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Welcome back, esteemed readers and listeners, to the thrilling continuation of our OBSCURUS saga with "The Drunkard's Warning Part 2." As we delve deeper into this shadowy narrative, your presence adds to the richness of our journey. I invite you to further engage with our story by subscribing to my mailing list and becoming a member of our site. Your comments and insights are not just welcomed; they are essential in shaping the tapestry of our tale. Remember to also subscribe to my YouTube channel for more captivating episodes. Your feedback, be it commendation or constructive critique, is a guiding light in my path as a writer and podcaster. Let's unravel the mysteries of this story together. Embrace the suspense and be part of the unfolding adventure.

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INTRO 00:00:00

Welcome to OBSCURUS, your weekly dose of paranormal fiction. Every Wednesday OBSCURUS features new short stories and serialized novels written by novelist, screenwriter, and voice-over artist Biswajit Banerjee. The realm of the paranormal stretches far beyond the usual horror story. So, while you will get to listen to lots of ghost stories on this podcast, there will also be many tales of lesser-known paranormal themes. To get us started, here's your host Biswajit Banerjee.

HOST TALK 00:00:47

Hello, and welcome back to OBSCURUS. I'm Biswajit Banerjee, your host, guiding you again into the enigmatic world of the unexplained. In today's episode, we continue with THE DRUNKARD'S WARNING. In the first part, we left our senior police inspector in a chilling encounter at a morgue.

As we delve into Part 2 of this three-part story, the inspector's night turns darker. His encounter with Vasant, the guard, deepens the mystery. The morgue's eerie atmosphere unravels, revealing unsettling secrets and supernatural elements that challenge the inspector's grasp on reality.

Before we immerse ourselves in this haunting tale, I invite you to explore my website,, for more on my creative endeavors. Also, visit for all OBSCURUS episodes and exclusive content.

Your support is invaluable. We're excited about our upcoming presence on Patreon and hope you'll join us on this journey. Remember to subscribe to our YouTube channels for the latest updates.

Now, let's step back into the shadows with THE DRUNKARD'S WARNING Part 2. What will the inspector uncover in the depths of the morgue? Join me as we unravel this gripping tale of the unknown. Let's begin.


Written and Performed by Biswajit Banerjee

Vasant constantly warns the inspector and urges him to leave the morgue.


The guard looked at his wristwatch and then pulled out the cork from a bottle. He drank a good deal and looked up at the ceiling.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Why are you asking, Sir? Do you want to file a complaint against me?"

"No," I said with a smile, "rest assured, I will not do such a thing. And why should I file a complaint? I have no reason to file one."

"Maybe you are uncomfortable with my drinking."

"No, my friend, I am used to people drinking around me."

"But during duty hours, one is not supposed to drink. Are you okay with somebody breaking that rule?"

"Well, sometimes we ignore the breaking of rules around us. But I never break that rule."

"That's a sick rule, Sir. No one can perform duties here without alcohol. Anyhow, my name is Vasant."

"Why can't anyone perform duties here without alcohol?"

He looked at his wristwatch again and said, "In another forty-five minutes or so, you will know it all, Sir."

"Sorry, I am not sure I understand you."

"Sir, I suggest you drink some." Vasant offered a bottle of local liquor to me.

"I don't drink, Vasant."

"Then you could be in …"


"Then you could be in trouble, Sir. Sorry, but I guess I must tell you the truth."

"I have not understood most of what you have said thus far."

Vasant emptied a bottle and took off the cork of the second bottle. In less than ten minutes, the second bottle was empty. Immediately, he uncorked the third bottle.

"Vasant, why are you drinking so much? You may lose your senses."

"Who wishes to be in senses, Sir?"

"Well, it's your choice."

"Sir, I have a suggestion for you."

"I have already told you I don't drink."

"No, no, Sir, this is not about drinking. It is about your sanity."

"Again, you are talking in puzzles."


"Sir, what happens here can make anyone go insane. So, I suggest you leave this place."

"But Vasant, I am on duty."

