrance looked beautiful and the stone masonry had Derek spellbound. The lush, green forest hid the steeple from afar. Nestled amidst trees, it became visible only when they were about 50 meters away from it. Jenny’s eyes lit up as soon as the steeple came into view. The entrance was grand, the stone masonry was just perfect.

Time stood still as Jenny walked in from the side and Derek followed her. Under the grand steeple at the entrance of the cemetery, the room on one side had a broken lock on the door as Jenny opened it with ease. The room on the other side of the entrance was locked. She’d said that the keepers used to come once in a while and that place had a record of everybody who rested there, all 200 of them. It didn’t seem scary at all during the day.

Just yesterday, when they had come here for the first time, Derek was a little freaked out. Right now, the stone steps leading down to the well at the center of the cemetery looked awesome. Standing at the entrance, Derek noticed that the cemetery had just one path inside that had neatly cut flagstones and had graves on all three sides. Derek concluded then that life was a one-way street. He would now use that line on Jenny to sound deep.

The trees shaded the graves from sun and rain. He noticed the particular grave that had caught their attention last night. There were exactly 23 graves between him and that grave but Derek wasn’t bright enough to notice the number play. The angel stood there, lifelike, with one arm rested on the cross and her head hung low, staring at the grave. The other hand held a wreath. Jenny had stopped him from wandering inside the graveyard, close to the graves. She’d said that it would disturb the dead. They sat there for many hours and talked. Jenny was happy that she had Derek all to herself, away from his friends. She’d said that she would not be able to come to meet him tonight as she felt very sleepy. She hadn’t slept a wink last night.

Derek looked at Jenny sympathetically and held her hand. Jenny rested her head on his strong shoulders and was quiet for some time. It filled his heart with sadness that she knew nothing about all that was happening around her. He’d felt a tinge of sadness then for he hated to feel so helpless. When it came to supernatural stuff, everybody was incapacitated. But he was confident that with the help of Chief, Goose and Hound, they would be able to help get Jenny that one fighting chance against her Doppelganger. He had promised himself then. For him, it was sympathy, not love. But for her, it was true love. But he could never bare his soul the way Hound could. He envied Hound for that.

She’d told him many stories about the dead people in there. If was ironic that each one had the same ending. Jenny had told him how they’d sold their plantations to her great grandpa and how he’d generously made sure that they all had enough money to do what they wished. But after a few months, everybody had mysteriously disappeared and their bodies were found in the plantations, badly mauled by wild dogs. She’d said that it was then that the urban legend about the wolf was born. Everybody had talked about a man-eating beast that resembled a wolf and it was that beast that had killed all 199 of them. Hogwash, she said she didn’t believe it. Neither could Derek.

She’d said that the graveyard was filled with such corpses that had been mauled beyond recognition. It was said the icy cold breath of the devil is what caused them all to die and then the beast chewed them up. She didn’t know the story about that one grave which was out there, the one with the angel resting on the cross. Nobody seemed to know and she couldn’t care less. There were no existing records with the undertaker about that particular grave.

They’d walked back to the resort and they had a shower together. Then they made love. Derek had been rough again. Unfortunately, sex still mattered more to him than Jenny. She had felt hurt and sad about the way he treated her when it came to sex. It was only when he was satiated did he become human again. The truth was Jenny loved Derek more than he loved her. He was being the sympathetic, perpetual machine that Jenny wanted. It was his way of giving. Blinded by lust, he just treated her as any other girl. She was just a muse who was about to die. He was incapable of loving too much. He was the way he was. What she didn’t know was that Derek couldn’t really express himself to woo a girl. That had been his shortcoming.

Jenny’s night…out:

Jenny stepped out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around her. They barely covered her curvy breasts. Shower-wet hair made her look sexy and she knew it. After all, it was this look that had made Derek fall in love with her. She smiled and looked at herself in the mirror. She knew she had the curves at the right place. Maybe, she would have wanted her breasts to be slightly bigger. But that didn’t matter now anymore, Derek had liked what he saw and she did bring out the beast in him. He had told her he’d loved her. Derek Demonia – her dreamboat, her soul mate. Now that she had found him, she could die in peace.

She couldn’t understand what the fuss was all about. She was brave for her mom had asked her to be brave before she went to heaven. Staring at the mirror, she wondered whom she resembled. Did she have curves of her beautiful mommy or did she have the shades of her strong daddy? Hah! She had the best of both worlds. So what did Derek really like about her body that made him go so wild?

