Ghost Short Story – CARVINGS FOR LIFE
Ghost Short Story – CARVINGS FOR LIFE
In the realms of time when supernatural elements still mingled with their inferiors; there lived a young sculptor. The sculptor was a hard working, good natured and practical man. One day he received an offer to carve tombstones in a graveyard, which he would have to do by night as the graveyard was extremely crowded with mourners during the day. Elated, the sculptor took up the job at once; he relished any surplus work during which the little money he earned would allow him to lead a life of comfort for a few days.
The sculptor left his hut at dusk the following evening. However, by the time he reached the graveyard it was pitch dark. As he made his way through the graveyard, the sculptor stumbled on something. Crouching down to investigate, the sculptor saw it was an ancient tombstone engraved with intricate carvings and some illegible symbols. After a few minutes the sculptor deciphered the letters to read:
‘Be gone tonight before the hands of the clock meet;
Or else start to count your very last heartbeats.’
For a few seconds the only sound in the graveyard was that of the howling wind. Then the sculptor stood up scowling. This was the reason no one else was willing to take up this job; just because of a few words scratched onto a rock the world assumed this place to be haunted. Removing his tools, the sculptor swore to himself that he would remain in that graveyard until past midnight just to prove that the others fears were groundless. After a few hours the sculptor had finished his work, lit a fire and settled down to await midnight.
It was a frosty night and soon the sculptor fell into a stupor only to be awakened a few minutes later, or so it seemed, by the unnatural increase in the velocity of the wind and peculiar sounds that broke the night’s stony silence. Then at the stroke of midnight an unearthly and blood curdling wailing filled the air and a second later pearly white vapour arose from the cursed tombstone. The vapours took the form of an enraged slouching old man in mid air.
The sculptor ogled at the transparent being, his mouth open in an unheard scream. All he had ever believed in his life came crumbling down in a moment. He did not want to accept it, but there was no denying it- he was gazing at a ghost.
The ghost rumbled, “Mortal, how dare you defy the ancient rules and trespass our sacred territory! For this heinous crime, I curse you. You shall enjoy your heartbeats only for the next twenty four hours and then you shall be welcomed at the abode of Death!” Saying this, the ghost vanished before the sculptor’s eyes.
The sculptor was stupefied at the ghost’s words. Hearing his own death warrant, the sculptor lost his mind. All thoughts of practicality forgotten, he became determined to find someone who could help him out of his predicament.
The sculptor had heard of the Wise Old Man who knew the solution to all of humanity’s problems and decided to seek him out. On his way to the Wise Old Man’s dwelling the sculptor came across a gypsy. The gypsy advised the sculptor to travel so far away that Death would not be able to track him down. The sculptor could see many loopholes to this solution and therefore continued in his quest for the Wise Old Man.
The Wise Old Man, who had a long grey beard and an aura of prudence around him, lived in a secluded mountain cave. On hearing the sculptor’s story, the Wise Old Man was silent for a few minutes.
Then he spoke, “One should not fear Death but embrace the fact that one day everyone including oneself has to leave this world forever, on but another voyage. It hardly matters whether one leaves on this voyage tomorrow or a few decades later as ultimately every being on this Earth will end up there.”
The sculptor, who was in no state of mind to infer the enlightenment behind these words, was not at all convinced by the Wise Old Man’s solution. He was getting desperate and worked laboriously over the next few hours to fashion the world’s three most exquisite statues representing Water, Fire and Soil respectively. He presented these statues to their namesakes who were immensely pleased and granted the sculptor a boon each. The sculptor asked each of these Supernatural beings to never harm him any way and not be the ones to take his life. The three powers granted the sculptor’s wish, though reluctantly.
Feeling gratified, the sculptor now made his way to Destiny, who was easily flattered. Hearing the sculptor laud and venerate her, Destiny conceded to his request and assured him that he would enjoy a long life.
“Others will see your physical form as a hunched over, greying old man many years from now” she declared.
Consoled by these words, the exhausted sculptor dozed into a torpor for what was left of the night. As the sculptor snoozed, the ghost from the graveyard appeared out of thin air, smiled impenitently and after muttering a few strange words, disappeared again.
The next day the sculptor was awakened by the din and commotion around him. On opening his eyes he found himself in the middle of an unfamiliar street, surrounded by people wearing shocked and terrified expressions. He looked down at his hands and feet only to realize that they were not his. The sculptor was completely bemused until he saw a young boy whispering something to his friend, pointing to one of the ‘WANTED’ posters plastered on a wall and then to the sculptor.
As quick as lightning the sculptor understood the ghost’s game. The ghost had altered the sculptor’s appearance to look just like the clone of the most wanted criminal in the kingdom and then transported him to the capital’s main road where he was sure to be noticed.
The sculptor was too astounded to even protest as the crowd debated as his fate. Finally a decision was reached to hand over the sculptor to the king. Thinking he had nothing to lose, the sculptor told the court his entire story, from the day he was offered the job at the graveyard to the point where he landed up in the capital’s streets. Predictably however, no one believed him in the slightest and arrangements were made to have him executed in an hour’s time.
The sculptor climbed the scaffolding, his body trembling. He could not grasp the fact that even after going through so much, he was still going to die. Just as the executioner raised his axe, the Wise Old Man’s words came back to the sculptor. He realized the truth in those words and adopted them at the last moment of his life.
Just then time froze all around the sculptor. The executioner’s axe was paused in its descent and the crowd frozen in its jeering. In front of the sculptor, hovering in mid air was the ghost from the graveyard. The ghost said, “Dear sculptor, I am very impressed with your bravery and unflinching acceptance of death. As a reward I will let you live till ripe old age!” The ghost then vanished.
The sculptor, who was shedding tears of joy, was surrounded by a blur of images. The next instant, he was standing at the periphery of his hut clutching in his hand a job offer to carve tombstones in a graveyard.
