A silent dusk during the beginning of summer, May. The sun had just kissed the horizon. A breeze blowing gently, leaves whistling, birds returning home after a long tiresome day.
Emma Woods, a woman of age nearly 71 years, lives alone at her house in a deserted part of the 30th alley in the city of Lockdoor. Legend has it that this part has been deserted after a revolt of the local residents against a policy of the local leader and that the leader was so powerful that he somehow managed to kill every single person in the mob along with all their family members.
Patrick Stewart, a young boy aged around 25 years is new in town interning with a locally based newspaper. It was his first day at Lockdoor. From day one he knew that something was not right with this land, but in course of time and work, he forgot this less significant matter. For a week he lived at his friend’s. Now he wanted to get his own abode. So inspite of his friend insisting on him to stay, he refused and began a house-hunt after about 15 days of searching he finally found a house that wanted a paying guest. He talked to the owner and to his fortune the owner agreed.
The next Sunday he shifted from his friend’s house and took a day off from office to re-arrange his stuff in his new room. A month had passed by since he had moved into his new house, everything was going well unless he saw something completely unusual.
The day before he needed to check the date to put in an article on which he had started to work lately.
Unfortunately, his cellphone wasn’t working since the previous night, he rushed to the local market to buy a calendar. He came home and kept it on the study table and dated his article. He was quite fascinated by the glistening sheets of paper that the calendar was made of. He said, “how can this paper be so glossy and……snow white?”. To his childish behaviour, he chuckled and ignored later on.
He wakes and prepares for office, just then his eyes catch something weird. The month of February had 30 days in the calendar, every 30th of the year was marked in red patches except for the month of June. He was shaken till his toes. Out of fear he ran out of the house. He knew something was wrong with the house for he had previously heard yells of other men and women at late hours in the night but fatigue somehow managed to make him forget all of them and embrace sleep.
At the office….
Patrick, still horrified about what had happened that morning. Suddenly comes across a colleague of his at the office. They pull-up a chair. It was 5 pm in the evening and a conversation began. They talked of the meagre wage that their job payed and other aspects of life, future plans etc. Just then his friend asked Patrick about his residence at Lockdoor. Patrick answered, “Yes, I actually am living as a paying guest at a house in the 30th alley.”
Friend: “The 30th alley! Are you out of your mind Patrick?”
Patrick: “ Why? What’s the matter?”
Friend: “That place has been deserted for over 10 years now, nobody lives there, nobody. And my friend that place has a strange history of paranormal activities. It is said that a woman named Emma Woods, who is actually dead, traps people from our newspaper office inside her house at the 30th of every month and trust me none of them have ever been found.”
Patrick: “30th of every month? But why?”
Friend: “Some say that her only son was murdered by the founder of this newspaper as he needed their land to build this office. But, her son denied and that is the reason that she had sworn to sue every person of this office but she was shot dead by a political leader during a protest or something and that is why her spirit is believed to avenge her son’s death.”
Patrick, completely devastated and horrified sat at his office till late, unaware of the time.
His desk phone rings…
His mother had called him as his cell wasn’t working.
Mother: “Hello, son how are you? It’s been a month already that you’ve gone and another is about to end tomorrow. When are you going to come home?”
Patrick still scared somehow managed to reply, “Soon…..Mom.”
He cut the call and headed home in terror. He looked at his watch. It said 11:55 pm.
He went to his room, sat down shivering, drank bottles of water. The fear of death had grasped his nerves.
Just then he heard a loud thud on his door and he could hear that a key was being put inside the keyhole and the door was locked. He beat the door, tried to open it but failed. He understood that something’s wrong. He tried to look out for who locked the door. It was his landlady, Emma Woods, walking slowly towards the distant fog and slowly she vanished.
Just then a wind made the calendar fall to the ground just in front of Patrick. While picking it up his eyes fell on his wrist watch.
It said 12:10 AM.