The Frightening Desire in Old Dhaka

I had spent my entire childhood in the shadowy lanes of Old Dhaka, where forgotten legends clung to every cobblestone. Untold tales lurked in the shadows of the city's winding streets, waiting at the proper moment to emerge and send goosebumps down one's spine.

The incident I'm going to describe occurred in 1997, when our family was living in an aging, dilapidated home in the centre of Old Dhaka. My mother, father, older sister Nisa, our helping hand Nurnahar and I made up our family. Although our home was tiny, it was there that our most terrifying story would take place.

Our house was an old two-storied building. It had both history and something much darker. We sensed something was wrong because the terrace at the back of the house looked out onto a sinister, overgrown courtyard.

A simple invitation was the start of it all. We were invited to a wedding by a family from our ancestral hamlet of Munshiganj. We were kind of forced to attend the event.

My sister Nisa, who is a very beautiful young woman, seemed to have a hypnotic effect on everyone who saw her at the village wedding. One man, a visitor from our area, had almost an obsessive admiration for her. Joy was his name. He was a mysterious, enigmatic man, and his obsession with Nisa was evident. The fact that Joy had graduated and was currently unemployed would be significant later.

Life returned to normal after we arrived in Old Dhaka. While still in college, my sister looked forward to the upcoming summer break. But Joy's unsettling presence remained.

I went to our aunt's house with Nisa one afternoon. We enjoyed the joy and laughter that filled the house, but as the afternoon drew to a close, something unsettling happened. 

On the balcony, Nisa abruptly became frozen. My spine tingled as she fixed her gaze on the ominous object in the distance. Joy was there. He was standing some distance away, gazing at Nisa with a maniacal intensity. She made an effort to ignore him, but he was always there, casting a threatening shadow over our lives.

In a voice filled with fear, Nisa confided in me. As we talked about the situation, it became clear that Joy was becoming increasingly obsessed with my sister. He seemed to follow her everywhere she went, lurking in the shadows and maintaining an unblinking gaze. 

Nisa didn't even know his full name, and none of us had ever spoken to him. But in order to comprehend the origin of this terrifying fixation, she needed to know more. Nurnahar, our maid, stepped in at that point.

Nurnahar was familiar with the locals' darkest secrets. She set out to learn more about Joy, his background, and his goals. She was the one who told us about his graduation, his joblessness, and his ties to our community.

Nisa and Joy at one point started communicating through letters, aided by Nurnahar, because my sister didn't have a phone. Two worlds that were about to come together in the most horrifying way were connected by the letters, which served as a lifeline.

We had dinner one dark night, and there was a strange feeling in the air. Joy was scheduled to visit Nisa that evening, and when Nurnahar told us about it, the room was filled with both dread and excitement.

We were awakened from our sleep as the night went on by noises coming from the ground floor. We lit a light bulb to break through the darkness that seemed to seep from the very walls, as a sense of dread settled in.

We cautiously came down the stairs as we looked for Joy. The house, which had once felt comfortable, now seemed like a maze of mysteries and shadows. However, Joy was not to be found.

We hid on the upper floor, our hearts racing and gripped by terror. The unsettling noises persisted, and the ominous footsteps from the ground floor grew louder and more menacing. It appeared as though a threatening presence had taken over the entire house.

We could hear water splashing as soon as we entered the ground floor, as if something had been thrown into the small storage tank. When we rushed to investigate, we were horrified and perplexed to discover that the floor was dry despite the audible splashes.

We went back upstairs and locked all the windows and doors. The unsettling noises persisted, as if a malicious force was determined to enter our haven.

An eerie voice that we couldn't understand was heard reciting prayers at dawn from the roof. Our fear peaked as a result, sending chills down our spines.

Joy remained a mystery ever since, a menacing presence that defied explanation. We left Old Dhaka behind and relocated to our ancestral village a month later.

We discovered the horrifying truth about Joy from the family who was hosting the wedding. Joy had disappeared from our community two years prior. 

Joy had been hiding in the shadows, his obsession growing increasingly insane. The horror of Old Dhaka, the strange things that had happened in our house, and Joy's obsession with evil, haunted us.

We were left to ponder whether Joy was merely a human being or whether we had come into contact with something paranormal. The terrifying truth was only partially revealed, and the enigma surrounding Old Dhaka persisted.