The Haunting of Monostor

Mănăștur didn’t expect much from the thunderstorm. The massive, communist-style apartments were like a cozy bubble of warmth and safety. A faint sound of manele could be heard by the horizon, just the usual background noise for citizens to fall asleep. The blood moon was at its peak when something strange struck the district. A ball lightning appeared suddenly like a holy spirit, rushing, screaming, but nobody listened. The screams were no joke, however.

The day before

It was a peaceful day in Kendes. Great minds and curious adolescents from all over were excited for the visit of physics Noble Prize winner Krausz Ferenc. The set was ready for him to demonstrate the huge discovery of his nanosecond light beam with huge potential in medical fields and all of science. As he turned on the machine, it began to charge with energy. The crowd watched as it became brighter and brighter, as the atmosphere felt consumed by electricity. It started growing, expanding, and then, and theeen…

Nothing. A second had passed. A minute. An hour. The problem was nowhere to be seen. Disappointed, Krausz made his speech, apologizing for the time and money the city had provided without results or anything to show for it.

The night came. The blood moon was up, and BOOM! A bolt of lightning struck out of thin air as if it had come from underneath. The grave of Morthy Hiklós was glowing blindingly bright. The ghost of Morthy rose, determined for greatness. He rushed to Transylvania to take action in retrieving the holy land.

Juhász Aba, XII. R

As a thin fog settled, across the most unsettling district of Mănăștur, locals began to whisper about the dangers of encountering strangers on the street. Each resident was terrified of giving up the comfort and warmth of their homes in exchange for the ominous feeling of the outside environment.

Suddenly, power outages occurred which caused the lights to flicker. People began to realize that something horrible is about to happen. It was Morthy. He came back from the dead, ready to terrorize people and haunt them for the rest of their lives. He began bothering everyone, from the ones who were dedicated manele listeners, through the ones who made mici on their homes’ balconies, all the way to those who did not care if they offended you by stabbing you on the street.

He managed to make the life of an entire district miserable by haunting them and eating their freshly prepared mici. This kind of act of violence was when the police realized Morthy had stepped over a line. Soon after realizing, the police decided to lure him in with the sound of magnificent manele and the smell of mici and mustard, which Morthy could not resist.

The plan worked out just fine, everything went down as expected. Morthy showed up and started to devour the tasty pieces of meat prepared by the local police. After finishing his meal, he decided to bother the person who he thought was responsible for the manele, which he had to listen to while eating. That was when the police intervened and arrested Morthy for his horrible crimes against the nation.

Lőtei Dávid, XII. R

There was a heavy silence in the office. The major, laying back into his velvet-covered throne contemplated the ominous meeting ahead of him. He lifted his left hand, scratched his increasingly bald cranium and he ordered for the detained to be brought in. The mahahahha doors swung open and a handcuffed figure entered, supported on either side by a police officer.

“Kneel before the mighty ruler!”- the mayor’s accountant shouted. The short and ill-developed man had never seen a person like this before.

“Who are you?” the ruler of the city asked in a soft, tired voice. The city’s populace may have claimed him to be a tyrant, but the mayor was sure of his public image being a leader and wielded it with a firm grasp.

There came no answer. The stranger in a vintage military uniform refused any kind of response.

“Who are you!?” the major asked with a hint of irritation. How could this dandy defy his unquestionable stature?

“WHO ARE YOU!!!?” the city’s greatest man lost his temper. He shouted with unveiled fury: “How dare you disturb my domain?”

The figure looked up, as a grin slowly spread across his face. And finally, he took a deep breath and shouted as a dozen battleships’ horns: “I am Morthy Hiklós, the great rear admiral, the victor of many battles, the triumphant master of a whole nation, I came to haunt you from my early grave!”

The mayor gasped. He could not compose himself, for he was in the middle of a cacophony of echoes, created by the rear admiral. The pressure in his head grew more and more. He shouted a gruesome scream before his glasses shattered and he fell onto the floor, unconscious. Morthy laughed diabolically and flung himself out of the panorama window, never to be seen again.

Rácz Mózes   XII. R