The Living DEAD - Story By Lucky

The Living DEAD
By Lucky

Chapter 1

The Living DEAD

In the quiet confines of my hostel room, I lay enveloped in the embrace of sleep. The clock struck 3 in the eerie stillness of the night, and then, without warning, the electricity plunged into darkness. My room became a void, impenetrable to sight. As if compelled by an unseen force, my eyes snapped open.

A sense of unease lingered in the air, a departure from the ordinary. I rose, peering into the obscurity that shrouded my surroundings. All seemed normal, with only the rhythmic snoring of my roommate breaking the silence. Convinced that all was well, I attempted to return to my slumber.

Suddenly, a brilliant flash of lightning shattered the darkness, bathing the room in an ethereal glow for a fleeting three seconds. In that brief span, the fabric of my reality unraveled, exposing me to every conceivable fear. My once-ordinary life underwent an irrevocable transformation when I found myself face to face with an immense, ominous demon standing beside my bed.

My heart trembled, and my mind raced as I screamed with all my might, desperate to rouse my oblivious roommate from his deep sleep. Alas, my efforts proved futile. Petrified, I sought an escape, my terror intensifying as I discovered the room's door securely locked. I strained against it, but it resisted my every attempt to force it open.

In the grip of panic, I pounded on the door, pleading for help, while simultaneously begging the looming demon for mercy.

"Please!" I cried, my voice echoing through the darkness. "Please, let me go! I don't want to die!"

Yet, the demon responded with a malevolent smile, advancing toward me with a terrifying certainty.

As the demonic presence drew nearer, my pleas echoed through the confined space, desperate and filled with the raw emotion of fear. The demon's malicious grin widened, shrouding the room in an aura of malevolence. I felt a chill down my spine as I continued to press against the unyielding door, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.

"Please, I beg you!" I implored, my voice trembling. "I don't know what you want, but spare my life. Let me go!"

The demon, unmoved by my entreaties, seemed to revel in the torment it inflicted upon my psyche. With each step, it emanated an otherworldly energy, casting long, menacing shadows on the walls. Desperation gripped me as I realized that escape was futile within the confines of that locked room.

In a last-ditch effort, I summoned the remnants of my courage and confronted the demon.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice steadying against the encroaching terror. "What do you want from me?"

The demon remained silent, its eyes gleaming with an unholy intelligence. Its response was not in words but in an eerie, guttural sound that sent shivers down my spine. As it reached out, its touch felt cold and unnatural, sending a shockwave of dread through my entire being.

With no escape in sight, I braced myself for the unknown fate that awaited me in the clutches of this demonic presence, the minutes ticking away in the timeless dance between fear and despair.

"Stop!" I shouted. "Don't come near! Please! Somebody please help..!!!!!"

The demon advanced slowly toward me. Using all my strength, I pounded on the door, but it remained unmoved, plunging me into hopelessness. Uncertain of my fate, I stood on the precipice of despair, anticipating the worst. Just as I resigned myself to death, the door unexpectedly swung open.

Confronted by the darker presence of my roommate, I gazed at it with trembling hands. Driven by an incomprehensible instinct, I seized a nearby blanket and hurled it at the demon, sprinting toward the sanctuary of my hostel balcony. The small terrace, a fleeting refuge from the encroaching darkness, felt both confining and liberating as I burst onto it.

Despite the demon's frustrated roars echoing, no one stirred from their deep slumber. I grappled with the uncertainty of my fate, realizing that even if I leaped from the not-too-high hostel balcony, it would offer no escape—the demon would find me relentlessly.

The demon's frenzied search intensified, its roars reverberating as it sought me out. In the midst of the chaos, the haunting question lingered: "Why does this demon single me out for death?"

In that poignant moment, desperation enveloped me like a shroud, rendering me powerless to seize control of my fate. The looming specter of death became an inevitable companion, and all I could do was surrender to the cruel hands of time, a captive to the unfolding tragedy.

The only recourse that came to mind was to pray for my life. Joining my hands, I looked to the sky with inner hope and strength, pleading, "O God, save me from this cruel demon. I beg you, Lord. Save me. I don't want to die. Please..."

