The Green Room

The Plan

Mr. Edward Smith Chapman was the director of the play. Mr. Adam Smith Williams had invited him to visit the school. It was a clear indication that he wanted to end their family feud and Mr. Chapman eagerly accepted it. Moreover, the Chapmans had played a major role in the Board of Directors for generations. It was during that visit that Mr. Chapman expressed his desire to direct a play for the school and Mr. Williams was more than happy to grant him the permission.

Harry lit a cigar. He had just finished dinner in his room and was contemplating over what the boy had said. It came as a shock. Yet, it was the bitter truth. He knew something terrible had happened to that girl, probably a fatal accident. Mr. Chapman had stayed back in the school for a few days and had even actively participated in the searches conducted privately by the school. He then left quietly, while Mr. Williams covered everything up. He had to do it. It was what the time demanded, else there would be utter chaos. The school's reputation would have come crashing down. Mr. Williams had hidden her body. It was a clever move. People would have developed sympathy for her otherwise. There would be protests, questions would be raised. But there was no dead body. There was confusion. The girl had run away. It was her own fault. Students were emotional, but the school did whatever it could. It hunted down her killer.

Harry was blissfully unaware of this incident until last year when he joined the Board of Directors and had to come back to India. He visited Mr. Chapman in his mansion in the outskirts of Manali. Mr. Chapman did not come to receive him. He sent his servants. He was sick, his servants said; and they also told him stories. It was only a matter of time before he realized why Mr. Chapman became sick, why he kept inflicting wounds upon himself, why he never slept in peace.

Harry remembered watching him sitting all alone in his dingy room. He would sit there, in front of an old dusty mirror, staring at himself, sometimes throughout the day. The servants would leave by nightfall. No one dared stay once the darkness fell. Sometimes, Mr. Chapman would leave the mansion at night and disappear into the forests around. He would return before dawn, bearing fresh wounds on his body, his clothes torn and soaked in blood. Harry consulted a doctor. The doctor visited the house and recommended Mr. Chapman be taken to his facility in Dehra Dun. A few weeks after the visitation, the doctor sent his staffs and a pick-up van. Mr. Chapman was sitting in front of the mirror when they came. They entered his room; and they saw something in the mirror, for they shrieked and ran out of the house. They drove away never to return.

One night Harry had followed him out. He did not remember much about it; only that there was a heavy mist. He could see Mr. Chapman staggering ahead of him. He was sobbing. He had tried to call him back but in vain. Mr. Chapman did not seem to hear him. The dark shapes of the forest loomed ahead. Then there were these vague shapes floating above him. He had not paid attention to them initially, but they seemed to be moving. It was only when he reached the edge of the forest that he realized what they were. Something had moved above him... a shadow in the mist. He could never forget the rotten smell that had followed. He had looked up at those shapes hovering among the foliage. Did they look familiar... human-like? Were they men and women standing in the sky...?

He knew he had fainted. He was carried home by local villagers the next morning. Mr. Chapman had returned with fresh cuts on his face. Harry did not find the need to consult a doctor again. He needed to know what was happening. Harry tried to extract details from Mr. Chapman, but there was nothing he could make out from his mumbling. But he got a name, a girl's name. Soon, he related the name to the girl who had died in Queen Victoria School in 1989. He then began to pull strings. The madness had started about two years after the unfortunate incident. Mr. Chapman had sought help from a priest in a small temple in one of the remote mountains seventeen years ago. He was given a talisman. It worked, but not for long. She's becoming stronger, Mr. Chapman often mumbled in those days.