"Forget the duty, Sir. The government will not give you a medal if you spend the night here. But they will give you creeps."

"Who will give the creeps?"

"Maybe you can guess."

"Are you suggesting this place is haunted?"

"Every morgue is haunted, Sir. But the spirits can't have their voices heard in every morgue. Probably, the settings matter. One of my seniors told me that the location of the morgue also has something to do with the possibility of the spirits making their presence felt. But this morgue is one of the many sickening ones that allows the spirits to speak. You can hear their voices."

"If you are trying to frighten me, you are wasting your time."

"What! Do you think I am trying to frighten you? Wait for another ten minutes, Sir. Be ready to hear their voices. And sometimes, they also make themselves visible."


My fear had reached its limit. I had never been more afraid in my life.

"Look, Vasant … you … you probably shouldn't tell me such things."

"The moment the clock strikes twelve, they will make their presence felt. Do you know why? It is easiest for the spirits to make them heard between 12 a.m. and 3 a.m."

"Why are you doing this, Vasant?"

"All I am doing is to prepare you for what will follow. But, Sir, why do you wish to go through all this trouble? I suggest you leave. You could give me five thousand rupees, and I will never tell anyone that you weren't here during the night. Of course, you can return around 10 a.m. before the investigation officer comes from your head office."

"You are asking for a bribe from me?"

"Well, you could call that a bribe if you want. The morgue is a strange place, Sir. Usually, it is the police folks who are known to take bribes from lawbreakers. But in this morgue, police people have to give bribes to the guards to stay away from the horrors of the place. So many police constables have given me money to save themselves from the dreadful voices and sights. You could save your skin, too, Sir. Just give me Rupees five thousand, and I will tell the authorities you stayed here all night."


As I heard him, my fear disappeared. Now, I knew his intentions. This man was simply after money. He was trying to frighten me away from this place.

"I would rather sit here and experience the show," I said with confidence growing in my voice.

The drunkard smiled. "Did you just call it a show, Sir?"

"Yes, I did."

"This show may not be good for your health, Sir."

"That sounds like a statutory warning."

"In just a minute, the show will start. I am eager to see if you enjoy it."


At the stroke of midnight, I spotted strange shadows on the wall visible through the door. Then, voices of all kinds filled the air – from whispers to screams. The drunkard smiled as the voices grew louder. It took me some time to believe that I was hearing the voices of the dead. The whispers were more frightening than the loud voices. Although most of what was audible was muddled, I could make sense of some of the voices.

Please don't do this to me; I don't want to be here.

I will kill you all. You scoundrels, how dare you force us to stay here.

Oh, where have you kept me? Please, let me go.

How long will you keep me here? I wish to go.

Vasant stood up and emptied the liquid of the third bottle into his stomach. The fear in his eyes was unmistakable. Yet, he smiled. It was a strange smile. He seemed to have won a battle by proving me wrong. I wished I had listened to him earlier and left the place after giving him the amount he requested. Then, for a minute or so, the voices ceased. As I stayed frozen on the bench, another whisper emerged. It was loud and easily understandable.

"Do you know who's speaking now?" Vasant asked.

I wanted to move my head but realized my muscles weren't moving.

"That's the spirit of the corpse you have brought."


The whispers grew louder and clearer.

That goon killed me. Is there anyone hearing me? Inform my sister Vinita in the village that I have been murdered. And also tell her who killed me – it is the same scoundrel, the one who ruined Vinita's life. Yes, Abdul. Abdul killed me with a knife. He slit my throat. Is there anyone here? Can anyone hear me? Someone must inform my sister that I am dead. Oh, but where have you placed me? Who are these people staring at me? Please take me out of here. Oh, I know all of them are dead like me. What a torture this is! I am in hell, it seems. All of this happened because of that criminal called Abdul. He robbed my family of our savings, physically assaulted my sister, kept threatening us not to tell the police, conspired with the authorities to keep all his criminal acts under cover, and finally, he killed me when I told him that I wouldn't spare him. Catch that criminal, somebody. Is someone listening to me or not?"

