Ghostly Vengeance

Seeing the shadows of puppets walk and sit, laugh and sob, jump and dance over sweet melodies in the background was indeed a show worthy of watching. And when I came to know that it was being run by a single woman, I couldn’t help but to go and praise her efforts.
“Quite an amazing talent you got there, Mrs. Williams!” I exclaimed with admiration.
“Thank you, Constable! I learnt it from my husband,” she said.
“Where is he? He must be a brilliant mind in town. I’d love to meet such a person!”
“He indeed was brilliant. He died a year ago,” she sighed, her eyes suddenly becoming wet.
“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Is this boy his son?” I asked, pointing at a young boy, too absorbed in thoughts to notice at a stranger around him.
“Oh Yes. Come Carlos! Greet the constable!”
The young boy looked at me, his eyes empty and expressionless, turned his back and went into the house.
The woman, ashamed at her son's behavior, apologized in a sad tone, "he was all right a year ago, before his father died. He was a real prodigy, Constable! You should've seen him mimicking the shadows of the most complex objects by his bare hands. But now, he's just a quiet orphan who hates everybody."
"It's ok Mrs. Williams. Trauma can be devastating..."
As I paid my condolences, Junior came running to me,
“Constable! There has been a murder! The town’s doctor was found dead in front of the dissection hall!”
Within the next few moments, we were heading to the dissection hall.
“I didn’t know there was a dissection hall in town!” I said.
 “There is one. But nobody goes there. It always smells of rotten flesh and blood,” Junior said, “and ghosts too. The hall’s haunted!”
“Stop this nonsense, Junior! Don’t give your spinelessness the name of ghosts,” I said.
“There truly are ghosts over there, Constable,” the Carriage Driver said, “The dissection hall belonged to Marcus Silver, the great-grandfather of Dr. Benjamin. It was made for animal dissection to help in surgery, but Marcus couldn’t stay within limits. He started killing and dissecting people, they say, and one of their ghosts killed him in the same dissection hall!”
“I’ve heard the same tale. And since then, nobody goes even near that hall. It was Dr. Benjamin’s courage that made him stay near it, though not in it,” Junior said.
“But the ghosts have killed him now!” gasped the driver, shivering as though he just saw one.
Night had turned in when we reached the site. The driver preferred to stay at least twenty meters away from the Hall. The dissection hall was an ancient-looking, rectangular building, spanning an area of five large rooms fused together. It must’ve been beautiful sixty years ago, but due to the tales spread about it, no one came near it. The superstitions had actually given it a haunted look.
The doctor’s body lay in front of the hall. His position showed that he had jumped from the roof of the hall. The dissection hall was not high enough to kill a person. Hadn’t it been a remote place, he might have been saved. The doctor had died due to profuse bleeding, I presumed. As I examined, Junior just stood, looking at the body in horror. Then he exclaimed,
“How did he jump from the roof?”
“Don’t you know how to jump?” I mocked.
“But…”
“You should be thinking why he jumped from the roof!”
“But…” Junior was hesitating.
“Enough ‘Buts’, junior! Say it already,”
“There are no stairs to the roof!” Junior whispered, suddenly shaking as if saying this had enraged one of the ghosts.
For a moment, I, too, was shocked to hear this news. If there were no stairs, how did the doctor manage to climb the hall? I assumed that there must be a secret passage to the roof. We needed to check the whole dissection hall for that. Not surprisingly, Junior refused to come. I decided to go into the hall myself in the morning. The body had no signs of violence or hints of murder. I ordered the burial and left.
In the morning I prepared myself for the investigation, which according to Junior was nothing but a suicidal attempt. As I reached there, I saw a boy standing by the hall’s door.
“Don’t you love your life, Carlos?” I asked, mocking the superstitions of the town.
“I could ask you the same question, sir,” he said. I laughed at the witty answer. I had heard him for the first time, and he didn’t sound like a desolate orphan.
“I think I can help you investigate, if you don’t mind,” he continued, “I happen to know a lot about this hall.”
I was relieved, but didn’t forget to warn him,
“Kids like you shouldn’t come to places like this. You might get distressed on seeing the inside.”
“Don’t worry sir, I’ve faced enough distress in my life. A dissection hall can’t scare me off,” he assured.
A young assistant could be of great help. Contrary to Junior’s explanations, the door didn’t seem to be unused for years. Though it had no handle, it opened with a push. For the first time, I smelt the foul odor the Hall was so famous for- the smells of hundreds of putrefied dead bodies combined to form a single stench, that was unbearable. I could’ve retreated, but a Constable couldn’t back in front of a preteen. I put my mask on.
Then, we explored the Hall. It was a long hall with huge windows for light and ventilation. There were about ten huge trunks lining the wall. In the middle were three long tables which, I presumed, were for dissection. Beside every table was a bin. I again felt that the Hall was being used by someone, the doctor himself maybe.