The best way to find out would be to stand naked in front of the mirror and see for herself.  She struggled clumsily with the towel for a few seconds before she let it fall on the floor. And then she screamed for help at the top of her voice before passing out. Waist down, she saw a skeleton, pieces of flesh attached to her bones at some places. Fresh blood seemed to trickle down from the mangled remains. The Doppelganger was forming fast…

***
 

CHAPTER SIX

***

***

Roses are red and violets are blue,

She knew the truth now, a dark past she would rue;

There’s something out there, something not real,

The answers lay not in thoughts, but in the way she could feel;

She’d believed love, she’d thought she knew it all,

But strange shadows from the past were waiting to see her fall;

She was on the brink, she was drowning in a sea of pain,

A tornado of souls, so many souls who died in vain;

If there is God, there is also the Devil,

If there is faith on earth, there is also evil;

She would not give in so easily, she was determined to fight,

There was now a reason to live, the end of doom was in sight;

A legend she wished away was her only hope,

She had to overcome her fear, with darkness she must cope;

As an end to her madness, the answer can only be love,

She wanted to live, the strength came from above;

Sometimes, the answers lie outside the boundaries of reason,

She had to find a way, break away from her own prison;

But if smiles and Imagination makes you say ‘Cheese’

Drive on, that’s the spirit of Horn OK Please…

***

The Story of the Great grandpa:

Hound had managed to get Jeremy tell him what he knew about the family history. He’d told him that Jeremy had no right to put his guests’ lives in danger and that he owed them an explanation. He had cornered Jeremy by threatening to leave the place and blog about the horror stories all over the Internet. It was then that Jeremy had agreed to tell him all he knew about his family’s dark history. The threat had worked on him. Hound had managed to make him spit out everything he knew. Jeremy was scared shitless.

He called Hound to his office and told him everything from soup to nuts about the D’Silva family. Settling down on a massive chair, he paused before he said, “I hope you are going to keep this strictly confidential, Hound, for this isn’t something that we’d like the world to know”.

“You have my word, Jeremy, now shoot”, said Hound impatiently, lighting a cigarette.

“It was around 350 years ago. Winston D’Silva, Jenny’s great grandfather, was born to a very poor family. He’s the guy you see in all the portraits. His father, a farmer, owned many pieces of land and had been cheated by the local landlord. His father was driven to penury when the draught hit. Unfortunately, it was a very large family and no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t make ends meet. Winston had an extremely difficult childhood; he was the eldest among seven brothers. When a mysterious illness had struck his village, he watched all of his six siblings die due to lack of medical attention.”

“Nicholas, Walter, Edmund, Henry, Christopher, Bernard, and Winston. The name of the seven suites in the D’Silva dump you call the Mansion of the Gods, right?” said Hound, lashing out at Jeremy for not having told them before.

Jeremy nodded and looked outside the window to see Goose and I staring at the mansion.

“Aren’t those your friends? What are those morons doing outside at this time of the day?” enquired Jeremy, pointing outside the window.

“Ignore them, Jeremy, stick to the story. They know what they’re doing”, said Hound curtly as he took a drag from his cigarette. “I’m the one asking questions around here”.

“Right. So, coming back to the story, when the youngest of the brothers had died, his mother couldn’t bear it anymore and one night, she committed suicide by jumping into the canal. She jumped off the bridge. It’s the same bridge that you cross to come to the mansion. Winston’s father, unable to bear the shame of a failed husband and father lost his senses. He couldn’t bear the loss of his wife and lost his sanity. Now Winston didn’t have anybody to call his family except for his insane father. It made him very bitter. He was hardly 15 years old then”.

Hound listened intently, arms folded, as he sat without moving in the massive couch in Jeremy’s room. That explained why Jenny stood at the railing, at least partly.

Staring at the picture of Winston on the wall, Jeremy’s eyes welled up as he spoke, “Winston then took his father to the landlord to see if he would help them. He hoped that the landlord would take care of his father for having worked in his plantations for many years while Winston would set out to seek his fortune. Instead of helping them, the local landlord murdered his father right in front of his eyes. He said he rid the world of a burden and Winston owed him for that now”.

Jeremy lit up his pipe and kept staring at Winston’s painting on the wall and continued, “Jenny’s father told me that this incident changed Winston forever. The soul of a nice, young lad died when he watched his father die a dog’s death in front of him. First it was his mother and now his father. His siblings had died and Winston became an orphan. It was then that the young Winston decided to leave the village and soon return for revenge. He promised himself that his family would be avenged and the entire community would pay dearly for his losses”.

