The Bus Stop

Samarth Singh II

I was walking down a street, when I saw an old man sitting at the bus stop with his head facing down. I glanced at my watch. It was midnight and I thought that it was pretty late for an old man sitting alone. I thought of approaching him and asking him what the matter was. I started walking towards him, my boots were making a splash sound as there was light rain. I asked the old man about the matter, but he didn’t answer and started laughing. A chill ran down my spine as it was not a normal laugh. A demonic voice was coming from the old man. The old man turned his face towards me and started staring. His eyes were black. He started to smile at me as I saw blood oozing down from his mouth. I took a step back and fell. I found myself drenched in puddle water. But as I rose I found that my hands were smeared in blood. I stood up and started to run .After a few meters, the old man was not in sight and neither was his demonic laugh touching my ears. I ran home and locked the gate. Suddenly I woke up in my bed. The clock struck 7 in the morning. I was relieved that it was just a dream. Suddenly my landline started to ring and I answered “Robert Lincoln here”. At first there  was no reply. Suddenly someone started to laugh. I instantly recognized the same demonic laugh .I stood frozen .After a few days a report was filed in the police regarding a suicide in Lincoln residence .To this day an old man is sitting at the bus stop waiting for more targets to cross by.