I was in a dilemma. I walked back and forth to reduce my
uncomfortable feeling. I took deep breath several times and exhaled hard.
Tommy, my program director looked at me. I looked away.
"Hey, Hermione, what has been bothering you? You're
getting on my nerve if you keep walking back and forth. " Tommy yelled at
me.
I stared at him blankly. How could I tell him? I stopped
making step noise and stood next to the glass window. I hurriedly looked away
as soon as I remembered what made me feel this way. Ron and Clau, two listeners
of my Creepy Program in Azoth radio would come to visit me. It sounded casual
when listeners wanted to meet their favorite broadcaster. The problem was just
they always thought that I loved the program I had. I would ask you question,
would you like listening to horror stories at night, Thursday night for two
hours? I would give you my whole salary for you if you answered yes. For the
last 6 months, I had been in charge of this program, after the previous
broadcaster got ill strangely.
Ron and Clau always thought I made the stories myself. Well,
I never did. It was all just from the movies I watched. Those movies always gave me goosebumps that
no one knew. I even often got nightmares after work. Ron and Clau were great
fans that only by phone rings I could feel that they would they tell the
horrible stories. Their-about-showing-up in front of me was the one that put me
on fire.
***
Finally we had the deal to meet in foodstall somewhere nearby
before my program started at 22. I put my jeans and short T shirt plus jacket.
I put on the hood under the helmet. I got there at 20, two hours before Creepy
Program started. The place was a bit quiet. It seemed that dinner time was over
or perhaps the drizlling made people think twice to eat out. My cell phone
vibrated.
"Wait for me on the patio. Don't worry of dim light. It
would be romantic for three of us", told a message from Ron. I shook my
head. How could they choose that place since the location was next to public cemetery.
I put both hands on my jacket. It
reduced the chill a bit, but my goose bumps had started.
Soon enough, there were two shadows approached me. I looked
up to them. I stopped my munch. The fried peanut was back to my bag. The ones
left were fried garlic that I didn't really like very much on the table.
I looked up to them and found them smile at me. My heart
sank. They were gorgeous. How could
gorgeous people like them liked horror stories I made? They supposed to like
other programs, such as Music on The Road--top hits songs, or any others, but
absolutely not the one I was in charge of.
Blaaarrrrr....
A great thunder and lightning suddenly striked and made the
electricity off. I yelped. I held my bag tightly on my lap. Ron and Clau held
my back. From the lightning, I could see their gorgeous face that suddenly
turned to be horrible. At a slight lightning, i saw them grow fangs.
They are not human!!! I held my breath.
I tried to remember whatever I had in my bag. There's
nothing I had to fight them. Should I die here? Should I be one of them? No! I found my keychain that
might help. I tried to release myself from their grasp. I stood face to face
with Ron and Clau. They smirked at me.
"Oh, my dear Azoth announcer. You think we love your
creepy stories? You're wrong. Your stories are just like bunch of jokes.
Rubbish, especially when you told about gay vampire things. We're sorry for
other fans of yours that would never listen to creepy jokes anymore".
They got closer.
What I did was perhaps the most stupid someone could do. I
covered my face with my bag and swinged it to them. The keychain suddenly lit
up. I saw their face shocked. I swinged my bag wildly and screamed loudly. They
backed off. Ran frantically. I collapsed on the chair.
For about five minutes, my mind went blank. What made them
run away?
I took the keychain that seemed to save me from those
inhuman. It was a gift from my friend who went to Batu Cave, Malaysia last
month. He said it was made from the part of stalagmite found in the cave. The
stone was light and it has a picture of Lord Murugan, the great deity of Hindu.
Written by: Ms. Lala
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