In a momentary pause, I awaited a divine sign, but the sky remained unchanged. Kneeling with hands still joined, I cried, "Someone, please save me! I don't want to die!"

No hope remained for me! The demon swiftly sensed my presence and readied itself to approach. I met its bloodshot red eyes, observing a sinister smile playing on its lips.

In the tense exchange with the demonic entity, I gathered the courage to demand, "Who are you, and what do you want from me?" However, my inquiry was met with an unsettling silence, lingering in the air like a foreboding mist.

Suddenly, without uttering a single word, the demon's malevolent grin widened. In a horrifying twist, it seized my right hand with an unholy strength, its fingers like vice grips, constricting around my flesh. The smile on its dark visage remained, an eerie calm before the storm.

With a swift, ghastly motion, the demon brought forth an ethereal blade, gleaming with an otherworldly malevolence. The atmosphere thickened with dread as I realized the impending horror. In a moment both surreal and nightmarish, the demon, with that sinister smile etched upon its face, severed my hand from my trembling arm.

The pain was unavoidable. That night echoed with my screams, a relentless expression of agony. The demon seized my severed hand, callously licking it with its tongue. Without hesitation, it proceeded to sever my left leg as if it were a mere wooden log. Collapsing to the ground, I screamed in torment. The demon erupted into laughter, reveling in my suffering.

With tear-filled eyes, I gazed at the indifferent sky. "Why, Lord?" I uttered in silence. My gaze shifted to the amused demon. Without delay, it severed my other hand. Though I felt the pain, the anguish of being abandoned by heaven eclipsed the physical torment.

Frustrated, the demon cut off my remaining leg, yet I remained silent. Annoyed, it lifted and tossed me aside. Unamused, I endured as it threw me into the sky, awaiting the harsh impact on the ground. Unsatisfied, it decided to cast me even farther away. As it gripped my waist, poised to throw me, a sudden halt—the demon sensed my heart no longer beating. Frustrated once more, it threw me away and vanished.

I landed on the hostel campus, consumed by thoughts. What had just transpired? Was I so insignificant to heaven that it relished my cruel demise? Was it fair? Why did heaven allow this without interference? Was I deemed too worthless to be saved? Why did no one wake when I pleaded for help?

The living dead echoes a resounding "WHY?"

The next day, everyone was gripped with fear and shock upon discovering the severed body of a fellow student. As I lay there, I could observe the expressions on their faces. Despite my heart not beating and being declared dead, I alone knew that I was still alive. My soul remained tethered to my body, a silent witness to the unfolding events. Each face I beheld wore a grim and sorrowful countenance.

Soon, the police were summoned to investigate the case. Unfortunately, the CCTV cameras yielded no footage due to a power outage the previous night. My parents received the heartbreaking news, and upon their arrival, they were shattered at the sight of my lifeless form. That day marked the cruelest turn of events, as my death was classified as a murder. The identity of the demon responsible for my demise remained unknown. Despite my desperate attempts to scream and reveal the truth, my pleas fell on deaf ears, unheard by the living.

My body was transported to the hospital for a forensic report, and my other severed body parts were collected and examined. The doctors determined that a sharp and rusted weapon had been employed to carry out the gruesome dismemberment.

On the day of my funeral, I was laid upon the pyre, and soon the flames ignited. The fire consumed my flesh, revealing the starkness of my bones. Amidst the searing pain, my eyes flickered, catching a glimpse of the very demon standing apart from the onlookers, observing my cremation. In his hand, a bone, likely mine, as he had taken my right hand with him.

He no longer wore a smile, and any sense of satisfaction had vanished from the demon's countenance. He stared at me, seemingly motionless, as if questioning how he could perceive my presence. Perhaps remorse had gripped him, for in the next moment, his eyes glistened with tears. He wiped them away, surprised by the unexpected display of emotion. Why was he shedding tears at the sight of me burning alive?

