The Song

What a lovely song it was. It never failed to get my fingers snapping and feet tapping. The song was pretty old. Although it was performed first in 1948, I was only introduced to it once I had turned into a young adult a good decade after the song came out. I remember I had heard it for the very first time at the old pub in my hometown. I was sinking down a glass of jack when I heard the melodious voice for the very first time. Some soul with a brilliant taste in music had selected this song on that jukebox. I did not know who he was, but after the song was over, I mentally thanked him. Those were divine five minutes spent with the glass of jack in my hand, and the song on my mind.

The singer of the song sounded so sad. He told us about how he went through great hardships in life : How he lost his parents at a young age, how he was bullied on the streets, how he sang begging for alms. It was a sad song, yes. However, the part that actually hooked me on to the song was the ending. The singer managed to survive through all the hardships and made it in life. It was a happy ending for him. I really enjoyed a good end to every song. As I sat with an empty glass, the barkeeper asked me for a refill. I accepted it. While he refilled my glass, I asked him the name of the song. He told me. Never forgot the name thereafter.  I moseyed to the jukebox, put a coin in and replayed the song. It was a very well spent evening.

Over the years, the song soon became my favorite one. I danced with my soon-to-be-wife on that song on our dates. I got a live band to play it in the background when I popped the question to her. Sometimes I felt that I knew the song better than I knew my wife. Every beat, every tone, even the exact duration of the saxophone solo, I knew it all. I was always quite happy with myself for possessing such intricate knowledge about my favorite song. I passed on the love of the song to my son. He is a teenager now. He has his own brand of loud music he loves blasting on the speakers at home. However, all those times this slow, euphonious track played somewhere in between those other garish tracks, it gave me confidence. Confidence that we had brought up my son right. I have faith that he will keep the fondness I have for the song alive, and pass it on in the future.

Indeed, what a lovely song it was!

It always helps when there is a story to every aspect of you. This song, I never really heard it before they captured me and put me in this tenebrous cell. They keep playing it on loop, every five minutes without a pause. I hear the same thing every day and every night. The only respite from the music I get is when they enter the cell to continue their daily interrogation. I find it amusing to see their reactions when they find out that their music torture has still not broken me. The only way I have remained sane is by building stories about this song. A pub some time, my dad’s favorite song sometime, so many stories I have made up in my mind about why I love this song. I really do not have a choice. I have to continue adoring this song. The moment I start hating it, is the moment they will get to me. This song will never get to me. They will never succeed.

 

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via Daily Prompt: Song

Daily Prompt: Froth

Gini placed her glass on the coaster. The Dunkel in her frosted glass frothed intensely, threatening to spill out. Inu gave her a disapproving look.

“How you can like your beer like this, has always escaped me.”

Gini looked at Inu’s glass. Her pale ale was sitting perfectly, its copper hued body showing only mild signs of a white head.

“Yeah, yeah! I can’t help it if you like to have it in an unhealthy way.”

“Hey! If you are going to froth it and waste so much of it, I would call that a waste.”

Gini lifted the glass and took a deep sip.

“Like I always say – To each their own.”

Inu laughed.

“Are you laughing at my statement?”

“Not at all. Just at your choice in growing facial hair.”

Gini realized she had froth around her mouth. She joined in the laughter. Their laughter was quite loud, but this in no way caused any ruckus, for there was no else in the pub. It was just the two of them and a couple of servers. The dark pub was tailored to emulate an olden Irish establishment. The walls and tiles had a grey stone-finish while the tables were a complimentary shade of gingerbread brown. The setup was complete with a fully stocked bar, displaying all its wares on wooden open-top shelves, and a multitude of beer taps at a ready reach for the barkeep. Maroon-cushioned bar stools completed the look.

“But, speaking of beer froth, is this not where it all began for us?”

“Right you are, Gini. Right you are. Fifteen years ago.”

“Wow! Has it been so long already?”

“Yep! The first year in our graduation struggle. Wait, my graduation struggle. You were always among the top-scorers.”