Apart from the furniture and the stench, the other notable thing was the huge number of pages and files in the Hall. They were the doctor’s notes and must be of extreme value to the next doctor who would come to town. Next, I moved to the huge trunks to see the contents. Carlos, sensing my intention, shouted,
“Don’t open it! You wouldn’t like it!”
“How do you know?”
“I just know, all right?”
“You can go, child. Let me deal with this,”
Carlos stood at the entrance with closed eyes. I opened the trunk and had to close it immediately, for I had seen the reason behind Carlos’ warnings. Despite releasing the foulest of odors, what horrified me were the contents. It contained body parts- Arms, hands, shoulders, and who knows what more!
“Did you know?” I asked.
“Yes. The one you opened only has the upper limbs. This one,” he pointed to the one beside mine, “contains the lower limbs of humans. And the ones next to it have the chests and the abdomens,”
“What about this one?” I pointed at the farthest trunk.
“This is the worst,” his voice quivered, “it has the dissected heads!”
This was enough for me. Though I wanted to leave the Hall immediately, we stayed and searched in every corner of the hall. We had found no stairs and no clues regarding the doctor’s suicide. I thanked Carlos and we departed. There were hundreds of questions in my mind. Whose dead bodies were they? Why didn’t anyone know about it? Why did Carlos know everything? But now was not the time. I had to visit Mrs. Benjamin before I interrogated Carlos. I had to be prepared.
Mrs. Benjamin was a frail middle-aged woman in fifties. Her whole forehead was bandaged and she looked extremely ill. She couldn’t even attend her husband’s funeral. After the condolences, I started asking the important questions,
“Why do you think he died, Mrs. Benjamin?”
“Don’t you know, Constable? You really don’t know?”
“Nobody knows, dear lady, we only know that he jumped from the roof,” I said.
“It was the ghosts. It was always the ghosts. They followed him everywhere. They demanded their bodies. Eleven months ago, I used to think that he was just imagining. Why would the dead demand their bodies from a doctor, a healer? But you know what? Once I saw them too!”
“Are you sure you saw a ghost?” I asked, preparing myself for an imaginary story.
“I saw it alright! I woke up one night to drink some water. As I drank, I heard Benjamin screaming and pleading in his room. I quietly opened the door and saw what I can never forget. In the large window of his room, there were long shadows, making eerie noises, giving warnings and making demands in odd accents. What I could hear were ‘Bury me as full’, ‘We’re waiting for you’, ‘You won’t last long doctor’. Benjamin was sobbing and constantly apologizing. Then all of a sudden, the other shadows backed out, and one of them moved nearer to the window, I felt that in a moment, he would move right through it. But he did worse. He spoke in a horrifying yet familiar voice, saying,
‘You know our demands, Doctor! Revenge is here! And here’s your token for the night!’
There was a shatter and before I fainted, I had seen only a glimpse of the object thrown into the room… It was a Human Head!”
Shuddering and gasping continuously as she told the tale, the last part seemed to drain the strength out of her. I wanted to leave, but there was another question to ask,
“Why do you have this bandage on your head?”
“Oh, it was this surgery my husband had performed two weeks ago.  I was really ill with a lump on my head. It seemed to be eating up my energy. Benjamin was so concerned that he had carried out some research on head injuries for two months. He could do anything for my perfect surgery,”
“What kind of research? Did he tell you about its nature?”
“He didn’t tell me, but I came to know eventually… It isn’t worth telling!”
“How? Please don’t hesitate. I need to know it for my investigations.”
“When I became confined to bed, I was lonely. My only company was the Williams’ lonely orphan. A wonderful boy he was, talking about all sorts of things before I slept. And one day, it was he who told me about my husband’s research. My healer husband was a dissector… a dissector of human bodies! His hands had the remains of the restless dead! How could he have survived with them?” She started sobbing.
It was getting dark and I wanted to look at the doctor’s room before leaving. It was a room unlike to Mrs. Benjamin’s. On one side, there was a bed and on the other, a study table with a bin. There was a large window beside the bed. In the corner was a wardrobe, opened and with all it’s contents thrown out. I lighted my lantern and was horrified to see the walls. They were filled with bloody handwriting saying the same kind of things that Mrs. Benjamin had told me- things about death, burial and revenge. I found some crumpled pieces of paper in the bin that I decided to examine later.
Next morning, I went to my office with the 3 pieces of paper I had found. The first piece said,
“I’m sorry for what I’ve done!”
The second one said,
“Spare me, please! You already have my written confession!”
And the third one, that seemed to be the latest, said,
“You’ve had your revenge! The surgery failed! You don’t need to kill me now! I’m dead already!”
So, it was suicide, I thought. There was a knock at the door and in came Junior with Carlos. I had asked him to bring the boy.
“You have a lot of explaining to do, young man!” I said.
Carlos didn’t seem to be agitated in a hurry. Though he was in police custody now, he seemed peaceful.
“But first, tell me: Where is the written confession?”
Without saying a word, Carlos took a piece of paper out from his pocket and handed it over to me.