As my entire body turned to ashes, leaving only my skull behind, my family bid me a final farewell by releasing my ashes into the Ganga River. My skull sank into the depths, a fate I believed befitted insignificant souls like mine. I presumed I would be alone forever, but reality unfolded differently.

A colossal creature approached—a familiar demon, the very one who had taken my life. He seized my skull and led me to a forest, likely his dwelling. Placing my skull on a pedestal, it became evident that he used it as a seat or perhaps a significant place for some unknown purpose.

With a sorrowful tone, he uttered, "Why didn't you escape that day?"

It seemed he carried a profound remorse after taking my life, but how?

"Why do you care?" I responded.

"I've killed many humans," he began. "but never encountered someone like you."

"What do you mean?" I inquired.

"You're dead, yet you're alive. You feel pain even after death. Nobody watched, but I noticed your agony when your body was burning. How?" he explained.

"No idea," I replied. "The last thing I remember was being abandoned by the heavens to die a cruel death."

After a brief pause, I continued, "I saw you leave in frustration when I stopped screaming in pain. Why?"

"Because it amuses me when a human screams in pain. It was a fun job for me. When the screaming stops, the human is no use to me. When you stopped screaming, you were not useful."

"You killed me for entertainment?" I was shaken.

"I want to ask one more thing," he said.

"Sure," I agreed.

"Why did you stop screaming even though you felt pain?" he asked.

"The pain you gave me was nothing compared to the pain inflicted by the heavens," I continued. "I've heard people talk about how God helped, showed signs of righteousness, did this and that. The night you tortured me, I kept looking at the sky. To my surprise, it didn't show any sign. My hopes shattered, and my heart was deeply shaken. All the while, I stared at the sky, expecting it to show a sign, but all I received in return was pain. I was too consumed by my mental anguish to focus on the physical pain."

The demon was visibly shaken. The revelation that the people he had killed suffered immensely had struck him profoundly. What was once entertainment for him had now become an unanswered question—'Why?'.

With a deep breath, he uttered, "You had the chance to escape that night! You could have jumped from that terrace to save yourself. I might have chosen another human for entertainment. Why? Why didn't you escape?"

"That's what I am trying to figure out," I replied. Tears welled in my eyes. "Why did I believe others and not follow my heart? If only I had trusted my heart and not the heavens, maybe I would be truly alive."

"Don't cry, please," the demon said. "It was all my fault. I am your culprit. I... I apologize for what I did to you."

I was stunned by his change in demeanor. That night, he had shown no mercy, and now, after my death, he expressed remorse?

"Hey! I want to know something too," I smiled. "What made you apologize?"

"After I threw you and went away, I suddenly realized that I should remove all the evidence. So when I came to hide your body, I saw your eyes; they were alive. I waited for you to die. I waited until morning, but you were still alive.

In the following days, I followed you everywhere, saw everything. No one heard you. No one felt your pain. But in that moment, somehow, I felt everything. I felt your pain. Your right hand was with me all the time, from the terrace to this current moment. I still have your hand.

Maybe you taught me emotions I lacked because I held your hand. The Right Hand!"

"Impressive, Mr. Demon! I am so happy for you," I said with a hint of sarcasm, trying to process the unexpected turn of events.

"I promised you that I won't kill anyone for entertainment. And I am sorry for what I did to you. Please forgive me. Though I know you won't forgive me but still, I beg you," the demon pleaded, his voice carrying an earnest desperation.

His apology hung in the air, and for a moment, the forest seemed to hold its breath, caught between the echoes of our intertwined fates. The once malevolent force, now burdened with remorse, awaited my response.

As I gazed at the demon, the complexity of the situation weighed on me. This being, who had inflicted unimaginable pain upon me, now stood before me with a vulnerability that defied his demonic nature.

"I forgive you, Mr. Demon!" I declared with a smile. Though my skull couldn't smile, the sentiment resonated within. Why did I forgive him? Perhaps I am inherently good, or maybe I discerned genuine remorse in his eyes. He had shattered my life in an unforgivable manner, yet what mattered now was his acknowledgment of the grave wrongs he had committed against others.

