Tokoloshe

Bongani was delighted. He had wanted a piano ever since he first stepped foot into a white school as a child and heard the sweet sound of music escaping from the school hall, like ancient ancestors that have finally been set free.

After damn near attacking one of the movers for scraping his new baby against the door frame, he finally had it settled in the spare bedroom. It was magnificent. He found it on one of these free classified apps you get. It was an old grand piano, with the most intricate designs carved into the wood. It had huge copper candle chandeliers protruding from the corners of the top, with space for three candles each. It was a little dusty and the chandeliers were covered in cobwebs, but nothing a little polish couldn’t fix. Bongani sat down before the majestic piece of furniture, raised his hands... and then started to play. Oh hell no, he thought to himself. It needed to be tuned too!

That night Bongani struggled to fall asleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about his new treasure. He was planning on searching for a piano tuner first thing in the morning so that he could get it sorted out before Saturday’s family potjie. He wanted to show it off!

Bongani woke up to the soft sound of music notes filling the air. It was so sweet, he could actually see the notes float over his head dripping with honey. At first he thought he was dreaming. After all, he’d been obsessing over the piano for a week. But then he was awake. It was as if someone had thrown ice cold water over his face. The cold spread down his arms and legs. Bongani lived alone. But someone was playing the piano – he could clearly hear it coming from the other side of the house.

Fumbling for his gun, Bongani got up. He slowly and quietly, made his way toward his bedroom door. He didn’t want the intruder to know that he was awake. Bongani took hold of the door handle, and very, very slowly, pulled it down. There was a soft click, as the door handle released the door from the frame. Just then, the music stopped. Bongani broke out into a sweat. The intruder must have heard him. Bongani stood dead still for a while, listing to the sounds of the night, waiting for the intruder to make his next move. But nothing happened. After a good 10 minutes and a near heart failure, Bongani decided that it was time to go and inspect. Just now the intruder decided to take a nap in the spare room? It was not unheard of.

Bongani tip-toed down the passageway toward the spare bedroom. In his mind he pictured the old Pink Panther cartoons, and just like that the theme song was stuck in his head. When he got to the end of the passageway, he saw that the door was wide open – as he had left it. He stepped in. Nothing. There was no one there. Bongani then went on to inspect the rest of the house. After finding absolutely no sign of life, he checked all the windows and the doors. There was definitely no sign of forced entry. Bongani decided to relax and go back to bed. It couldn’t have been anything else but a vivid dream! He checked his phone as he made himself comfortable. It was 03h30 – he had 2 more hours before he had to get up for work.

The grand piano looked immaculate. Bongani had polished it up. He had also arranged for someone to tune it on Friday so that it would be ready by Saturday. He had tried playing it again, but it was so out of tune that his ears bleed. Bongani decided to make it an early night. He was tired after his early morning phantom intruder. As he made his way toward the en-suit shower, he hummed an old familiar song. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it had been on his mind all day long.

Bongani finally got into bed, set his alarm for 05h30 and hit the light. It was a matter of moments, and he was out.

Bongani felt like he’d only just fallen asleep when he woke up again, to the sound of someone playing the damn piano. He shot up and listened. He was wide awake, he was sure of it, and could clearly hear the piano being played. To be sure, Bongani pinched himself. Yes, he was certainly awake. Bongani got up. He didn’t even bother reaching for his gun. This time, he was sure that someone was messing with him on purpose. When Bongani opened his bedroom door, the music stopped. He marched down the passageway and into the spare room. Again, nothing. Bongani searched the whole house and all the doors and windows, and still, no sign of entry. After checking the time and seeing that it was 03h10, he decided to go back to bed. Maybe he was dreaming. After all, the music he woke up to was pitch perfect, unlike his piano.

By morning, Bongani was dog tired. He decided that he’d get some sleeping pills during his lunch time, so that he could ensure at least one good night’s rest for the week.

