The Night Visitor

Roy was shipping his tea in the morning, still thinking about the incident happened the previous night. The first knock came around 12.30 mid night, jolting him awake with a sudden shock. He thought that it was his imagination.

Then it came again.

The second knock on the door. Slow, heavy, and unmistakably real. Not imagination.

“Who are you? ‘What do you want?’ he demanded, his voice cutting through the silence.

He grabbed his flashlight, switched on the hall light, opened the main door, and stepped outside

It was pitch dark.

The night was alive with a sharp, constant hum of insects, making the silence feel even more unnatural…. More suffocating.

“who are you?” he called again.

No reply.

Only the eerie chorus of the night answered him. He walked around the house. But there was no one. No shadow. No movement.

It is a misty hill country with beautiful scenic tea estates, vegetable plantations, and patches of forest. At last, Roy found his dreamland.

Roy leased out the land with the house from a local landowner. His idea was to grow roses and anthurium flowers and supply them to the flower shops in the city.

Life was blissful at the beginning. The flower garden flourished, the house felt calm and peaceful, and the breathtaking scenery kept his mind and soul calm. The only sign of life was the occasionally blinking light from faraway houses and the rumble of a motorcycle or tractor on the narrow, unlit road at night.

Everything was perfect until last night, when the peace collapsed.

Simon, the garden helper, arrived while Roy was shipping his tea.

‘Good morning, Simon,’ Roy greeted him.

“Good morning,” Simon replied

He told Simon what happened the previous night.

‘ I am thinking of filing a complaint at the police station. Someone was here, and I think he was hiding in the woods,” Roy said.

Simon was quiet for a moment, then said, ‘ This is a well-known haunted house in this area.’

“What are you talking about? “ asked Roy.

‘Yes?’ Simon said. ‘This land and the house were owned by Daniel and his brother Morgan. One day, Morgan was attacked by a wild boar. By the time they reached the hospital, he was dead. Since that day, the local villages say they have seen his spirit at night.’

Roy had heard stories of this kind. “I will find out soon” he thought.

By 8 o’clock at night. Roy was watching a musical program on TV. Then he sensed movement outside through the glass window. Something was definitely there. Something was testing him from outside. He look straight ahead, then he realized that the movement was not passing by…. It was standing still, watching him. He switched on the entrance light, opened the door. Nothing.

Something dragged Roy out of sleep at around 12.30 in the dead of night.

“thud… thud….” Footsteps. Someone was walking around the house. The sound grew louder, now approaching his room, and then it stopped right by his bedroom window.

Roy got up quietly, went near the glass window, and looked outside. Through the window, illuminated by the moonlight, he saw it. His blood frozed in fear. He was sweating and speechless, his body refused to move. A chill ran down his spine. The air grew icy, and Roy could see his breath forming white clouds.

A dark figure was standing. Perfectly still. Unnaturally still. And then, before his eyes, the figure vanished.

“Who is that man roaming at night? If he is a thief, then he would be careful with his steps. What about the hunters and trappers?” Roy wondered while shipping his coffee in the morning.

He called his friend Allen and told him what had happened the previous night. Allen promised him that he would pay a visit to Roy’s house that night, along with another friend, Sam.

Roy had cooked rice, vegetable curry, and roasted chicken for dinner, and it was laid out on the dining table. Sam couldn’t make it because he had to attend to an emergency with his parents.

Suddenly, a hand came in through the open window, and the voice said “Can I have a piece of chicken?” And the hand withdrew immediately. Its skin was pale.

Roy shouted towards the window, “ Hey, Sam, come in without fooling around.” He thought it was his other friend, Sam, playing a prank.

“Roy…’ Allen whispered, his voice shaking. His hands trembled , eyes fixed in horror. Look…..the distance…. between the window and the food plate…. . Six feet… ”.

Only then did it strike Roy. “That is not possible;…..’ he said, his voice trembling.

A heavy silence swallowed the hall. Neither of them dared to speak again. With a suffocating stillness , both of them felt that they were no longer alone.

It was about 12.30 midnight. Both friends were fast asleep. Something made Allen wake up. He listened carefully. “tuk….Tuk…” Someone was tapping on the door. Once again “ Tuk… Tuk…” It was very clear now. Allen shook Roy awake. “Someone’s…. knocking…..” he whispered. The knock came again. Louder and more insistent.

Roy sat up abruptly , his face tightening with anger more that fear. ‘ I want to finish this problem today.’ Roy rushed to the hall, followed by Allen. He switched on the light and then the entrance light. Roy grabbed a bat in his hand, flung open the front door, and stepped outside.

“ Who the hell are you?’ he shouted into the night. “ Show yourself, you fool!”

There was no sound except the noise of insects. An eerie silence hung outside.

“Roy… Allen’s voice trembled. Look….. the Star fruit tree…”

Roy turned slowly.

Under the tree, something was standing .

At first, it looked like a man. Tall. Still. Watching them. Its shape didn’t seem to hold steady, as if it didn’t fully belong there. The moon light touched it, yet no clear face appeared .

Neither of them spoke . They couldn’t .

Their bodies went cold, breath turning shallow, as an invisible weight pressed down on them. A sharp chill ran through their bone.

The shadow moved.

Not walking… not running…

But gliding silently toward them.

The air turned freezing cold.

Roy tried to step back—but his legs wouldn’t move.

Allen let out a faint whisper, “It’s coming…”

The figure stopped just a few feet away.

And for the first time—

A face appeared.

Pale.

Hollow.

Smiling.

Then everything went black.