It said:
I, Dr. Benjamin Silver, confess! I was the one who dissected them all. Yes, I dissected every part of them, every organ and every muscle of them. I had to do it- for the perfect surgeries I performed. Yes, I eased the death of just one in my life! Henry Williams had to die, he was too ill! I just eased his pain! I’m ashamed! I’m sorry! Please stop coming to me! Please stop following me! Stop hurting a healer!


“Dr. Benjamin was killed by the ghosts, everyone says. But I seem to know someone seeking revenge. Carlos Williams, do you have something to say?”
“I do. I will tell you my whole story,”
“Go on. I have sufficient time,” I said.
And he starting telling his tale,
“My father died last year on October 11. He had been ill for a month but I didn’t expect him to suddenly die that day. I was shocked. I don’t know why, but I felt that he still needed me. So that night, I was mourning by his grave when I heard someone enter the graveyard. I thought it was Jonathan, the gravedigger. It is illegal to enter Graveyards during the night. He could hand me to the police. I was scared of him. I hid. From behind the bush, I could see the shadow of a hooded person, holding an old lantern. He wasn’t Jonathan but he was a gravedigger- for he had started digging my father’s grave! Maybe Jonathan had drugged himself to sleep that night, as the noise could’ve woken him up easily…
He exhumed the body and loaded it unto a wheelbarrow. Though terrified, I followed. I wanted to know who was the one who couldn’t let a dead man rest in peace, and why! To my horror, the hooded person was taking him to the old dissection hall!
He entered the hall and placed the body on a long table. I sneaked behind him, and as he unhooded himself, I saw his face. It was Dr. Benjamin. He was an adult with a sharp instrument while I was a mere twelve-year-old. I couldn’t fight him but neither could I leave. I stayed there to see the farthest extent of human brutality in my life. What had he not dissected? What had he not cut? I didn’t sob and I didn’t cry. I was numb, and I only wished for one thing after that: Another dissection- dissection of the man who stood before me, a dissected Dr. Benjamin!”
“Seems that things didn’t turn out the way you wanted, eh?” Junior said.
“If that was truly what I wanted, I would’ve achieved it. I was made a human being and I couldn’t just let go of the values my father had tried to preserve in me. I couldn’t kill a person. But I could make him confess…”
“So, you disguised yourself as the ghosts of the Dissection Hall?” Junior asked.
“He didn’t disguise, Junior. He used his Shadow Puppet talent. He was always a prodigy.”
“Yes. I started visiting Mrs. Benjamin without bringing it into the notice of the Doctor. I started following Dr. Benjamin everywhere. I was the one who wrote the notes and made the ghostly shadows with deadly voices. He was a good surgeon but every surgery of his had a price to be paid beforehand- dissection of a poor dead body from the graveyard. In ten months, I witnessed twenty-eight dissections with these eyes of mine! And I had known many of them...” he stopped. Looking at a dissection must’ve been too much for a youngster like him.
“Dr. Benjamin was used to doing dissections, but they had had their aftereffects. He was already seeing ghosts and having the worst of nightmares. I just added to them.”
“But how did you kill him?”
“I didn’t, neither did I order him or lure him to do it himself. After he wrote the confession a month ago, I stopped going to that place. But I have a hint what might’ve happened.
“What?”
“The ghosts that haunted him were deadly. You can’t actually live with people who are always telling you how brutal you’ve been to them. He must’ve done that to rid himself of them,” he shivered.
“But there were no stairs to the roof, how did he reach it?” Junior asked.
“Oh that, there were vines on the back of the Hall that you missed. When a person is agitated, he can climb vines! So I guess that’s the reason. Otherwise, there are ghosts that can do the trick!” He said.
I had nothing more to ask from him. He was in custody at the time, but we couldn’t charge him for anything. I came out of the room.
“What a scientific ghost story that boy just made!” Junior laughed but stopped when I remained serious.
“Medical field has a dark face, Junior,” I sighed, “Behind these countless advancements in surgery, there must be countless ghosts of the dead who were never allowed to sleep peacefully in their graveyards.”
“Do you believe in ghosts too, Sir?”
“I’m not saying they’re the kind of ghosts we see in movies. They are memories… Memories connected with the head the doctor dissects, with the heart that he takes out,” I said “and in the present case, with the ones who loved them, who couldn’t even stand someone putting a scratch on their bodies.”
“And what about the boy? Do you believe him?”
“I believe Carlos. The surgeon might’ve killed himself out of his own hallucinations, aggravated by the shadowy ghosts made by Carlos. Every man killed leaves a trace on a killer. I believe that every corpse dissected, too, leaves its traces, its ghost on the dissector…”
Junior said nothing in return. Nothing more was to be discussed. My carriage was here and I had to move on. My mind was full of thoughts about the ugly face of the medical profession. It would indeed take a long time, I thought, to forget the ghostly ways of vengeance-the vengeance of ghosts, the ghosts of the dissection hall!
Maryam Ejaz
Batch of 2020