What is the meaning of life?
(A short spooky story)
.
It all started when my husband and I
were sitting in front of the TV one
evening. My husband was leafing
through the newspaper and he came
across a strange advertisement. It was
placed in the “Occult Services” section,
under various other ads like, “How to
Remove a Curse”, “Let Me Predict Your
Future”, “A Charm That Cures
Incurable Illnesses”.
The ad that caught his eye contained
only the title, “An Answer to the
Eternal Question: What is the Meaning
of Life?” and beneath it was a phone
number. It immediately captured our
interest and my husband decided to
call and ask what kind of service was
available.
He picked up the phone and dialed the
number. On the other end of the line,
there was a beeping noise and then
someone picked up the phone. My
husband said, “Hello,” but nobody
answered. There was a prolonged
silence on the other end and then a
loud crash. My husband winced and
hung up the phone.
We were baffled, but that night, when
we asleep in bed, the phone started
ringing. It was around 2 o’clock in the
morning. My husband got up and
grabbed the phone. It was from the
same number he had called earlier.
When he anwsered, there was a
female voice on the other end of the
line. I didn’t hear what she said to
him.
My husband looked at me with a
startled expression on his face. All he
told me was that it was probably some
kind of joke and he was going to check
it out. He quickly got dressed and left
the apartment. I didn’t even get a
chance to ask him anything more.
He didn’t come back. I waited for
hours and, in the morning, when my
husband still hadn’t returned, I went
to the police and reported him
missing. They told me they couldn’t do
anything until he had been missing for
48 hours.
I called our relatives, friends and
acquaintances. I called hospitals and
morgues. I couldn’t find him
anywhere. I tried to dial the number
from the ad, but the phone just rang
and rang and nobody picked up.
At night, I lay awake wondering what
could have happened and thinking
about what to do next. Even though the
thought filled me with dread,
somewhere deep inside I was hoping
that, in the middle of the night, the
telephone would start ringing again. At
2 o’clock in the morning, it actually
did ring. I almost jumped out of my
skin.
When I picked up the phone, I
recognized the voice on the other end
of the line. It was my husband. I heard
him mutter, “I’m not alone,” and all at
once, there was a terrible crash and
the line went dead. I hung up and
tried calling the number again, but
there was no answer.
A month has passed since the
disappearance of my husband. The
police searched and searched, but as
yet, the searches have not yielded any
results. The police told me that they
traced the phone number and it led
them to an old, abandoned house
where nobody has lived for decades.
This morning, I opened today’s
newspaper and found a similar
advertisement. It was titled: “An
Answer to the Age-Old Question: What
is the Meaning of Life” and there was
a different phone number underneath
it. I think I’m going to call it.
Even though everything inside me tells
me that this will be the biggest mistake
of my entire life, I have to call it. I’m
very scared, but I need to know what
happened to my husband. Maybe this
way, we’ll both discover the meaning
of life…
I was downcasted and dejected and I made a
desperate search for it.
I picked my phone from my handbag and dialed
the number with a thumping heart, very loud and
clamorous, louder than a locomotive train.
the phone pressed to my ear with a loud beeping
sound..
"hello" I said immediately the call was answered,
but got no response.
"hello!" ...
Long silence
.
exasperated, I hung up the call wondering why
the receiver kept mute.
the phone rang before I could return it.
I checked the caller, it was the same number I
called.
I dragged the green button and pressed the phone
to my ear. this time, I chose not to talk
Long silence..
"hello" a gruffy voice said at the other end of the
call.
and then a loud noise erupted and it hung up.
I became more confused with the weird way the
call hung up.
suddenly, my phone beeped and a message from
the number popped up.
"come to whisley street, no 54 for answers"
I contemplated over going to the said street, but I
could only get the answers there. which I
undoubtedly went to.
I got there, a big mansion stood before me. the
mansion seemed abandoned but the number 54
was boldly inscribed on it.
I walked to the gate banging and I felt silly. I
pushed the gate slightly and it swung open to
reveal an exquisite ancient building with bushes
embedded within.
the interior of the house was pitch black and void
of any movement.
I kept on walking with a trembling feet, glancing
back and forth for any movement but there came
none.
the whole place was eerily silent and a shudder of
chills slid down my spine.
I stopped and screamed loudly when I heard a
sound, but it was only the sound of my phone. it
was ringing, it was the same number.
I picked it and suddenly I fell, the phone went
flying in the air and crashed to the floor beside
me. it went dead.
I groaned as my back aches, the floor started
shaking, shaking vigorously and I struggled to get
up on my feet but kept on stumbling back. the
floor opened and I fell downwards screaming as I
fell.
I fell with a loud thud and I blacked out.
a bucket of water was splashed on my face and i
opened my eyes wearily, my vision was blurred
and I couldn't make out the figures I saw.
a slap landed on my cheek and I forcefully cleared
my vision.
it was a guy holding a long big plank, two guys
were at the other end of the room. the room was
dimly lit with a dying torch. I could see hundreds
of people tied down as hostages, victims such as
mine, the quest to unravel the mystery behind the
disappearance of my husband led me to this. it
was a ploy, a ploy of death.
another slap landed on my cheeks and it earned
me a groan. I looked up to see the guy holding
the plank, with an angry face. I could make out
his bloodshot eyes in the darkness. probably, he
had been talking but my mind had traveled far
away.
"you want answers?" the guy asked in a gruffy
voice almost same with the one I called.
I only nodded my head in response to the
question he asked.
he laughed, laughing inhumanely.
"well, the answer to the eternal question is
DEATH" he said and raised the plank high ahead
of his head with an evil grin. I was terrified,
shaking vigorously with sheer terror.
that instant, I knew the answer we were seeking
for is right before me.