The Blades of Terror
He stared at the electric fan, his eyes not wavering once as he deliberately examined the blades. Everything appeared fine. Greyish and translucent blades that seemed contented to be caged in. Yet, he knew something was not right. He could feel it. He could sense that malevolent influence coming from the electric fan. From the blades. The very source that caused his Auntie Jane to lose her fingers. And now, it stood serenely about 5 metres away from him. A harmless object that was supposed to cool people down if the heat got unbearable.
He gazed at the structure of the fan. A long, narrow body which held the buttons, and a broad base to go with. A metre in height, it was like every other normal electric fan.
He did not know the exact details of the incident, but when he visited his aunt in the hospital, she mentioned something about the fan being hypnotizing, that it called for her to reach out and touch its blades.
He wanted to reproach her for using such a silly excuse, but she had grasped his arm tightly, her eyes all teary and bulging in enormous fear. He had to believe her then. However, his skeptical nature forced him to do a little investigation on the previous owners. What he discovered, convinced him that his aunt was not hallucinating.
The first owner, Mr. Miller, lost his fingers one night after coming home from work. He had rested on his couch - dead-beat from carrying large boxes of computer hardware all day - and was about to go into a deep sleep when he heard a voice. It was very sweet and alluring. It was calling for him, asking him to open his eyes, and switch...