Mysterious visitors

It grew dark all of a sudden. A ghastly wind almost took out their breath. Lightning only illuminated their backs. I hid behind a bush. I heard the rain pour.

But these two mysterious visitors didn’t show much signs of trepidation. Save the young one occasionally biting a nail or two.

She appeared from nowhere. Dripping wet. Fully clad in dark clothes. A shawl wrapped around the neck. Her face pale. But her eyes were like dazzling diamonds, they should have pierced the darkness for her.

“Glad to meet you even before the schedule.” She said in a shrilly tone. “I got a lucky lift.”

“We are happy too.” I heard the older of the mysterious persons say. “Hope you are not affected by the downpour, Daphne.”

Daphne! Then it lit upon me. I was very familiar with the name. But I didn’t have the peace of mind to recollect it at that time.

Another spooky wind swept past me. I clearly heard the rain impinging outside. But somehow it didn’t reach me. Neither the three mysterious intruders upon my landlord’s premises seemed troubled with it.

“This kind of an atmosphere really suits me. Wish I were cosily placed inside this mansion for yet another horrific story.” The strange lady pointed my landlord’s dilapidating, yet majestic castle.

“I also had a strong passion for horror tales.” The young person answered. “But when I was somewhat young. I immensely liked you ‘Jamaica Inn’. It is really bone-chilling and blood curdling. I didn’t very much like it’s movie version by Sir Alfred Hitchcock though.”

“Neither did I.” The lady snapped. “He had made a total mess out of it. Had never cared for a thing in my cherished novel. I’d not forgive him for that blunder even so for the glorification of my ‘Rebecca’”.

I was puzzled. I didn’t understand how a person can glorify another woman.

“Rebecca is still one of my all time favourites.” The old patriarch tried to calm her down. His voice drawled: “They say they have never seen such a super blend of human psychology in horror fiction. But it attracted me mostly for the love story.”

“Past cannot be buried, but only redeemed!” The mysterious dark lady shrieked. I clutched the bark of a nearby tree in terror. There was something non-human in her. “I wish they would understand that.”

“Are you against filming your works?” The young person asked. “Aren’t you satisfied with any other film adaptations except ‘Rebecca’?”

“No, it’s alright,” She said quietly in a relaxed mood. “I’m very happy with the film adaptation of my unsuccessful short story ‘Don’t Look Now’. I’m only irritated that the directors don’t consult me enough. They think they can manage it all themselves. But you can never convert a non-yours work into another form without giving it the due respect. Am I right, Master?”

“Obviously, you are talking of Alf?”

“Ah! Not entirely him. He’s a great pal whatever arguments we had throughout our lives. Still is in our world. I forgot you are not an earnest movie fan.” The mysterious lady laughed.

A wolf gave a shrill cry somewhere beside the strange visitors. The lady shrugged herself: “I think I shall go, Master. There are strict rules In our world, you know!”

The wolf rushed out the forest behind my landlord’s mansion and knelt before the lady. She jumped into its back. The wolf whined in joy and took her into the dark forest. I faintly heard the two mysterious waiters uttering warm goodbyes.

Then they turned back and walked towards the local inn. I was numb with fright and did not dare to follow them.

Nobody believed me when I narrated that encounter in the bar the next day. Gradually it slipped out of my mind.

Years later, I learned from my little grandson how to read and write. With his help, I was able to read some of world renowned novels.

I read a ‘Rebecca’ by an author called Daphne Du Maurier too. And throughout reading it, I couldn’t shirk off the feeling that it was this author I had met years ago in a spooky night with two strangers. But I didn’t tell it to my grandson because he wasn’t much fond of horror tales.

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