“So he left the village without doing anything? Nobody helped him?” asked Hound, wondering how people could have been so heartless.

“No, nobody helped him. Winston had seen much as a young boy, he grew up before his time – he was forced to, for life had been very cruel to him. The child within him died that very moment. He vowed to amass wealth at any cost, even if it meant selling his soul to the devil – which is exactly what they say he did. He left the village and went to faraway Goa where he met a rich Portuguese merchant who employed him on his ship. Not that he was a kind soul or any such, but it was strictly for business. He wanted a young hand with no baggage. The merchant had come to India to buy coffee and spices and was on his way to Cambodia before heading back to Portugal. Winston worked for him on his ship as they moved from port to port but his life never seemed to get any better”, replied Jeremy, puffing at his pipe.

Hound felt a tinge of sadness for Winston as he looked at his portrait. No wonder, he looked so malefic. Probably, his evil mentality was a bulwark against all the pain that the society had inflicted upon his soul, but that was no excuse.

“As the story goes, late one night, as they sailed towards Cambodia, Winston saw something very strange. It was a dark, stormy night and only the lamps in his master’s cabin burned. The other crewmembers were fast asleep as the ship was anchored in calm waters. Winston happened to peep through the keyhole of his master’s cabin. It is said that he saw his master praying to the Devil. He watched in awe as his master spoke in a strange language, kneeling on the floor with his head bowed in reverence as the Devil stood in front of him, watching. It looked like he was worshipping a wolf, some kind of a huge beast”, said Jeremy, wide-eyed with fear. His hands trembled as he fought for words. The glass of whiskey slipped from his hands and landed on the wooden floor with a loud bang. 

“What? There was a wolf on the ship and the merchant was praying to the beast? What’s that stuff in that pipe you’re smoking, dude?” sputtered Hound, as he shifted uneasily in his couch. He didn’t believe all the bullshit which Jeremy was spitting out. But somewhere deep within, he knew that he had no other option but to believe in the beast. That was the only way he could save Jenny from her Doppelganger.

“You have to believe me, Hound, the tale is such!” Jeremy picked up the broken glass pieces and continued, “So as the anchored ship gently rocked in the calm night sea, the unlatched door flung open and Winston was thrown inside the cabin. The merchant knew that he was being spied upon and so he beat Winston black and blue for his impudence. But since he was genuinely fond of Winston, he didn’t quite let him die, instead, he chose to tell Winston a secret. A secret that would change Winston’s life forever! Whisky?” said Jeremy, as he reached out to the bottle of single malt that was kept on top of the teak cupboard near the table.

“No thanks, I’m high enough. Keep going”, said Hound as he politely refused a free drink.

“And then the merchant told him how he had met a wizard in the ancient ruins of Angkor near Siem Reap. They say it was in the ruins of the Angkor Wat or the Ta Prohm temple close to it. He took him to his abode near the Tonle Sap river, deep in the jungles of Cambodia, past the floating village where fishermen live. It was a long journey and there are no records of what happened then. Even today, it is said that the locals avoid going to the ruins of the Ta Prohm temple after sunset”, said Jeremy, expecting a reaction from Hound. Hound looked him straight in the eye, showing no signs of emotions. His look told Jeremy that he must continue with the tale. Hound meant business.

“The Portuguese merchant, Winston’s master told him that there was a very powerful sorcerer known as the Wolfman, of whom he’d heard many strange tales. He had the powers to bestow unlimited wealth upon anyone who would do his bidding. But to get the favors of the Wolfman, one had to carry a full sack of gold. It is said that the Wolfman should not be called, it is he who shall choose to appear to you” said Jeremy, going for a refill. He was reminded of the windy evening when he had heard the saga from the D’Silva family. The thunderstorm was intense and it caused a huge destruction that night. Maybe, it was the Wolfman who had come to visit the place where his secret was being unfolded.

“So what did the Wolfman do to the merchant? What did he give him? What did he ask for in return? Just gold?” Hound rubbed his chin as he tried to make sense of the fantastic tale.

“Nobody knows. Once the Wolfman had appeared before the merchant and taken his gold, he said that he took him to his hut. After that, the merchant remembered nothing. But he had the power to get rich. The secret, he boasted, had made the merchant very rich. He then dangled a bag of gold in front of the young and reckless Winston. Big mistake. The merchant told him that he was going to Angkor Thom in Siem Reap again to meet the Wolfman. He was confident that he would meet him in one of the ruins – Prea Khan, Ta Prohm, Ankor Thom, Angkor Wat, Kbal Speak, Bantey Srei or somewhere. The greedy merchant wanted more powers”, said Jeremy, as he held his head with both his hands.