“Come on, nothing like that.”

“Gini Siqueira – honour student and pride of the batch.”

“Let’s not forget – party animal.”

“Oh yes! That is how we met. You had had one beer too many and were gyrating on the table, much to the delight of all the boys there.”

Gini chortled as she took another swig from her glass.

“I agree. I had had a lot I guess.”

“Totally! And I had to drop you home after you passed out, knocking the whole table’s drinks on to me.”

“Come on, Inu. I have apologized for that. Besides, that is how we met for the first time.”

Inu winked.

“No apologies needed, stupid. I am glad that happened. After that incident, we frequented this place. Our bond growing stronger hand in hand with the increasing potency of the concoctions we drained here.“

“Indeed. But, nothing could replace beer.”

“Cheers to that!”

Gini and Inu clanked their glasses together, spilling the brown and copper liquids on the table.

“That was a hard cheer. We need to be careful, Inu. Lest we repeat what we did after our final marks came through.”

Inu chuckled, but was quick to place her glass down.

“I did not even expect to pass, you know. I hated numbers, and accounts, and all that shit. I just did it because my parents asked me to do it. ”

“Yes, I know. I remember you announcing that they were tyrants who dictated every move you made in life.”

“I said too much, I guess. You know there was a lot happening then. My parents wanted to marry me off. I had my own dreams, I wanted to do a lot before I settled down. They just did not get it.”

“So, you just ran off and came to live with me. Very mature indeed!”

Inu took a large gulp of the beer.

“Come on, I was a kid back then.”

Gini stuck out her tongue.

“And I wasn’t?”

“No you weren’t. You were always the mature one. You were the one who convinced my parents to drop marriage plans. You convinced them that it was okay for me to leave my house and seek my own adventure. Well, all that as long as I promised to call them every day.”

“I may have done that. However, I was not always the mature one. You handled me through my multiple break-ups and problems. Anyone wanting to mess with me had to go through you.”

“That is what best friends are for, no? I had every faith in you that you would become a big-shot – minting money every day.”

“I had to live up to my best friend’s faith, no? I was never as brave as you were. I stuck to the status quo. Worked at those boring 9 to 5 jobs and worked my way up the corporate ladder. I simply walked down a beaten path. You are different Inu. You took the road through the woods. I don’t think I would have been able to work at jobs that interested me but offered no stability.”

“Yeah, I did a lot of different gigs. However, I continued saving up and always worked towards my dream. Speaking of which, I need to get to work now.”

Inu drained her glass and walked up to the bar. She took her place behind the bar. Gini followed her, glass in hand and sat down on the plush stool.

“So, barkeeper, can I get a refill?”

Inu laughed as she took the glass from Gini and refilled it at the tap.

“You can froth it up, Inu. Our journey began covered with froth. Now, I see you have finally achieved your dream. I think we can do with more froth – a refill for my glass and a refuel for our journey.”

“Thanks a lot for everything Gini. I owe you my dream.”

“No you don’t. Your dream is yours and you worked hard to achieve it. I just helped my best friend achieve it. The victory is yours.”

“No, it is ours.”

“Cheers to that, Inu. Shall we turn on the lights then? It is opening night after all.”

Inu had tears in her eyes as she nodded.

“Very well, co-owner. The Frothy Beer has now reopened for business. My dream is our dream now.”

 

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via Daily Prompt: Froth

Signature

I sat back in my chair, massaging my temples. I was tense. It was an important decision for me, one that would shape my future. The source of my tension was sitting on the table in front of me – a piece of paper, the custodian of my coming years.

“All it needs is your signature on it.”

The voice belonged to the man sitting across me. His voice was deep but smooth, authoritative as well as charming at the same time. Dressed in a dapper black suit and red shirt, he sat back in his plush armchair. One of his hands clutched a glass of scotch, which he gingerly sipped from time to time. His other hand toyed with a Gurkha cigar. His entire attire boasted of opulence. He leaned in towards me. His flawless face looked all the more ethereal when the table lamp’s light shone on his face. His deep black eyes looked into mine. He reiterated his statement.

