Hungry Horror

Hungry - The Horror Story By 

Raghavendra Paramesh (JustUtter Reader)

*  An imagination never unfolded, no resemblance with any true relevance. This story is purely fictional. 

It was late, and I was exhausted from a grueling day of back-to-back meetings, endless discussions that led nowhere, and the usual blame games. When I entered the house, something felt off. The place was a mess—sweaty, dirty clothes were strewn everywhere. I didn’t care much about it, then I suddenly realized I hadn’t locked my car, so I peered through the window, hearing the faint "tink tink" of the remote as I locked it in the rain.

I tossed my bag into the corner and let my body collapse onto the bed. After downing a glass of water, I grabbed my phone to check for messages. There was a missed call from my flatmate, Vijay. He’d gone to his hometown today, probably enjoying his parents’ care and home food. My eyes were heavy, and once I set my phone on the table, I fell into a deep, much-needed sleep.

But it didn’t last long. Restlessness took over. I tossed and turned, trying to find the right position, but something felt wrong. I got up and went to the bathroom. After relieving myself, I washed my face. Suddenly, the bathroom door slammed shut. An eerie sound echoed from above. Slowly, I looked up at the ceiling and saw a man crouching in the corner, poised to jump down. His face was completely distorted and bleeding. I could barely recognize that it was Vijay. 

The lights flickered off, and I heard a thud as something landed behind me. Cold hands gripped my shoulders, turning me violently. "Ohhh... faaa!" I gasped as I jolted awake, my breath caught in my throat. It was just a nightmare, but a horrible one. My phone read 1:12 AM. I pulled the blanket over my head, trying to shut out the fear.

Sleep eluded me. In an attempt to calm my nerves, I plugged in my earbuds and played the Hanuman Chalisa. Staring around the room, I finally drifted off, but not for long. I was startled awake by the sound of Vijay's voice calling me from the door. Confused, I thought he might’ve returned home, but why so late? I hesitated, I thought why am I still single, atleast would have a supporting hand. The knocks grew louder, urging me to investigate.

I grabbed a bat from the corner and crept to the door. When I opened it, no one was there. But then, a low growl echoed from my room. I turned back to see a shadow— something twelve feet tall, bent and creeping toward me. The growl intensified. My mind screamed Run

I sprinted for the door, only to come face-to-face with a monstrous version of Vijay. His head, grotesquely oversized, filled the entire doorway as he tried to squeeze through. Paralyzed, I swung the bat at him, but it made no difference. Another hand, massive and disfigured, reached for me from the archway. I stumbled over spilled water on the floor and fell. I woke up, gasping. Another nightmare.

At that moment, it hit me—I knew what was going on. My body was rebelling. I hadn’t eaten dinner because of work, and my stomach had been torturing me all night. I dashed to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets. The only thing I could find was milk. I gulped down two Snickers bars and a large cup of tea. Finally, my stomach was content, and my mind relaxed. "Amma always said, 'Never sleep on an empty stomach.' Turns out, she was right," I muttered, chuckling to myself. Feeling lighter, I lay on the couch and fell into the deepest sleep I’d had in days.

The morning sunlight streamed through the window, waking me up. Refreshed, I turned on the radio and wandered around the house. Something nagged at me, though—Vijay’s room was locked. Odd, since he never locked it unless he was inside. Curiosity got the better of me. I opened the door. And there he was, hanging from the fan.

*will be featured as part or "Bhoota Gappa" book series Part 2