Bongani woke up. He looked at the time. It was 03h00. He drank the sleeping pills before bed, but still woke up to the sound of the piano being played. Bongani decided to sit up in bed and listen. Listen to how long the piano playing would continue. Listen for the sound of a cracking door or window. Listen for footsteps. Bongani eventually started to dose off. He woke up with a jerk. The piano was still playing. He checked and saw that it was 04h00. The piano had been playing for a full hour. Bongani got up. As soon as he opened his bedroom door, the music stopped. After checking the house and again, seeing that no one was there, he went back to bed.

Again, Bongani was dog tired at work. After discussing the bizarre matter with a co-worker, it was noted that the music always stops playing the moment that Bongani opens his bedroom door. Either this is for the intruder to ensure that he/she has enough time to escape, or, there is some sort of recorder linked to his door. That night Bongani decided to sleep with his door open. That night, Bongani got a decent night’s sleep.

The next day it drove Bongani crazy. He couldn’t figure out how the music, which on previous nights genuinely sounded as though it were coming from his spare room, was somehow linked to his door. It was Thursday already, and by Friday night, the piano would be tuned. He felt as though he needed to solve the mystery before then, as the piano he heard was pitch perfect. After discussing his dilemma with his trusty ol’ co-worker, it was decided that he would hook cameras up in his house to record through the night, like in those horror movies.

Bongani arranged to get off work a little earlier so that he could set the cameras up. He set two up in the passageway, one facing his bedroom door and the other facing the spare room. He also placed one in the spare room with a direct view of the piano.

That night, Bongani struggled to fall asleep again. The anticipation was just too much to bare, but before long, he was out.

True as Bob, Bongani woke up at 03h00 on the dot, with the piano playing. He waited a while – he wanted to ensure that he got as much evidence as possible on the cameras first. He then got up, and walked toward his bedroom door. He slowly lifted his hand, hovering it above the door handle. The music didn’t stop. When he opened the door, the music was gone. Bongani didn’t even bother checking the house. He closed the door and went back to bed, knowing that he would solve the mystery in the morning when he checked the cameras out.

Bongani woke up, dog tired. He grabbed his laptop where the recordings were stored and headed off to work. He had the intention of going through the footage with his co-worker, but it was such a hectic day at the office, that they just never got to it. 

When Bongani finally got home, he sat the laptop down on the kitchen counter and had a look. He forwarded the video to 02h55, as he always woke up at 03h00. 4 minutes and 50 seconds went by with absolutely nothing happening. But then he noticed something happening in the spare room. He minimised the other cameras and opened the spare room camera to full screen. He rewinded it so that he could see it again.

Bongani could feel the blood drain from his face; a little black hand emerged from under the bed in the spare room, shortly followed by another. Finally a little black head popped out. Shining from its eye sockets like burning embers, were two large red eyes. The creature then stood up. It was no taller than a 2l coke bottle. It was grinning; its sharp white teeth stood out in contrast to its ashy black appearance. It then pulled itself up onto the piano stool, and started to play.

Bongani shut the laptop, he didn’t want to see anymore, but it was too late. The lights went out. Bongani pulled his phone out of his pocket to use for light. When he turned the flashlight app on, he saw that it was shining directly in the Tokoloshe’s face! It let out a shrill scream before lunging itself at him. Bongani screamed as he fell to the floor. The Tokoloshe sat on his chest, its face inches from his. Bongani couldn’t move. The little creature was as heavy as an elephant. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the Tokoloshe’s huge red eyes. It was as if the Tokoloshe had hypnotised him. The Tokoloshe then put his lips to Bongani’s and started to suck. A clear white mist escaped Bongani’s mouth and went into the Tokoloshe. Bongani started to panic; he could feel himself lose consciousness. Not in the way one does when falling asleep, but rather, as if his soul were being severed from his body.  Bongani tried to gasp for air, but instead, the Tokoloshe stole his last breath.

It was over. Bongani would not be playing the piano at Saturday's family potjie. No, he'd be joining his family's board of ancestors instead...