Horror story part #3

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Office work needs to go to Rangunia in Chittagong. The vehicle came to get me. Winter night. Apparently the zone above him has begun resting since ten PM. It is at long last 11 o'clock and 45 o'clock. The winter isn't freezing in any case there is an epic extent of haze. Seeing a bistro open all over town, I referenced that the driver stop the vehicle. I got off with the driver. The entire street is given up. There is nobody in the shop with the exception of a family of twelve or thirteen years. I was dazed to see the kid alone on such a squashed night. Making on the assertion, watchmen's charm cooling corner. The name of the zone is Shantirhat. My goal is Ichakhali. The driver said Ichakhali is around four miles from here. Before I could state anything, the driver referenced that the optional school retailer make tea. The driver doesn't eat. He is leaning back in the vehicle with his arms disintegrated away from plain view. The smell of solid alcohol in the tea is causing the nerves to reestablish. Drinking tea will cause you to feel persistently free. All the close to shops are shut. This is a bistro. There are no individuals. The issue doesn't orchestrate in the head utilizing all procedures. The kid offered tea. I took out a cigarette. The driver passed on, "Sir, I'm coming a piece. I'll go to the opposite roadside." I esteemed that the driver had squashed the little washroom. The young stayed flanking her with tea. I'm smoking cigarettes and drinking tea. On a miserable night, I can hear the strong song of crickets. I'm taking a gander at the opposite roadside where the driver went to the little washroom. Regardless, nothing can be discovered considering the foggy moon. The driver is moving nearer through the mist. Close to the vehicle. By then the sky shook and hollered. I was terrified to see the driver's alarmed eyes. The driver is inclining towards me. I similarly took a gander at my hand and shook viciously. I don't see some tea, I'm holding the immature's ear. Not a cigarette in the other hand yet rather an appalling sharp edge. Butcher with a sharp edge close to the young's neck. Blood recolors on my shirt. Accurately when I took a gander at the shimmering bit of the sharp edge, I could see my face like a mirror. From the lips all over the place. So far kicking the basin. A vein in the throat between the teeth. The driver's shouts lit up inside the close to shops. The sound of moving the wooden deck of the shop is coming. The light of the light can be seen. The driver lost information while taking a gander at him with startled eyes. I can scarcely administer it. Being. Individuals are gathering close. Everybody is startled. Many are wearing electric lights. Everybody is taking a gander at the pre-adult and getting terrified over and over. In the wake of looking at them, I appreciated that the youngster passed on close to the beginning of today. Internment toward the night in the recognition park on that roadside. They are granting that I am removing the kid from the grave and eating blood. Unexpectedly I felt a sharp turn in the rear of my head. I quickly lost thought. Unequivocally when I recuperated thought, I comprehended who was giving tears. Feeling a dull torment in the head. I saw different eyes taking a gander at me. One of them pushed toward me and passed on, "Sir, you are okay. Make the significant steps not to be mourned, sir. We beat that vampire." I see there is a senseless driver close to the vehicle. The pre-grown-up youngster is a little on his right side. I asked, "What was the technique? I don't get anything." An old individual fused the driver and passed on, "Here, The vampire gets the kid from the grave on that roadside to eat his heart. We woke up to the youthful hollering. "I passed on, the kid is dead, in what breaking point may he holler?" Everyone around chuckled together at my words. The thick surprisingly segregating feeble dimness of the night started to turn red. There is no dew or blood on the leaves. The driver a little piece at a time got up. The optional school kid is in addition getting up. In any case, his head was butchered from the neck. The head is altering near the chest. A moronic grin on that face. I could see the driver's face undeniably. That isn't the driver. I myself. I have a sledge in my chest. This is going on. The optional school kid came and flung the spread from his body. He got me. Another of mine came and put an edge in my chest. Various nails from behind are holding fast to my neck and back. In a general sense the head changed into genuinely void before death. Genuinely I am not, straightforwardly a solitary substance. I have no examinations or affirmation with my own. Neither I nor an amazing store of us are savage. Us

Holding tight for the going with winter. The night that somebody drinks tea from an energetic in a kept zone, the blood fog will reach there.