“All it needs is your signature on it. Then, you are sorted.”

His statement had merit. Mr. Olbaid was the top talent manager in the world, the very best. The fact that he had found me worthy of making an offer to, was proof of my talent. As a struggling musician, all that mattered to me, was being recognized. I wanted it all – money, glamour and most of all – the fame. I wanted millions of fans lining up to see me, thronging around me, asking me for autographs. I wanted the world to know me as the greatest musician that ever lived. This paper was the path to all that. Mr. Olbaid could make it all possible. His voice cut my thoughts.

“Dina, my darling. This is a once in a lifetime offer, I gather you recognize that. You have hunger within you, a real desire to be the best. I like that. That is what got you my offer. Do you really want to remain a struggling musician for the rest of your life? You have talent. However, talent is not enough to get you what you want. Sure, you could refuse my offer and try your hand at working hard. I am sure you will get success. But when? After you are old and wrinkly? When you have no time to enjoy your fame? I am offering you a chance to become a shining star, right now. Do you not want to take the chance? I am a patient man, Dina. But, we have been sitting here for more than a couple of hours. I have smoked through four cigars and almost finished my scotch. I am starting to think that your desire is not strong enough to sign.”

Had it been that long already? It was hard to tell the time in this room. It was decorated with antiques and memorabilia – Byzantine Armor here, Hitler’s pistol there. The dark room housed items used by musicians -all artists managed by Mr. Olbaid and his associates. The only time-keeping device in the room rested on my host’s right wrist. It seemed as though it was just five minutes ago that I entered the room, shook Mr. Olbaid’s cold hand, sat down in the plush armchair and gazed upon the contractual paper.

This whole opportunity felt like a dream to me. It was only yesterday that I was performing at the seedy club near my place, performing for an audience of drunkards ogling away at me. I did not mind the attention. However, this sort of attention was not what I would call success. After my performance, a man dressed in black approached me. He introduced himself as Mr. Olbaid and explained what he did. We set up a meeting for today and went our way. I decided to run a google check on him. I found a website. The homepage had Mr. Olbaid and Associates written in large, bold letters that covered the entire screen of my mobile. There was only two other lines written on the page –

You do not contact us, we contact you. If you are worthy, we will find you.

It was impressive and creepy at the same time. Trusting my instincts, I decided to go for the meeting. I had nothing to lose, no body to answer to. Now, as I was sitting across Mr. Olbaid, the same statement rung in my mind. I had nothing to lose. I moved my hand towards the paper. Mr. Olbaid smiled, withdrew a pen from his jacket and offered it to me.

“Please use this pen. You see it has a permanent sort of ink. You can call it a ceremony we follow here.”

I stretched my arm and accepted the pen. It was sleek to hold. I uncapped it, and gazed upon the golden nib. It had some sort of inscription on it, not that I could make head or tail of the red words. I held the pen in my fingers and signed on the paper. The ink was red – blood red. I felt an intense burning on my forehead, as if something sharp had scratched it.

“Good, very good. That was a fine decision, Dina. You will find that you will achieve all your dreams with us. Tomorrow is your sweet sixteen birthday, and starting tomorrow you will begin your new life of glamour and success. As I promised, you will have your eleven years of stardom and eternal fame. And as you promised, you are bound to us forever. Enjoy your life, Dina. Goodbye!”

 

 

The significance of the 11 years : 27 Club

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The Pain

I waited impatiently on my bike at the signal, waiting for it to turn green. It had been a long day for me. I had woken up early, prepared breakfast for my daughter and helped her get ready. Then I had dropped my little angel to school and had rushed back home. I prepared lunch for my wife and had then sped to the hospital to meet her.  Having spent time with her, feeding her lunch, rejoicing in the few words she could muster the strength to utter, I had left the hospital. I had to pick up my darling daughter from school.

