The Mysterious Caretaker

The old man in dungarees, his body bent, his face cruel and hard shuffled along a corridor, pushing his way through a stream of students. It was break time at school and most students ignored the old man but a few were imitating his moves or mimicking his words. Two boys scowled at the caretaker as he passed by.

“He’s pathetic,” said one of the boys glaring at the caretaker.

“Yeah!”  He’s pathetic but harmless,” said the other boy dismissively.

In the lesson the teacher sent two boys to get new exercise books from the store cupboard which looked the inside of a wobbly cardboard. Suddenly the caretaker loomed out of the darkness, behind the two victims. He grabbed the boys putting one large hand over the mouths and dragging them off in the dark.

More pupils began to go missing, one by one. All of them who had tormented the caretaker. Some remaining kids realised their mistakes of their victims. Once it was clear to the caretaker that the heroes were starting to suspect something, they became the next targets. The children urgently needed help but a private conversation with any of the teachers was impossible. Without any help all the heroes were picked off except one.

He was walking down the main corridors confidently but realising that he was alone made him more anxious. He stopped when he heard a faint cry and realised he was standing next to the door of the basement. Then he began to walk slowly down the stairs, making little noise. The boy forgot his cautions and ran forward, falling on his knees. His face was filled with horror and tears rolled down his cheeks. The bodies at the top of the pile were his friends.

“Seen enough boy?” the boy spun round to face him.

“You killed them,” he gasped.

“Did I?”

The violins screeched to a final and the words ‘THE END’ appeared in the middle of the television screen.