dead man walking

I have always been drawn towards the supernatural realm. The world of ghosts and spirits intrigued me, and I never lose an opportunity to go ghost hunting. So when close colleagues and friends told me about the strange going ons Vaikunth Shamsan bhoomi or crematorium,I was little amused and quite skeptical about the whole affair. I couldn't help biting the bait. Specially, when the motley group allegedly claimed to have witnessed the going ons. So I I roped in a friend of mine and decided to check the point of no return.
And wouldn't you know it, even the weather decided to join us, because on the evening of our plans, it was storming. Ghost busting on a stormy night wasn't exactly something we had penned in on our list of fun things to do. By the time, we wend our way to the destination, the wind had kicked up and streaks of lightning streaked across the sky. Adding the right kind of mystery and suspense to our adventure. The rain fell in sleets, and the electricity went off as soon as we entered the gates of the crematorium. The dense tress all round the crematorium looked dark and foreboding. All this heightened our senses, and we could feel the chill tripping up and down the spine. And if we jumped up at every shadow and sound that we saw and heard, one couldn't really blame us, could they? After all, we were raised on a healthy staple of ghost stories since our and with hearts pounding with fear and morbid fascination, we entered the complex.
The weather cold and blustery, was certainly not helping us, as the watchman with his flickering lantern escorted us inside the building. Inside the main hall, a tiny group sat around a small fire. We settled ourselves comfortably for the vigil with a steaming cup of tea, and a night of spooky tales. To our consternation, every worker had a tale to tell. There were experiences felt by workers. There were tales of windows opening and shutting of their own accord and bloodied footprints all across the floor. But right, at the moment, the floor looked clean thankfully to us. As we were listening to the tales, a sudden gust of wind gutted the candle. Our hearts jumped from the vicinity of the chest and jammed into our throats as we waited with bated threat. Everyone fumbled in their pockets to find a light. Suddenly, we heard the faint jingling of anklets as if someone was walking past our group. Or was it our overactive imagination playing tricks on us. One of the worker explained, “It is the lady who keeps watch over us. She walks the whole vicinity at night. She doesn't harm anyone.”
Suddenly, I felt a cold hand press on my face. I sat up and noticed the shadow of a flitting lady. However the people at the crematorium were not upset by the experiences. That made me wonder are these incidents proof of an unknown dimension?What makes them come back to our normal life?
As we finally made out way back, we glanced back and saw a woman walking down the parapet. Her saree billowed and there was no wind to lift. It seemed the air held its breathe, and all the sounds of the night, the rustle, the peep and the hoots fell like a terrible crescendo. On the parapet the woman began to turn...or was it our imagination?