The spirit then began to wail. Many other spirits joined him in the mourning.

"He was murdered, he claims."

I still couldn't move a limb.

"Are you okay, Sir?"

For some strange reason, I still don't understand why Vasant's last words infused life into my body. Like a spring, I stood up and took out my wallet. I pulled out all the currency notes and placed them in his hand. Probably, the amount I gave him was much under Rupees five thousand.

"I … I… don't know … if this amount … five thousand …" I found myself incapable of making a coherent statement."

"Doesn't matter, Sir. Whatever you have given me will do." Vasant put the money in his pocket and smiled.

"Can I …"

"Sure, Sir, you can leave now."


I turned my back to the voices and rushed out of the building's exit door. My head had begun to spin, and I looked for support. The light posts sandwiching the pathway served as a boon. Whenever I felt I would fall down, I held the closest light post as tightly as possible. It took me close to ten minutes to reach the taxi depot. Under normal circumstances, I could walk the same distance in under two minutes.

Soon, I was in a taxi speeding towards my home.



The experience deeply disturbed me. Anxiety and fear that often gripped me after the incident questioned my sense of rationality, and sometimes, I struggled to understand what reality was. The voices still lingered in my psyche. My sickness grew so severe that I had to spend about a week in a government hospital in the psychiatry ward. Immediately after my admission to the hospital, I was reluctant to speak about my experience to the doctors for fear of being branded as a patient with visual and auditory hallucinations. However, I did finally open my mouth. To my surprise, some doctors seemed to believe me, and some simply listened to me with an expression that suggested they knew I wasn't telling lies. Probably, one or more of these doctors had had a similar experience.


Although I was unwell for over a month, during which I didn't go to duty, my daughter seemed to have a great time. Spending time with Tuhina and Sneha proved more effective in dealing with the ailment than all the medicines the doctors had prescribed.

I never quite recovered from the affliction. Even after a month of rest, the whispers were still fresh in my memory. Anyway, the doctors had given me the certificate of fitness, which meant I would now have to report for duty.

"Do you really have to return to duty now?" Tuhina said with her arms wrapped around me.

"Yes, honey, I have to. It has already been a long break, and the government will not pay me a salary for not working for a long time."

"But you are unwell."

"Not anymore. At least that's what the certificate of fitness says."

"It does not tell the truth."

"It says what the doctors believe is the truth."

"But you must promise me never to go to that lousy hospital again."

"Okay, I promise, Tuhina."

As we reach the end of today's spine-tingling episode of OBSCURUS, our journey through the eerie corridors of the morgue with the inspector leaves us at the edge of an abyss of mysteries. The night's surreal experiences, filled with voices from beyond, challenge our understanding of what lies between reality and the paranormal. What lasting impact will this haunting night have on the inspector's life, and how will the eerie whispers he heard resonate in his future?

In the next episode, we will conclude this chilling tale. Will the inspector find solace and answers, or will the spectral echoes of that night continue to haunt his existence? What secrets do the restless spirits hold, and how will they influence the final chapter of our story?

Stay tuned for the concluding episode of THE DRUNKARD'S WARNING. The answers and the closure we crave lie just on the horizon. Until then, keep wandering through the enigmatic paths of our world. Goodbye for now, and prepare for the final revelations that await just an episode away.

OUTRO 00:22:27

Thanks for listening to OBSCURUS. If you like what you heard, please subscribe and visit for more information about Biswajit's books, movies, documentaries, and other creative pursuits. We shall see you next Wednesday with another episode of OBSCURUS. Till then, take care!

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Very interesting and enjoyable episode. Now, I am waiting for its concluding part desperately. Your different voices in each episode especially, for a female character, are appreciable and remarkable. I love the music of OBSCURUS when it starts and ends, as it's so thrilling, assimilating into my nerves and mind-blowing. Whenever, either I do my work or walking outside alone, this suspenseful music always comes into my mind to make me thrilledappy, cheerful and enthusiastic. I am one of your big fans. Thanks with regards, KIRTI, JANUARY 18 2024.

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