The signal finally turned green, and I gunned the accelerator. No sooner had I cleared the signal than my eyes fell upon a ragged man standing at the edge of the road, signaling for a lift. I slowed down and brought my bike to a halt a few steps away from the man. He was well dressed in a fashionable denim jacket. However, in contrast to his colorful attire, his body looked thin and his face looked pale. The beard was sharply trimmed, but his eyes were dull and sunken. He looked sick. I looked at him and called out –

“Where do you need a lift to?”

He barely whispered back.

“Where are you going?”

It was a weird response.

“I’m going to St. Carmel’s School. There is a hospital nearby. Do you want me to drop you en route?”

He smiled at me.

“Sure, that would be great.”

I restarted my bike as he climbed on behind me. His reply did not sit right with me. He had smiled, but his voice had no hint of joy in it. I credited that to the fact that he was feeling under the weather. As soon as he settled behind me, I accelerated on to the road. I could feel his breath on my neck. It made me uneasy. I decided to start a conversation to ease my mood. However, before I could say anything, I heard a whisper.

“Thanks a lot for giving me a lift. I was waiting for quite a while.”

“No problem! I think people should help each other out.”

I waited for him to say something. All I got in response was some more cavernous breathing. I chose to ignore him for the time being. It was just another ten minutes. After a minute of trying to ignore him, I heard him whispering to me.

“Hmmm! So, why are you going to St. Carmel’s School?”

“I have to pick up my daughter from school.”

“Oh, nice! How old is she?”

“Aliya is ten years old. What about you, do you have any children?”

“I have no family. It is just me. It has always been just me.”

I felt sorry for him, but I could not detect any sorrow in his voice. He may have grown apathetic towards his condition over the years. So, I thought it best to avoid conversing about this matter. However, he did not seem to think so. He continued to interview me.

“What about your wife? What does she do?”

“Well, my wife is not in the best of health. She has been unwell and has been receiving treatment. The doctors are positive she will make it.”

“Nice. It is always so important to have people around you, no?”

“Yes…”

“People who support you, depend on you. People who are affected by what happens to you.”

It seemed like he was talking to himself. I did not interrupt. He continued his monologue.

“You need people around you to share your sorrows with. Am I not right, mister..?”

“Sunil. And you are right. You do need people to around you to share your pains and sorrows with.”

The pale man chuckled.

“I am glad you agree with me. I see the hospital is here. You can drop me off right here.”

I brought the bike to a halt next to the pavement.

“Good luck. I hope you feel better soon.”

As he got down from the bike, I felt a slight prick on the back of my arm. I assumed it was the man’s nails. He got off and waved at me. The joyless smile made its reappearance.

“Yes, I feel much better now. I feel as if I’ve passed on my pain to you. It is a good feeling.”

I waved back at him and rode away towards St. Carmel’s.

 

The next morning I woke up and as per my daily ritual, visited the washroom for a face wash. I felt an intense itching feeling at the back of my arm, where I had felt the prick. I checked the mirror. I was shocked to see blood at the spot where I had scratched. I decided to get it checked while visiting my wife. I turned on the morning news. The sullen faced anchor was reading soberly off the teleprompter.

“Viewers who travel by two-wheelers, are advised not to offer rides to any hitchhikers they may come across. The police have received multiple complaints regarding pin-prick AIDS attacks initiated by a pale hitchhiker. Any suspicious activity should be reported at the nearest police station.”

I slumped back into my sofa. The pale man had meant what he had said.

 

He had passed on his pain to me.

Whodunit? Part-2

Bruce sat along with his guests in the living room. There was a deathly silence in the room. No one was uttering a word from their mouth. The guests’ eyes moved back and forth, trying to catch each other but trying to avoid Bruce’s piercing gaze. After Alfred had been declared dead, Bruce had activated the lockdown again. He had made it clear to his guests that no one was leaving until the murderer was caught. His guests had been wise not to protest. Bruce had led them to the living room and asked everyone to take a seat. He sat in his armchair and tried to decipher if his guests were involved in the death of Alfred just by looking at their faces. He soon realized this would not work and he decided to break the silence.

