Aman didn’t want to go on such an odd time of the day. But the unusual death of his childhood friend Das and the still unsolved mystery surrounding the ripped blade on the lonely stone house aroused the curios Sherlock Holmes in him. Aman, a 21 yr old lad pursuing his college was on vacation to his home town, a village near the slopes of the Western Ghats. Das was his childhood palymate and a close friend of his. The death of him had affected Aman greatly and in fact he was determined to solve the mystery behind those weird stories.
The sun started to slowly hide behind the evening clouds. Night began to fall rapidly. As Aman was strolling through the woods, he was thinking of the wonderful days he had with Das. The wind began to whistle like a pack of howling wolves on the moonlight. He followed the narrow path through the graveyard. He trudged through the tuff and crackling brown autumn leaves. There at a distance he could see the old house, with its wildly overgrown garden. To him, in the moonlight it looked like a perfect haunted house that he has heard n seen on movies.
The screeching sound of the owls and the bats drew him near the secretive house that he is bound to investigate. The terrifying old metal gate creaked without oil as it swinged back and forth in the wind. Aman was bold enough to enter this house in the determination to uncover the stories it hosts. He didn’t understand one thing about the mystery. How come a small and simple blade could cause such curse? He had heard about this super naturally cursed, ripped blade from the villagers.
As soon as anyone touches the blade, it cuts them sharp and victim has exactly 10 days left to live. The doomed few appear to be ordinary people during day to day life. But when photographed, they look shrunken. They feel like golden fish when touched. Thus goes the curse of our ripped blade.
As his friend Das, Aman was not prepared to believe all these. The only mystery to him was, why did Das go all alone when they had planned to visit together?. Juggling all these in mind, Aman started to investigate the house. By then he had reached near the stairs.
He cringed at each creak on the old wraped stairs, but it didn’t sway his determination to make it to the first floor. After searching the dusty, cobwebbed floor he descended the stairs. Halfway down, a shadow flickered at corner of his vision. He froze, as he stood there, he caught an unusual fishy scent lingering in the air. A shiver curled through the hairs on the back of his neck and cascaded down his backbone. The only sound familiar to him now was his own heartbeat which he felt as though it was about to come out through his chest.
He began to whistle to take of his mind from the eerie atmosphere. His whistles were shaky and trembled in spite of his prior expectations. Making up his mind, Aman started his search for the ripped blade. He looked around, searching every nook and corner. At the back of his mind, he couldn’t forget either the shadows or the eerie noises. He looked every five seconds turning his head for some kind of hint.
Aman continued his search around the house , kicking up more dust. He came to a door, faded green, paint curling with age, brass handle almost consumed by thick network of cobwebs. Reaching out, he turned it and there lay the cursed ripped blade amidst the dusty, old newspapers on the cupboard. It was laying on top as if inviting him to touch it. He purposely gets hold of it to find out what happens to him refusing to believe the superstitions surrounding it and of course to solve the mystery behind his friend’s death.
No sooner he touched and bruised himself with the cursed blade, a collage of images flashed into his mind.
A dirty rabbit balancing on the scary woodcutter Das; an old newspaper headline about a fang accident; a hooded frog ranting with wild gestures on fingers; a drinking well located in a derelict place.
Aman was confused and shocked. He felt a kind of dizziness and he strolled back way home heavy and tired.
The next day, Aman noticed that there were spots on his body which was like goldfish skin. He was taken aback. He quickly photographed himself with his mobile. To his horror, he looked shrunk in the snap. It was bloodcurdling to him. Finally he too had fallen for the curse and started to slightly doubt about the existence of the real curse!.
In a state of cat on the wall, Aman slowly told his experiences to his grandfather Ramdev seeking his help. Ramdev too doesn’t believe the story surrounding the blade. But when his own grandson was affected by it, he was at sixes and sevens.
He finally decided to take risk and willingly submitted himself to the curse. To his terror,he finds that the smae visions flash before his eyes too. The flash of the fang accident was particularly very chilling for him as it looked like the same accident where Das’s body was found.
And now, Ramdev too joins in the queue for a supernatural death. With mere 10 days left to live, the duos pursue a quest to uncover the meaning of the visions, starting with the search of the hooded frog.
(stay hooked …)