As I extended forgiveness to the demon, an unexpected warmth enveloped the space between us. The forest, with its ancient trees and mysterious aura, seemed to embrace the notion of redemption.

The demon, visibly moved by my words, nodded in acknowledgment. The weight of his past actions lingered, but the possibility of change and redemption now flickered in the air.

In that surreal moment, the boundaries between victim and perpetrator blurred, leaving room for a shared understanding of the complex tapestry that bound us in the afterlife.

"Thank you," the demon whispered, a hint of gratitude threading through his words. The forest, once witness to agony, now held the promise of transformation and healing.

"Mr. Demon," I said, "I am glad that I met you in the end. It was a nice meeting. I hope you won't break your promise."

"Yeah, I won't!" he assured.

"Then I guess it's farewell time! Goodbye, Mr. Demon!" I exclaimed.

"But boy, what's your name?" he asked. "Hey, boy? Boy?? BOYYYYYYY!!!?"

"I PROMISE YOU I WON'T BREAK YOUR HOPE!" he roared at the sky.

He held my skull and embraced it. Just as he said, 'from the terrace to this current moment,' he had my Right Hand ALWAYS!

I still wonder one thing: how complicated this world is! The demon who mercilessly killed me cried on my death. How the stone on which there was no hope became soft, and the heaven on which there was hope turned out to be harder than a stone.

He asked for my name, but I never responded. I was not there anymore. I was... I was... sorry! I gotta leave now.

Chapter 2

Conclusion

Hello! I hope the underlying message in this narrative resonates with you. It goes beyond being a simple tale for enjoyment. Allow me to elucidate.

Our world can be a place where genuinely good individuals endure significant suffering. You might be grappling with challenges, and those around you may witness your struggles, yet they often choose to ignore, seemingly in a deep slumber. Despite your cries, attempts to escape, moments of fear, and the undeniable pain you experience, the people in this world may not awaken from their profound slumber. So, can you truly rely on your relatives, friends, and family for help? Ask yourself this, and you'll likely discover that assistance depends on their willingness to help. Most of the time, you find yourself alone beneath an empty sky, realizing that your hopes mean very little to those you trust.

Those who inflict pain upon you seldom consider how you feel. They don't empathize because they simply don't care. Despite sharing meals, laughter, and even study sessions, they cannot be your true friends. Their amusement stems from your tears. In this world, you'll encounter individuals who derive pleasure from hurting others because that's what they genuinely enjoy. They seldom reflect on the wrongness of their actions; for them, it's merely a part of their routine. Imagine a scenario where a boy is mistreated by his seniors in front of classmates. The seniors, in turn, may have experienced similar treatment from their own seniors, perpetuating a cycle. People often act impulsively, driven by a desire for revenge. The misguided belief that being cool equates to playing with others' emotions and lives prevails among them. This is how they perceive enjoyment – in causing harm.

And when it comes to consoling others, they do every little thing possible. They become your true friend at that time, crying at your pain, standing for you, holding a candle and praying for you without even peering inside your heart. However, don't fall for their false sympathy; they are all just fake. No one will notice your inner pain, not even your own family. Family? I don't know if family really cares. Their concern is rooted in hopes and expectations from you – that's how they were made. Who cares for a lone human deeply desperate? You know how you feel when you are hurt. If you try to explain to them, they'll nod and then forget. Don't fall for their false sympathy.

But there's a possibility that you will find someone who can see your real pain – your mom or dad, brother or sister, your boyfriend or girlfriend, your best friend, or sometimes even your enemy. That one person can perceive your true feelings and potentially free you from your eternal suffering. Search for that valuable person and embrace a genuine connection!

And yes, never forget that person, and never hurt anyone, whether it is a fictional character, a celebrity, a friend, or a junior. Everyone has a heart, and it hurts. It hurts a lot without a scream! It... It hurts. Never hurt someone for entertainment, and don't harm someone simply because you hate them for reasons best known to you. Make a promise that we will never turn into a demon. We're humans, right? Then let's pledge that we will never follow the path of the wrong hand. Let us hold THE RIGHT HAND!

That's what "The Living Dead" wants to convey.