The Stranger

It was 11 at night. The street was dead silent apart from the occasional rustling of leaves on the pavement. Mr. Arthur Dopplehanger was upstairs preparing for bed. "Ding! Dong!" rang the bell three times. "Ugh! Who's there at this time of the night?" said Mr. Dopplehanger to himself, frustrated. His day had not been good—he had lost his job.

He admired the metallic-coloured door of his house. He liked metallic colours.

The moment he opened the door, the wind started howling like a wolf! There was dust coming into his eyes—He couldn't see properly. But he knew one thing from his instincts—the person at the door was not someone he knew—the person at the door was a stranger. His legs were jelly. He couldn't move, for he wanted to lock himself in. He saw the stranger approaching him. Near. Nearer.

Mr. Dopplehanger was dead scared at that time. He felt he was in a horror movie. He felt that he was about to be murdered, for that was what happened in movies when there was something like this.

Then he saw the utmost thing of importance—a dagger in the hands of the creepy stranger. The handle was yellow, and it looked like the weapon was made in Great Britain in 1936. The blade was so sharp that it could cut through human flesh even when a 4-year-old was using it. Mr. Dopplehanger recognised that dagger—he had sold that to Mr. Conderson when he was travelling through India in the 1960s. That dagger had belonged to his grandfather. And here he was, most probably going to get murdered by the stranger.

Mr Dopplehanger was scared, very scared. He slammed the door, but it was not he who slammed the door—it was his wife who came from behind.

"Who was that, Arthur?" said Mrs. Dopplehanger to her husband.

"I-I do not know Brenda," said Dopplehanger, his voice cracking and heart beating faster than ever. He was on the verge of death! He was about to die!

"You do not know who he was? He was Shaun, the brother of Nariska Thames, whom you murdered. He was here to murder you, you fool. He had a dagger in his hand."

"But that dagger was the same one I sold to Conderson."

"How? Conderson would never try to murder you. You were good friends. You had a lot in common, and I saw it was Nariska's brother."

"I did murder Nariska, but I did nothing wrong. She was a criminal. She had taken the lives of thousands of people."

"Right now, what we have to focus on is how Shaun got the dagger from Conderson."

"Maybe they both were friends," Mr. Dopplehanger suggested.

"Could be."

"Maybe Shaun murdered Conderson, too."

"Why don't you phone Conderson. Tell him it's an emergency."

"At this time of the night?"

"Yes."

Mr. Dopplehanger walked towards the telephone and called Mr.Conderson.

"Allô, Conderason," said Mr. Dopplehanger.

"Why did you call me at this time of the night, Dopplehanger?"

"I wanted to ask you that is the dagger I sold to you missing?"

"Oui, it was stolen. I think."

"I saw it today." Mr Dopplehanger explained everything that occurred at the door."

"A very bad thing happened to you," said Mr. Conderson.

After the call, the couple went to sleep.

At around 4, Mrs. Dopplehanger went downstairs for water. She turned on the kitchen lights, but saw something unusual—a figure lurking behind the window. She ignored it at first, but out of curiosity, she went to check. She took her head out of the window, and at the same second, a person lodged a dagger into her through. Dead! Murdered in cold blood!

The murderer laughed. This is what you get for killing my sister.

The murderer climbed in from the window into the house.

Then he went upstairs to murder Mr. Dopplehanger.

He tiptoed into the bedroom and saw that there was a gun kept beside Mr. Dopplehanger.

He thought about how to make the murder look deceiving. He thought and thought and arrived at a conclusion.

He walked towards Dopplehanger from the side of the bed, clutching the dagger tightly in his hands. "Chik!" "Chik!" "Chik!" "Chik!" "Chik!" "Chik!" "Chik!" "Chik!" "Chik!" "Chik!" "Chik!" "Chik!" He stabbed the poor victim twelve times in the heart.

He then took the gun from the bedside table and fired six shots at the head, all in a different place.. "Bang." "Bang." "Bang." "Bang." "Bang." "Bang."

The murderer then went downstairs and telephoned the police to inform them of a murder. He hid all the weapons used to murder in a bush.

The police came a while later.

They asked the murderer what happened. The murderer said, "I was sleeping when I heard gunshots. I quickly exited my room and went around the house to see if anyone was there. I saw the dead body of my mother, and then I went upstairs only to find father was also murdered."

Till here, all of you readers would think the murderer is Shaun, but it is I, the son of the Dopplehangers. The police will never know.