“Why? Why should that be a mistake? It’s pure business, isn’t it?” said Hound, wondering if Jeremy was hyperventilating. He sat back for a minute and tried to put the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle together. But he could find no reason for Jeremy to call it a mistake.

“No! It was a big mistake! The young Winston had just heard what he needed to hear. Something inside him snapped and he knew what he had to do. He grabbed his master’s knife and slit his master’s throat. The merchant died instantly and Winston escaped with the bag of gold. He now had plans of his own. Greed and evil was slowly taking control of him. Winston stealthily vanished from the ship and went straight to Siem Reap…”, Jeremy’s voice was trailing off.

“And pretty soon, he would soon find the Wolfman somewhere at Angkor, who would take his bag of gold and take Winston to the deep jungles of Cambodia near the Tonle Sap river….and Winston wouldn’t remember a thing. Right?” said Hound, hoping that he got the story to the point where it mattered. There was something brewing inside Hound’s head. He was trying to find a clue in his words.

“Exactly! What happened out there is not known, but after a few years, a very wealthy Winston returned to India with his newly wed Khmer wife and started buying all the plantation land. In 10 years, Winston had bought every piece of land in the region, as far as the eye could see. It is said that original landlord disappeared overnight and had died a very horrible death. It was then the cemetery was built”, said Jeremy, pointing in the direction of the old cemetery.

It was all making sense. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together in Hound’s mind, just that the pieces at the center were missing.

“It is said that since then, Winston possessed powers to make anyone do what he pleased. Soon, he became the undisputed master of the same community where he was once treated as a slave. The village where his family died in penury was now his kingdom. Every one of the farmers in the region had willingly sold his piece of plantation land to Winston. As far as the eye can see, everything belonged to Winston. Now it belongs to Jenny….if she lives”, said Jeremy, one hand pointing towards the window and the other one pointing towards the portrait of Winston.

Hound stared at Jeremy, wondering if the whisky was hitting him. But Jeremy was on a roll as he continued to spill the beans, “Winston had come back to India to seek revenge on the local community. He used his secret powers to buy back all his land from anybody who owed a piece of it. Some people even go to the extent of saying that he had the power to turn everybody into his slave. It is whispered that he was the master of dark arts, the magic he used to have them killed once they’d signed the deed. It is said that they even brought back the gold and returned it to Winston.”

“And did Winston build the canal? And the bridge we crossed over to come to this mansion?” asked Hound, without looking up as he scribbled his notes in his notepad. This was indeed something very deep and gory which was beyond the realm of normal human imagination.

“That’s right. He’s the man. He also built this mansion, said it was a gift to his family. Then his wife gave birth to a beautiful young girl. They used to get married pretty early back in those days. When she turned 23, she died under mysterious circumstances. But we know, it was her Doppelganger who killed her”, said Jeremy in a whisper.

“And what happened to Winston?”, questioned Hound, as he played with his pen.

“Nothing. He was heartbroken. Distraught. He had got the best doctors from all over the world but nobody could help his wife. A few years later, Winston’s daughter, Nancy – Jenny’s grandma, got married at the age of 18. Within a year she delivered a beautiful baby girl. They named her Wilma, who was Jenny’s mother. She was a beautiful woman”, said Jeremy, as he broke out into a silent smile, betraying his obvious crush on her.

“And then when Nancy turned 23, her Doppelganger killed her. The same fate was met by Wilma, the day she turned 23. Is that right?” Hound continued to search answers for his questions while he furiously took notes in his notepad.

“Spot on! You’re a smart man, Hound, you’re not as dumb as you look. Whisky?” said Jeremy, as he filled his glass yet again.

“No thanks. But was Winston alive when Wilma was born?” asked Hound, scratching his head as he tried to look for clues to save Jenny.

“Ah! Evil doesn’t die so easy. But by then, Winston had grown old and he probably understood the price he had to pay for his greed and revenge. He stopped talking to anyone. He became a recluse. He would either spend time in room number seven – the suite you know as Winston - praying, or he just used to simply disappear for days. Nobody knew where he used to go, but he used to come back, just like that! Even when the doors of the house were locked from inside when he disappeared, he would be found walking inside the house all of a sudden. It remains a mystery”, said Jeremy, throwing up his hands in bewilderment.