The Lonely Soul

You’re a paranormal investigator who collects and researches testimonies from people who’ve lived through supernatural experiences. You publish these stories on your online blog, and someone close to you shared the contact of a guy who told them a story you’d definitely find interesting.

You: Hey, Frank. Don’t ask how I got your number. The person who gave it to me wants to stay anonymous.

Frank: Hi, good evening. I think I know who you’re talking about—and I think I know who you are too.

You: Well, that makes things easier. Can we skip the introductions and what I’m here for?

Frank: Yeah, of course. Honestly, I don’t even know where to start.

You: Start by telling me the moment you think set off the chain of events that led to… well, whatever happened.

Frank: Right. That’s a good idea.

Frank: So… I live pretty much in the heart of the Venezuelan plains.

Frank: Back then, I was around 15. I lived with my mom and some of my siblings.

You: Were you far from the city?

Frank: No, in a small town. Well, it was small back then.

Frank: Behind my mom’s house, there’s a pasture where a lot of people take their cattle to graze.

You: Is it big?

Frank: Sort of. It connects to the back of about 10 or 12 houses, including my mom’s.

You: Got it…

Frank: I was out in the pasture playing, flying a kite—or what some might call a ‘papagayo.’

Frank: Looking for shade under a tree, I sat down right behind the house of a woman who lived about two houses down from ours.

You: Did you go onto her property?

Frank: No, I was still in the pasture.

Frank: That’s when I saw one of those cap guns—the kind that use paper rolls. I don’t think they make them anymore. It looked like a revolver.

You: Did you leave it there?

Frank: No. I thought it’d be better to keep it. We didn’t have much money, and I didn’t have many toys.

You: I get it.

Frank: Right as I picked it up and put it in my pocket, the woman who owned the house came up behind me.

Frank: She said, 'Give it to me. It belongs to one of my sons.'