Devil's Snap.

Hi, my name is Anna. I worked as a photographer previously in one of the top creative company. I enjoyed snapping from anything and everything to nothing. Whatever it is, I loved taking photographs and I loved my job. My cabinet contained my collection of Single-Lens Reflex cameras, from Canon D10 to Nikon D80. I had them all. I spent nearly all my savings on lenses, films, cameras, tripods and everything about photography. But there's a camera that I adored. That Polaroid camera was everything to me. Everywhere I go, it follow suit. Photography was my life and my life was photography. Till one day. An incident I will never forget. It robbed me of 'my life'.

It was a Thursday night. The row of plants by the side of the pavement looked battered tonight. The badminton court was occupied by a few flirting cats. The orchestra coming from the bushes sounded heavier tonight. All the six-legged creatures came out earlier due to the late noon downpour. The paint work done this morning at the bus stop was smeared. Drips of red paint falling from the roof and patches of red footsteps directing away from the shelter.

I alighted from the bus and walked home after another tiring day at work. I avoided the smeared paint on the ground and hopped to safety. I continued my way on Dead Street. I called my area Dead Street simply cause every night after eight, it would be so quiet that it seemed that the Dead occupied these entire rows of houses. I passed by the usual houses and to the route back to my house. It was on the pavement, I saw him.

He was walking slowly with a crippled leg. He moved inch by inch towards the grassland ahead. His dirty brown robe made him look so shabby from the back. He had his hood up and all I could see was a dark figure against the grassland up ahead. He dragged what looked like a long pole on his left. Every step he took, the pole screeched on the wet pavement. He was walking some distance in front of me. I thought I should capture the scene down with my Polaroid but the screeching sound is far too much for this Dead street. So after taking the photograph, I hasten my pace and caught up with him.

What greeted me shocked the hell out of my life and I wished that I could faint on the spot than to witness the whole entire scene. I thought it was so dark that his hood had nothing in it. I mean, there wasn't anything in that hood! There was no face, nothing! I stared unbelievably at the 'darkness' of the hood. I inced back and fell on my ass. My butt was stuck to the ground. I could not react accordingly to what my brain instructed me to. Sitting there like a helpless kid, my hands were trembling tremendously. The pole he was holding was actually a scythe! That of what the Grim Reaper carries! Or was he Grim Reaper?!

He bent down and reached for my polaroid camera on the ground which I probably dropped while I was struggling to come to terms when I saw him. He turned his direction to me. He stared straight in my eyes. I could feel bloodshot in my eyes. I swear to god, even though there wasn't anything in that hood of his, I could tell that his 'invisible' eyes were glaring at me! After which felt like a decade, he switched his focus back to the polaroid camera. He inced out his hand and faced the camera towards his face. Just like how we would take photographs of ourselves, he did it in the same fashion! I was dumbfounded. After the flashlight shone, the polaroid camera released the instant film. He took the instant film and put it in his robe. With that, he placed the polariod camera on the ground where he took it and flew right through me!

After this horrifying incident, I threw away all my photographic equipments. I promised myself I will never touch cameras again. And please believe me, I plead you. I need someone to. Till now, this footage is still playing at the back of my head..

Picture; http://lazygunn.deviantart.com/