Disclaimer - I, Saya, did NOT write this story and I have nothing against the physically disabled. And I think this story does not intend to hurt the disabled either. This story perhaps involves evil people who happen to be disabled, but not any people who are evil on account of their disability, if you get my meaning.
This happened when I had just moved to a city and started a life of my own.
One late night I was walking home after a staff welcome party at the office.
The apartment where I lived stood in the middle of a quiet residential area and at night it was even quieter with hardly any people on the streets. I was quite scared as I was walking alone.
When at last my apartment came into view, I saw a woman walking down the street towards me. The woman walked with a noticeable stagger.
I didn't pay too much attention to her as she was a woman and I thought I would be safe. I was about to get inside my apartment when the woman bumped into a van that parked in front of the entrance and fell right down on her face. When I looked at her closely she was wearing sunglasses and in her hand was a white stick.
I hurriedly ran to her help and asked if she was alright. She muttered something to the effect of, 'I'm fine,' in a quiet and inarticulate voice.
She seemed to be still in her twenties and also seemed visually impaired. I felt sorry for her because she was walking on her own in the middle of the night in such a condition.
I asked her, 'where are you heading to?'
The woman again muttered something like, 'I'm visiting a friend who lives in an apartment around here, but I lost my way.' And then she said, 'I don't know where I am right now. If you know this area can you help me to find my friend's house?'
I thought it was just natural to help visually-impaired people and said, 'OK.'
'Then please lend me your arm and we can go together, ' the suddenly-perky woman said, and we started walking together.
We walked arm in arm. The woman often asked me questions such as, 'what do you see now?' and she led the way by giving me orders such as, 'then we turn left here,' or 'turn right at the next corner.'
It was very dark around us.
At one point a car drove past us and the light from it fell on her face; I got a glimpse of her eyes behind the sunglasses and she was clearly watching my expression.
That definitely made me suspicious and I began to feel scared about the situation in which I found myself in (the woman firmly had her both arms entwined with my right arm, and I was holding a bag in my left hand).
But I thought to myself, what if she was really handicapped? And I felt guilty about being suspicious and in the end we walked for a good fifteen minutes.
Also the subjects she chose to talk about while we walked were really bizarre and freaky:
"The person I'm about to see is also handicapped," she said.
"He is still at primary school, and he has lost both his arms."
"He has been depressed for a long time, so I decided to knit him a jumper but I wasn't certain what to do with the arm parts."
Listening to her was the freakiest thing that I had ever experienced in my life and I was near to tears as I tried my best to respond to her.
The more we walked the darker and quieter the streets became.
I had even began to think about getting into a fight with her, if necessary, in order to get away, when she said:
'I think we are nearly there. Could you please tell me the apartment's name?'
I told her the name and she said, 'OK. I'm fine now. Thank you.'
She released me without problems.
Oh no! I knew I was wrong! I thought, ashamed of myself.
But as soon as I began to calm down I became suspicious of her again (how, for example, did she know which ways were right or wrong? ) It bothered me so much that I decided to see what she was going to do next from the corner of the street.
And in less than a minute I saw the same woman coming down the stairs of the apartment, with steady, light steps. So I had been right about her all along; she had played a prank on me.
I was going to make a complaint to her, when I saw another person coming down the stairs. The person was a man, about in his late twenties, very fat, and what's more, without arms.
The pair kept looking around them restlessly as if they were expecting someone; and they kept whispering to each other although I couldn't hear what they were saying.
Then all of a sudden the woman began to violently pull at the man's sweatshirt, almost as if she was trying to tear it apart!
The man tried to resist but in the end he got stripped of the clothes and went naked above the waist.
The sight of his naked armless shoulders and a sudden violent outburst of the woman shocked me into crying. It was all I could do not to scream.
I wanted to run away but my legs had already turned to jelly and I was also scared that they might see me and start chasing after me.
The armless man was rolling on the ground and screaming some incoherent words.
The woman then took out something that looked like a vacuum bottle(?) from her bag and started pouring a large amount of some liquid over the half-naked man.
Steam was coming out of the liquid which indicated that it was very hot, and the man let out a hair-raising scream, but no one in the neighbourhood was coming out to see what was going on.
I couldn't stand the fear any longer and ran away.
Fortunately no one came after me. I ran back into my apartment and locked myself in. I was teary and shaky for the whole of the rest of the evening.
I still wonder what it was that I saw...
Has anyone had a similar experience before? This happened six years ago.
There is more to this story, by the way. Would you like to hear it?
After a comment:
This happened at a much later date. About two years had passed since then and I had almost forgotten about it all. One day I was in a department store.
I was passing through a floor to get to the escalator, when I noticed a familiar figure.
I gave the person a quick glance as I walked by and it was the woman.
She wore the same clothes and the same sunglasses. There was no mistake.
She was not holding the white stick but this time one of her arms was missing (or that was how it looked to me).
The woman didn't seem like she had noticed me and she was standing with downcast eyes.
In front of her was a pram and she was trying to do something to the baby with her one arm.
The mother of the baby was looking at shelves and was unaware of what was happening.
I took it all in in one second and in a flash I was running down the escalator.
I dashed back home and I was again in tears.
I don't want to get involved with the woman in any way, ever again.
I was worried about the baby but I had never told a soul about it until now.
I get depressed whenever I think I might see her again somewhere in the future.