Ghost StoryIn an interview with Mr. Mohammed, I asked him to tell me a real challenging story in his life. He started telling me a story about ghosts Although I have little faith in such stories and doubt the existence of ghosts, I nevertheless was compelled to hear of such happenings as Mohammed had himself encountered. At my urging, he offered little resistance and began to tell of one experience he shared with his roommate, Fahad.
“We lived in a small house in Mascat, Oman. Fahad was known locally as Mad Fahad. He was, for the most part, a hermit and usually preferred to spend his waking hours in an abandoned and dilapidated mansion located at the edge of the town.”
As soon as I heard the name, I asked Mohammed, “Is he really mad?” Mohammed explained that no one actually knew but that some people said he used to be a magician who used his dark powers to wreak havoc upon the neighboring communities. According to Mohammed, certain people believed that he was a mad doctor who tried to restore life to foul corpses collected from a nearby cemetery.
“One thing is sure,” Mohammed stated, “no rational person wanted to maintain a relationship with Mad Fahad.”
Mohammed continued, “Once day a new family moved into the neighborhood. The family consisted of the parents and their lovely daughter, Rachel, and her fiancé, Geoffrey. Mad Fahad had seen Rachel while the family members were on the way to their new home. Later, Mad Fahad called upon Rachel and showered her with precious gifts—pearl necklaces, goblets of pure gold, and other treasures. After initially refusing the gifts, she later accepted them. But she was already in love with Geoffrey, and soon they eloped together, leaving Mad Fahad angry and stunned.”
I asked Mohammed, “Was Mad Fahad in love with her? Did he decide to follow them?” Mohammed said yes to the first question, while to the second he responded that he was not aware if Fahad had followed the couple. But it became obvious later that Fahad was keeping an eye on them.
According to Mohammed, once Rachael and Geoffrey returned, they decided to host a ball and to invite everyone in the town. On the night the ball was to be held, just before it was about to begin, Rachel was standing in the foyer with her father when suddenly from outside came the sound of thunder, and lightning flashed wildly. Next, the door of house blew open and a breeze swept in and filled the room with the smell of rotting corpses. Guests observed Mad Fahad looming near the doorway, his eyes gleaming red. Behind him they saw four grotesque figures, seemingly dead, with eyes glowing with blue fire.
Mohammed continued, “Two of the figures caught Geoffrey and brought him to his knees before Mad Fahad. With eyes flashing, Fahad drew a silver knife from its sheaf and cut the throat of Geoffrey.”
“The room echoed with Rachel’s screams, Mohammed explained, “but none of the witnesses dared to take a step to intervene in the bloody scene. Then, pushing past a foul corpse, Rachel reached the dead body of her husband and pleaded desperately for Mad Fahad to kill her, as he had killed Geoffrey. But Mad Fahad, with fierceness, grabbed Rachel, drenched with the blood of her husband, and carried her out into that hellish night. Fahad’s entourage followed and they disappeared into the darkness—the thunder fading as they vanished.”
At this point I asked Mohammed, “Where did Fahad take Rachel, and has anyone tried to find her?” Mohammed responded that the parents of Geoffrey and of Rachel collected some neighbors and friends. They went to Mad Fahad’s house and searched every corner of that mansion, but they found no one there at all.
“The rooms of the house were strewn with mysterious objects, globes hung from the ceiling, and maps were spread open on the floor. Mad Fahad had vanished with Rachel and no one had any idea where they had gone. Geoffrey’s body was buried in a nearby cemetery.”
Mohammed said he had tried to contact his friend Mad Fahad, but it was all in vain. Interestingly, Mohammed had found a note from Mad Fahad at the door of Rachel’s’ home when she had just moved in. It said: “You will die. I will die. Everyone will die, but not tonight.” Mohammed had immediately taken the note and threw it away so that Rachel’s family wouldn’t worry.
I asked Mohammed, “Does the story end here?”
He continued his story, “No, almost a year later, Rachel’s parents woke up suddenly one night to the sound of someone knocking with seeming urgency at the door. Rachel’s father opened the door and saw a gray figure in front of him. It was Rachel! Her father carried her inside. A dullness in her eyes showed the extent of exhaustion and pain she suffered. She was unable to speak as her tongue had been cut out. In an instant, Rachel extracted something from her tattered garments—the silver knife with which Mad Fahad had slain her husband. A glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes revealed that Mad Fahad had finally killed her as well. That night Rachel closed her eyes for the last time. She never rose again, but a peaceful smile played on her face.”
After a few moments, I asked Mohammed, “How did you felt about this experience?” He responded with a sad expression, “I wish I had died that night rather than having seen Rachel’s family suffer in vain.” Mohammed regretted that he had been unable to stop his roommate from killing Rachel and her husband, and he blamed himself for their deaths.