The Never-Ending Tower

Ram and Shyam, two boys, were playing cricket in the evening. The match continued, stretching late into the night. Ram hit the ball hard with the bat. The ball flew into the sky and went into the tower. The ball broke the window of the tower and went in. 

"Blow! There goes my new cricket ball!" exclaimed Shyam, sadly. 

"Let's go and fetch it, then," said Ram, and started walking towards the tower. 

"Are you mad?!" cried Shyam, yanking Ram's hand and pulling him back. "Didn't you hear the warnings? Nobody ever dared to go inside the tower. It was an ancient time, and people believed in superstitions. They believed the tower was cursed. Apparently, you couldn't even see the top. Not even when you would go in an aeroplane to see the top of the tower. It just went on forever. But it was considered a superstition. So a man decided to test this, and went in the tower, but never to be seen again." 

"But that's a superstition, isn't it?" said Ram "Who did we hear this from? Our parents. Who did our parents hear it from? From their parents. And so on. All the people heard it from one another, and the person who first spread the word about this got it from what? A superstition. I am not going to let your new ball to be in the tower, and we can never play with it again, all because of a fake superstition! I am going!"

With that, Ram started walking toward the tower. 

"Wait!" cried Shyam "I'm not letting you go in there by yourself. I'll come with you!" 

"Good," said Ram. 

They reached the entrance of the tower. They both looked up, wondering if they could see the top. But it looked like the superstition was true. You couldn't see the top. Ram shivered but did not withdraw as he did not want Shyam to think that he was scared. Just as they entered, the lightning flashed. 

A spiral staircase, spiralling all the way up to nowhere. With thousands of steps, with walls surrounding, dark and painted roughly at spots with blood, all with cobwebs...anybody would think that all this was to scare people.

But, as if their eyes were blind as if their ears were deaf to all the warnings, and all those smears of blood on the black walls, trying to block the images into their minds was all a definition of foolishness and ignorance. Stupidity and thinking that all those countless warnings would not apply to them were sure to be proved wrong, and deep in their minds and hearts, they knew that, but both the two boys were wanting to prove to each other that they were brave and would not withdraw from the challenge of getting the ball from the spookiest tower to be ever there on earth was the reason the echoes of the feet wandered through the tower. 

As they continued walking, onwards and forwards, they realized that, indeed, the steps were never-ending. Walking and walking did not lead them to the top. No. It kept on taking them, on and on, but neither of the boys wanted to go off, because of their arrogance and want to prove himself brave. However, as they continued, they noticed a strange thing. Every eight steps they walked, the number eight was engraved on the step, shining black and old and a strange sense of eeriness was caused by it, in both the boys' minds, filling them with dark thoughts. 

"I can't take it anymore!" cried Shyam at last when they reached the fifth floor "All this, for a stupid cricket ball? My life is better than my ball! I quit! Ram, please, i don't want you also to be here! Something's off, and you also know it! Come on, just admit you're scared. I do. Now, let's go."

"Absolutely not!" exclaimed Ram "Your ball went in here because of me, because I hit it so hard, it broke the window and landed in, so, your ball is going to come out too, because of me! You go. I'll bring the ball and quickly come back." 

"Quickly?" said Shyam, pronouncing it with an echo, vibrating around, with hidden horror "Have you seen this tower! It's endless! All of these floors have thousands of steps, and I am quite sure that we have spent an hour or more just walking up and up. Fine. If you are too stubborn to go because of your own pride, not knowing about certain death, I can't persuade you, so, I'm going!" 

With that Shyam walked huffily away. 

Ram scoffed at him and continued walking. 

"5th floor...6th floor...7th floor...8th floor...that's my goal," chanted Ram as he walked endlessly over endless steps. 

He tried to ignore Shyam's voice echoing in his head "Certain death...", the cobwebs and smeared blood across the walls, the dark eight on the steps, and the warning of all, adults, children, echoing in his head.

Eight floors. He had reached it after walking for 3 years, 10 weeks, 5 hours, 8 minutes, and 32 seconds. 

"What's so scary about this?" said a frustrated, exhausted, panting, angry Ram. "There is nothing! All this, for nothing!"

Frustratedly, he kicked a stone, only to blow off all the lights, and the ground started shaking. 

"WHAT'S HAPPENING?" he yelled in fright, as a pale, deathly ghost came from the floor. 

With a body translucent, floating in the air, eyes, seeing, yet not, a mouthless wicked smile, the ghost spoke with a monotonous tone, relishing the shivers of ram, "You will be my feast, one I haven't had for ages!"

The ghost grabbed the dagger from inside its body, and plunged it through Ram's heart, killing him. The body of Ram fell, with a puddle of blood. The ghost and Ram, and the deathly tower, vanished, into the earth, never to be seen again. 

And, who knows, one day, the ghost might come out, seeking prey, and you might be the first victim to be slaughtered.