“Now, if any of you had any hand or even a finger in the murder of my butler, I want you to confess right now. I promise I will simply hand you over to the police. But, if I decipher it later, there will be no police and no justice. It will be just you and me, and nothing will stop me.”

L gave Bruce a smirk.

“Mr. Wayne, I understand how you must be feeling right now. But, you cannot hold us here as prisoners, you know.  I can make one call from my cellphone and have the cops come here.”

Bruce looked L straight in the eye.

“I knew that was a possibility, so I have already jammed your phones. You cannot have any contact with the outside world until the killer is caught.”

L held Bruce’s gaze evenly. Sherlock cleared his throat.

“Bruce, there was a lockdown that was initiated here previously this evening. Only you or Alfred could have initiated it, since there is no one else here. Definitely not one of us. Now, Alfred is dead and you would not have initiated a lockdown for no reason. So, we could continue being suspicious of each other or accept the possibility that there is another person in this house. The person because of whom the lockdown was initiated and the person who killed Alfred is still somewhere in this house, trapped with us.”

Shaggy laughed nervously and whispered to Scooby.

“More like, we are trapped here with him.”

Sherlock ignored the comment and addressed the detectives in the room.

“We are all under suspicion here, even you Mr. Wayne. Anyone could be an accomplice to the killer here, or maybe even the killer himself. So, if we work together, we can keep an eye on each other and solve the murder case as well. What say?”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Bruce got up from his place.

“Very well, we shall work together. But, since you know my secret I think we should all be on level ground here. I have been keeping a tab on all of you. Let me start with you Sherlock. Wasn’t Irene Adler just a red herring for Watson? You never wanted him to suspect that you had the hots for him and have been jealous of his wife.”

Sherlock turned a deep shade of red. Without waiting for a response, Bruce continued the expose.

“L, you have been known to aid various police departments in apprehending criminals by solving unsolvable cases. But, you also have cut a lot of deals with the criminals, keeping the truly dangerous ones hidden away, until a case carrying renown turns up, and only then you miraculously solve it and apprehend the ones you shielded yourself.”

L sank back into his chair, pinching hard on his lower lip and gazing into distance. Bruce turned towards Inspector Clousseau.

“Now, my French Inspector. You managed to prevent the robbery of the Pink Panther on multiple occasions, even managed to recover it several times. This made you a hero in the eyes of the French population. But, what they do not know is that it was not you who managed to pull off these feats. There were others who did the hard work, but you managed to steal their glory and take all the credit, taking harsh steps to silence the ones who did their duty.”

The French Inspector began fidgeting with his fingers and turned his eyes away from Bruce. Without stopping, Bruce turned to Shaggy and Scooby.

“You are both renowned paranormal investigators. You claim to see ghosts and communicate with them, this the general populace knows. But, do they know that these ghosts and apparitions you have claimed to see are actually hallucinations? Hallucinations caused by those Scooby Snacks you keep munching on.”

Shaggy and Scooby hugged each other as their shivering resumed. Satisfied with the effects his words had on his guests, Bruce got up from his seat.

“Now, I think we are all in a position to work together. Everyone knows each other’s secrets, so we now have leverage over everyone, and hopefully some trust as well. Let us study the crime scene, there are bound to be clues there.”

Everyone murmured in agreement. All the guests were shocked after listening to their hidden truths. With their masks torn off, they felt naked in the gaze of everyone. But, they found their courage in the fact that everyone was in the same boat, and the only way they could get out of this situation, was by working together. They made their way to the scene of the crime. Bruce was not wearing his bat-suit and knew he could not access it without leading the others to the bat cave. He realized he only had his raw-detective skills and smarts to depend on. His huge array of gadgets, save his scanner, were of no help here. Sherlock took the lead while entering the room. He hated other people defiling the crime scene. As he entered, he noticed the body was lying as it was, but there was something new at the crime scene. A page was lying next to Alfred. Sherlock gingerly picked it up, not to touch the dead body. He saw that the page had a note scribbled on it.

