A Mystery Under the Moonlight

 Year – 2003:

Jayant was returning from the cold, picturesque town of Manali after dropping off his passengers, a newlywed couple on holiday. Their incessant stoppages, coupled with the endless queue of cars around the time-honored settlement nestled within the enchanting Himalayas, meant he had to depart at dusk. The crimson hue of the sunset was a sweet foreboding of the imminent hours of darkness and the menacing phenomena that these revered ancient hills brought with them. Jayant, despite being conditioned by his orthodox family, had never been a keen follower of spirituality, but he had heard his share of tales of spirits haunting the woods of these mystical hills.

As the path ahead of him twisted and turned, he smiled at the recollection of such creations of the mind. The first leg of the journey went comfortably; he even managed a stopover at a roadside eatery attached to a small motel. There, he met Sajan Singh, a fellow trucker out on a commercial assignment in these lonesome hills.

“Beware, Jayantji, the path ahead is not safe for lone travelers at night,” Sajan Singh said, his voice solemn.

“I know, Sajanji... the local burglars... I have been well informed about them.”

“No, no, not them... her...” His voice became hushed whispers, much to Jayant’s perplexity.

“Who?”

“Her... she who wanders desolate through these woods, looking out for young men ill-fated enough to tarry through these hills in their lonesome just like her.”

His fanciful way of putting such rubbish made Jayant snicker and choke on his food.

“Don’t worry, Sajanji, if I come across that miss, I’ll surely give her a lift,” he said, gulping down water. “Perhaps after reaching her desired destination, she will stop wandering these hills.” He let out a chuckle.

“I can only caution you to spend the night before proceeding ahead; the rest is upon you...” Sajan's tone reflected the offense taken at Jayant’s impolite humor.

“Thank you for the advice... I would’ve stayed had it not been of utmost urgency to reach back to Delhi by tomorrow evening,” Jayant tried to downplay his earlier words.

“May God be with you... have a safe journey.” Having wished him well, Sajan got up to rinse his hands while Jayant, having finished his supper too, hastened towards the car, bidding adieu to his new mate.

As the moon hid behind the veil of somber clouds, the night darkened, and the trees twisted into abnormal shapes, giving the road ahead a truly ghastly appearance. Sajan’s words echoed in Jayant’s mind, sending chills down his spine, but his foot remained firm on the gas pedal lest he be reprimanded by his boss for the delay.

Merely half an hour into the journey, he saw a woman by the road. As he neared her, the profile molded itself into a beautiful woman, not more than a miss in her twenties, wearing a white floral dress. He drove past her, knowing the tactics of dacoits who used young women as bait for unsuspecting travelers willing to lend a helping hand. An unsuspecting woman alone in the middle of the woods didn’t seem to go together all that well.

He checked the rearview mirror and locked eyes with the woman who glared at him. Her annoyance with the failed attempt amused Jayant. He smiled and, with the next turn, she vanished out of his sight.

He drove further, sleep overpowering him, but he remained obstinate about leaving these hills by the night itself. Just a few more hours to go, he reminded himself.

Yet, fate twists strangely amidst these hills. Barely a kilometer later, he encountered her again, standing at a distance in that same floral dress, waving her hand for a lift. Jayant felt his heart skip a beat as Sajan Singh’s words hauntingly echoed through his mind—the girl that wandered aimlessly through the hills. Jayant’s foot slammed the brake pedal to the floor, and with quick and risky maneuvers, he turned his car around to return to the hamlet on whose outskirts that motel lay.

His heart pumped wildly in his chest, his vision darkened, and his hands shivered, but his foot remained affixed on the accelerator. It was a miracle indeed that he made it to the motel, which looked suspiciously empty. However, he ran without a second thought towards it and secured a place to spend the night.

The next morning, he woke up to a perplexing scene. He no longer lay on the mattress in his room but rather on the cold floor amidst the unwelcoming sight of dilapidated walls. With a groan, he lifted himself up and made his way through the musty corridor of the motel and finally out through the supposed exit.

The sight that greeted him outside shook him to his very core. The roadside eatery and motel where he had spent the night were now nothing but a dilapidated building. Nauseous and burning with fever, Jayant made a run for his car and drove off as fast as he could. Yet, as fate would have it, the next day, his car was found abandoned amidst the woods, and Jayant himself was never seen again.

The End