Someone Is Out There

As children, my cousins and I would spend our summers at my grandparents' house in Bhitarkanika, Odisha. One afternoon, we were playing hide-and-seek in the nearby mangrove forests. I was always the first to be found, so I decided to find a better hiding spot.

I ventured deeper into the forest, climbing a large tree with thick branches. From my perch, I noticed a slightly older girl sitting in the highest branches, dangling her feet. Her silver anklets jingled as she swayed back and forth.

Suddenly, I felt a tug on my ponytail. "Who's there?" I asked, turning to see the girl. She was wearing a green frock and had silver anklets. She giggled and introduced herself, offering to show me a better hiding spot.

As we walked through the forest, I noticed that my cousins were nowhere to be found. It was getting late, and it was her turn to hide. Suddenly, I saw one of her anklets lying near a disturbing sight: a skeleton surrounded by bones, dried blood, and clumps of hair. I felt nauseous and called out for her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

I looked up and saw a shadow watching me from the top of the tree where she had been sitting. It resembled an animal, squatting and hooting like an owl. I ran as fast as I could, following a green frock in the distance.

Eventually, I reached my grandparents' house, covered in dirt and sweat. My cousins were worried about me, as I had ventured into a part of the forest where unexplained deaths and disappearances had occurred years ago. A disturbed killer had been caught and killed after kidnapping and murdering several children.

I tried to find the girl with the green frock but eventually gave up. Then, I stumbled upon an old, torn poster of a missing girl near the market street. It sent chills down my spine. I learned that she had been missing for over ten years. It was impossible for her to be alive and playing hide-and-seek in the forest. Did she help and saved me, even though she had been tragically killed herself?

Comments

Interview With The Author Of Bhoota Gappa & 2minhorrorstories

An interview with the author of JustUtter's first ever released horror book series named "Bhoota Gappa". This interview will not only let readers know more about, the origin and inspiration of these horror stories but also the challenges of fear and ruthlessness of the inner soul that unravels the story of the main character "Azagka". Available Now in both paperback and hardcover Watch The Trailer Now!! Why did you write "2minhorrorstories"? As an afternoon ritual back in my childhood days, my grandmother used to always narrate us stories about ghosts, witches, and unexplained incidents from her childhood, youth, to her middle age. Those stories, enabled me to enter into a realm of a parallel dimension, that had some power beyond realism. It created a sense of fear, but at the same time the thrill lingered around for days, turning me into an adventurous soul that pushed my intentions beyond being scared and thus overpowering my inner ...

भूता गप्पा : कमरे के बाहर जो था…(पटना स्टोरीज )

मैं उन दिनों हॉस्टल में दोस्तों के साथ खूब मस्ती किया करता था। कॉलेज के दिन वैसे भी बड़े मज़ेदार होते हैं। दोस्तों का झुंड हमेशा साथ रहता, न समय की परवाह होती, न किसी रोक-टोक की चिंता। बेफिक्री और हँसी के धुएँ से पूरा कैंपस गूंजता रहता। एक रात, हम सब राजू के कमरे में जमा थे। ओल्ड मंक की आखिरी बूंद तक सब कुछ खत्म हो गया। तभी किसी ने कहा, "अरे, मेरे बेड के नीचे एक बोतल है… लेकिन उसके लिए स्टोर रूम से होकर जाना पड़ेगा, जहाँ खिड़कियों से अजीब आवाजें आती हैं।" किसी जूनियर को भेजने की बात चली। मैं पहले थोड़ा हिचकिचाया, फिर हँसते हुए मान गया। "क्या होगा ज़्यादा से ज़्यादा? कोई आवाज़ तो यही लोग निकालेंगे।" जैसे ही मैं निकला, हमारे ग्रुप का एक सीनियर चुपचाप मेरे पीछे हो लिया और दरवाज़े के पीछे छिप गया। जब मैं स्टोर रूम पहुँचा, तो मुस्कुराते हुए पीछे मुड़ा क्योंकि मुझे लगा कोई आवाज़ जरूर लगाएगा। उन दिनों किसी के पास मोबाइल नहीं था। हॉस्टल में जगह-जगह एक-दो लैंडलाइन फोन लगे थे। लेकिन मुझे स्टोर रूम के अंदर से घंटी की आवाज़ सुनाई दी। अजीब बात यह थी कि वहां कभी फोन र...

The Morgue Shift: A Chilling Night at IGH Hospital, Rourkela

There are jobs that demand courage—not just of the body, but of the mind. Being a nurse is one such job, and sometimes, the fear doesn’t come from the diagnosis or the pain—it comes from silence, from shadows, and from the unseen. This is a true account of a night shift I will never forget. Festival Night. Empty Corridors. One Dead Body. It was a festive evening in Rourkela, and most of the hospital staff had taken leave or left early. I was on duty at IGH Hospital as a male nurse. Late at night, I received the responsibility of transporting a deceased patient to the morgue—alone. Usually, someone from the morgue team assists with the process. But that night, there was no one available. I was told a security guard would be present near the morgue to help, if needed. With no other option, I took a stretcher and began the slow, solitary walk through the long, dimly lit hospital corridor. The Eyes in the Dark The hallway was quieter than usual, with only the occasional bark of a dog or a ...

JustUtter 2Min Horror Stories: A Book Series "Bhoota Gappa"

Search This Blog