Greetings great Detectives,

I hope you are enjoying your evening in Wayne Manor. I wanted to join in on the fun. So, consider this dead old butler my invitation card to your party. Well, it is also a challenge. I am here in this very manor. Prove to me that you are indeed the greatest detectives alive (for now). You have the entire night to solve this challenge. Figure out who I am, and I shall concede defeat.

Yours Sincerely,

Chuckles

PS- Don’t let your guard down, that would be a fatal error.

PPS- Let me give you a hint – We have met.

 

Sherlock read out the message to the others and passed it around for everyone to read. While people took their turns reading and observing the note, others tried to find clues on and around the body. After looking around for a good fifteen minutes, the detectives decided to take a break. Inspector Clousseau wiped his brow with his handkerchief.

“Eet eez not pozzible. Zere waz no cloo we could find.”

Sherlock shook his head sideways.

“Gentlemen, I think we have been directing our efforts in the wrong direction. Clearly, the murderer is smart. He wants us to play the game his way and purposely left the note next to Alfred. That would mean there is a clue in that note.”

L held the note in one hand and pointed at it with the other.

“This name, Chuckles. Does it ring any bells?”

Insane

“Minnow’s Home for the Mentally Challenged.”

I read from the board put up next to the main gate. Yes, this was it. I was at the right place. I pushed the gate open and went inside the building. I made my way to the reception desk. The place was too quiet. I smiled at the receptionist, who smiled back at me.

“May I help you, sir?”

I told her I had an appointment with Dr. Schmith. She nodded and proceeded to make a few clicks on her laptop.

“Yes, sir. Go straight down the hallway, fourth room to your left, room 101. The doctor will be with you shortly.”

I thanked her and made my way down the hallway. The receptionist had deep blue eyes. They reminded me of Sue. I counted the lefts in the hallway. Four. Yes, here it was – room 101. I entered the room. The room had light azure walls with wooden flooring and light green couches arranged near the side opposite the door. I sat myself down in one of the couches. This place was exactly like my friend had described to me. Minnow’s was a private institution that housed mentally challenged persons and provided treatment. They also provided psychological counseling and therapy sessions. That was precisely why I was here. I needed someone to look into the inner workings of my mind, and oil the cogs that made it function. As I sat in the couch looking around at the room, I heard the door swing open. I turned around to see a man in a white coat enter the room. He had beads of sweat running down his red face. He smiled at me and closed the door behind him.

“Hello, Mr. ?”

“Jones. Good to see you, Dr. Schmith.”

“Very well, Mr. Jones. Sorry, for the delay. I was rushing about today. Too many tasks at hand.”

I told him it was not an issue. Dr. Schmith sat down in the couch next to mine and furnished a handkerchief from his coat. Wiping the sweat off his brow, he peered at me.

“Tell me now Mr. Jones, what has been bothering you?”

I ran my hand through my unkempt hair. People say that I do it all the time while talking. Sort of a habit, I guess. I told Dr. Schmith what was on my mind. How the last couple of months had been horrible for me. I told him how my wife, Sue, had walked out on me to be with some other man. How she had told me that she did not love me anymore and that she wanted nothing to do with me. I told him how those words kept playing in my mind, all day and all night. I told him about me losing my job because of the economic conditions of the market. How my company had fired me right after Sue left me. I told him about how I needed alcohol in me before I slept, just so that I could drown my own thoughts in it. I told him how I felt I was in a deep dark hole that kept getting deeper and deeper every day. I felt depressed and I feared that I was going insane. I told him that I needed help and maybe I ought to get myself admitted to Minnow’s.

By the time I was done my eyes had gone red, matching my flushed cheeks, and a trail of water lined my face. Dr. Schmith handed me a tissue. I accepted it and wiped my face clean. The doctor softened his voice as he spoke to me.

“Mr. Jones, take a deep breath.”

I did what he said.

