John, Paul and George shot from triangular positions. John’s went astray; however the other two rocks hit the small head perfectly. The staggering shadow shrieked, slowly advancing to the right. The three flowed in harmony: John and George grabbed the rope running in opposite directions perpendicular to the freak’s path; while Paul picked the bludgeon.


After school, the four lingered back to their homes. At the oak tree corner, they split. John and Richard skewed to the left quarrelling about something. John suddenly stopped chatting, his face getting pale looking behind Richard’s back. Richard turned reflexively and quivered.

Up in the distance, separated by a fence, stood a tall yellow-faced kid, spreading arms with an ominous smile. Without a word, both ran for hundreds of meters.


The next day break was noisy, two kids gibbering what they had experienced and the others interrogating them over and over. At last, Paul raised his hand ‘Stop! You must have been disillusioned; you should have tried to speak with him!’

John took umbrage at the remark. Richard protested that Paul wasn’t to react differently; however, Paul accepted the challenge. In the afternoon, the gang didn’t part ways. They approached the house hesitantly, Paul was the vanguard, Richard at the rear. The garden was empty! It was a large one exposed at the front. Old trees and plants tangled as you go further. The Edwardian building was almost hidden save for a chimney protruding afar.

For a week, nobody showed at the place; but when George started to disbelieve his friends questioning their mental status, they saw him.

It was late in the evening and he was closer. Now tinted with the dying scarlet rays of the sun, he looked even more dreadful. He reminded Richard of the shrunken heads of Amazon tribes he’d watched on TV. An everlasting manic grin showing large teeth decorated the frightening creature’s face. Paul plucked up the courage and reached for the fence.

‘Hey!’ he called. The kid didn’t make the slightest move. ‘Hello fellow,’ his voice trembled ‘what’s up?’ the monster tottered towards them raising his arms, smiling incessantly. ‘A zombie!’ Paul thought. When he lifted his foot carefully to flee, he found out that he was alone!


The group investigated about the manor in the following days. Everybody told them it was haunted. Someone murdered two decades ago. No one would rent it after that.

The council of war was held. ‘We have to save the neighbourhood!’ Slingshots, a bludgeon and a rope. Richard chickened, so it was the three of them.

Daily, they watched the garden, prepared for the battle until he was there.


Paul hit the head repeatedly, unabashed by the shouts he made. A wailing voice came along followed by a woman hurrying to the spot.


Police and ambulance were called. The place was rented a month ago. The poor boy was killed. He had Angelman syndrome, symptoms: speech and developmental impairment, atypical frequent smiling, abnormal gait and disproportionate head growth.