Identical twins. A murdered wife. A ghost that won't rest. When Jack D'Souza returns to Goa, he doesn't know he's walking into his brother's nightmare. The truth about Highway 66 will haunt you forever. This bone-chilling horror story based on true events will leave you sleeping with the lights on!
THE TWIN'S CURSE
The brothers from hell
Goa, 1995. Identical twins Jack and John D'Souza were inseparable. Until greed changed everything.
John, the smarter twin, started a business with Marco Fernandes. But when Marco discovered John was stealing, John did the unthinkable.
 |
| The lady ghost was a violent one. |
He crushed Marco's skull with a wrench and made it look like an accident.
Marco's wife Martha knew the truth.
John smiled as he handed her a glass of wine. "Drink up, dear. You'll feel better."
She didn't wake up.
The police called it suicide. John took everything — the money, the house, her dignity.
Then he fled to America, leaving his crimes buried in Goa's red soil.
But the dead don't stay buried.
The woman on Highway 66
2005. Locals whispered about Highway 66 after dark.
Taxi drivers reported picking up a beautiful woman in a white dress. She'd sit silently in the backseat until they passed a certain bend.
Then she'd lean forward, her breath smelling of grave dirt, and whisper:
"Do you know my husband?"
Those who turned to look saw her real face - bloated, purple, with a stretched neck. The next morning, their cars would be found abandoned, the drivers never seen again.
John, now rich in California, laughed when he heard the stories. "That stupid woman can't even haunt properly," he told his new wife. "She's waiting at the wrong damn highway."
But 8,000 miles away, Martha's ghost heard him. And her hollow eyes burned with fury.
Does the right twin die?
Jack hadn't seen his brother in 15 years. When he got the call that their mother was dying, he drove down Highway 66 at midnight to reach the hospital faster.
That's when his headlights died.
A woman stood in the road, her white dress glowing in the moonlight. Jack slammed the brakes.
"John... you came back to me," she whispered. Her voice sounded like dry leaves scraping against concrete.
Jack's blood turned to ice. "I'm not John! I'm Jack, his twin!"
Martha's neck cracked as she tilted her head. "Liar."
The car doors locked themselves. The temperature dropped so fast Jack saw his own breath fogging the windshield. Martha's fingers, blackened and peeling, pressed against the glass.
"You shouldn't have come home, John."
Jack screamed as the stitches appeared first — his lips sewing themselves shut with invisible thread. Then came the snap of his neck breaking backwards. His final thought was of his daughter, Sharlin.
At that exact moment in California, John D'Souza sat bolt upright in bed, gasping. He could still feel the ghostly hands around his throat.
The daughter knows
Sharlin arrived in Goa to identify her father's body. The coroner wouldn't let her see the face.
"Trust me, miss," he said, sweating. "You don't want to."
That night, Sharlin drove her father's car down Highway 66. The headlights flickered. A figure materialised in the road.
"John...?" Martha's ghost whispered hopefully.
Sharlin stepped out, holding up an old photo. "Look closely, Martha. That's my father, Jack. You killed the wrong man."
The ghost studied the picture. Her rotting face twisted in confusion, then dawning horror.
"No... no, I waited... I..."
Sharlin's voice turned icy. "John lives in America. He has a new wife. A new life. While you haunt this road like a stray dog."
Martha's ghost let out a wail that shattered the car windows.
The SHOCKING truth (final twist)
Sharlin smiled. "But I can take you to him."
She opened the car trunk. Inside was a small clay pot — the kind used in black magic rituals.
"My grandmother taught me things," Sharlin whispered. "How to trap spirits. How to make them... travel."
Martha's ghost recoiled. "You're not Jack's daughter. You're..."
"Marco's niece. The one John thought died in the fire." Sharlin's eyes glowed unnaturally. "I've waited 20 years for this."
She chanted in Konkani language as Martha's ghost was sucked screaming into the pot. Sharlin sealed it with wax and blood.
At Los Angeles International Airport, John D'Souza's flight from India landed safely. As he walked to baggage claim, he felt something wet drip down his neck.
The overhead lights flickered.
A voice he hadn't heard in 20 years whispered directly into his ear:
"Hello, husband."
The security cameras showed John suddenly clawing at his own throat, his face turning purple. By the time help arrived, his neck was broken - twisted exactly like his brother's.
Back in Goa, Sharlin smiled as she buried the clay pot in the red earth. Somewhere beneath her, two ghosts were finally reunited.
And they had eternity to settle their debts.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please do not enter any spam link in the comment box