“Now, listen to me. I understand what you are going through. The pain you feel, the sorrow that is clutching at you, I understand all of it. But, you must understand, all of this you feel, the dark hole you are in, it is all something you have created in your mind. Emotions are the things that make us human, but if you let them rule your mind, you are no better than an animal. Life is unfair, Mr. Jones. That’s the cold hard truth. Let me tell you about Timothy. Now, Timothy is one of the patients here. He was declared insane by the court around a decade ago and was admitted here for treatment. He responded well to the treatment and was let out around eight years ago. However, he realized that everyone’s attitude towards him had changed. He could not take it and he flipped out. He was brought back here to continue his treatment. But, it soon dawned upon him, that the deep, dark hole that was in his mind had physically manifested itself into his reality. Minnow’s Home for the mentally challenged had become his hole.”

Dr. Schmith paused and cleared his throat.

“You, Mr. Jones do not have to make the hole a reality. All you need is to light up the hole you are in, and soon a ladder will find its way to you. You are young, and have many good years ahead of you. Hang in there and you will find the light. Why are you afraid of the insanity, Mr. Jones? It is the ladder that takes you out of your hole.”

The doctor’s words comforted me. I felt confidence enter my system. I smiled at the doctor and extended my hand towards him.

“Thank you, doctor. You -“

Crash. The door had swung open yet again. Five men in white coats rushed in and ran towards us. Dr. Schmith got up from the couch and backed up against the wall. The five men went straight for him and tried to hold him down. After securing his limbs and mouth, a sixth man was called for. He rushed in, syringe in hand and swiftly injected it in Dr. Schmith’s arm. The five men proceeded to carry the doctor out of the room.

I was standing with my mouth open, unable to register the entire scene. The sixth man approached me.

“Sir, are you alright?”

I blinked at him.

“Sir, the man you were in the room with, was no doctor. He’s a patient at this institution, a guy named Timothy. He often dresses up like a doctor and roams around, talking to anyone he can find. I am Dr. Schmith, I treat him.”

Timothy. I mouthed back at the doctor.

“Yes, sir. I can see that the experience might have been intensive. Are you alright?”

“Yes, now I am completely alright.”

I smiled at the doctor and turned towards the door. As I made my way outside the front gate, I looked back at the board – Minnow’s Home for the Mentally Challenged and smiled at myself shaking my head.

Maybe it’s not bad to be insane, after all. The light in the deep, dark hole – Insanity.

 

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Sea of Blood 4

Edwards untied Alain from the bed. He went towards the door and opened it. He looked at his first-mate, Gracht, who had been waiting outside after knocking on the cabin door. On seeing Alain standing behind Edwards, he looked at Edwards quizzically.

“Mr. Gracht, I fear this is no reef that we have hit. Send word to the crew, to get ready for battle. “, said Edwards, giving no explanation about Alain’s presence.

Gracht showed a hint of surprise on his face. But being the loyal first-mate that he was, he did not question his Captain further. He turned and made his way to the deck.

“Alain, let’s go check up on our friend Jach shall we?”- said Edwards, turning towards Alain.

Alain nodded in agreement. They made their way towards Jach’s room. Edwards drew his flintlock as they approached the door. Edwards knocked on the door.

“Jach, are you in there?”

Edwards got no response. He knocked again.

A crew member ran up to Edwards and Alain.

“Sir, Mr. Gracht needs you on the deck.” He said with a sense of urgency.

“We will be there shortly. “, responded Edwards.

He quickly added –

“Have you seen Mr. Jach by any chance?”

“Yes, he is on deck with the rest of the crew.”

Edwards and Alain looked at each other and followed the crewman hastily to the deck. Sure enough, they spotted Jach. He was looking towards the sea. To Edwards, it looked as if Jach almost knew this was coming. His face showed no surprise or fear, unlike the other members of the crew. Jach noticed the captain and Alain walking towards him.

“Ah, captain, I was looking for you. Where were you? “

Removing his flintlock, Edwards aimed it Jach’s face.

“Stow it Jach. I am onto your game.”

Jach seemed surprised.

“Game, what game? Captain, I don’t understand what you are talking about.”

The crewmen grew alert to the situation. Gracht came up behind his captain.

“Captain, what are your orders?”

“Get two men to guard him, right now.”

Gracht motioned to two crewmen standing behind Jach. The moved up next to him, one on each side and held him by his arms.

The ship began quaking again. Edwards addressed his crew.

“Men, we have braved many perils together. It is another peril that we must face right now. In a few moments there are things that are going to attack us. People that dwell in the sea. They are going to be here for blood. I say let’s give it to them. Let us make these waters a sea of their blood. Draw weapons. “

Roused by the words of their captain, the crewmen drew their weapons. Rusted cutlasses, fish pikes, and flintlocks were their weapons of choice. They were all fishermen by profession, but every last one of them, had been tested in battle before. They were no strangers to battles.

Edwards aimed his flintlock at Jach again.

“Mr. Jach, Alain has told me everything about your kind.”

Jach’s face showed genuine surprise.

Edwards continued-

“Now tell me. What have your people got to do with me? Why am I a part of this equation?”

Jach continued looking surprised.

“I really do not understand this question Captain Edwards. What are you talking about?”

Edwards’ face developed a stern look.

“Do not play dumb with me. All your friends from underwater have plans. What are they? Alain told me there is a plan.”

Jach’s face turned pale.

“Alain told you.”

He looked at Alain.

“I get it now. You are with them. You were spying on me. Weren’t you?”

Alain smiled coldly.

“Yes, I was. Captain Edwards, let me kill him now. Before the others arrive.”

Edwards steadied his aim.

“Now Mr Jach, tell me the truth.”

Jach gulped.

“Captain, believe me. I do not know what he is talking about. I only wanted to get to Veluise Islands, which is why I decided to come along with you. In fact, I did not even know the directions. Alain gave them to me.”

It was now Edwards turn to look surprised. He turned around to see a shocked expression on Gracht’s face and long-knife coming out of his stomach. The knife belonged to Alain, whose face had a devilish grin on it, baring his sharp teeth.

Edwards aimed his flintlock at Alain.

“You were the traitor, not Jach. I will kill you now. “

Alain sniggered from behind the cover that Gracht’s lifeless body provided.

“That is an astute observation, Captain. But I fear it is a bit too late now. Kill them all. ”

At that moment, a dozen dark forms sprung onto the deck from the ocean. They had moved so fast, the crewmen had hardly noticed. The deck instantly broke into a battle. The Merfolk and crewmen went at each other with all they had got. Even though the crew outnumbered the sea-men by a huge margin, their larger numbers were easily kept at bay by the amazing speed and skill of the sea-men. It was an even battle.

Amidst the frenzy, Jach broke free of his captors and made his way to the edge of the deck. Alain followed in close pursuit. Alain managed to corner Jach.

“You can stop now Jach. We have you right where we want you. There is no escape”

Alain drew his knife and started walking slowly towards an unarmed Jach. Just after a couple of steps, Alain heard a loud bang, followed by an immense pain in his stomach. He looked down to see blood pouring out of a hole in his stomach. Clutching it, he turned around to see Edwards holding his flintlock, gunpowder smoke rising out of it.

“It would seem you have nowhere to escape, fish-man. “ – Edwards said with a grim look on his face.

Alain rested his knee on the floor, the wound sapping his strength by the second. Satisfied that Alain was of no more threat, Edwards jumped back into the fray.

The battle went on for a good twenty minutes. Bodies lay everywhere on the deck. The dead lay in a pool of blood, human blood as well as Merfolk blood. The Merfolk had been excellent fighters, managing to handle such a large number of people. But in the end, the sheer numbers had overwhelmed the Merfolk. Edwards himself had slain three out of the twelve assailants. Half of the crew of The Titania lay dead. Most of the ones alive had some or the other injury. Edwards ordered his crew to make a hasty turn around.

After the ship had turned, Edwards made his way back to the semi-conscious Alain. He had fallen down, with his back to the floor and had lost a lot of blood.  Edwards reckoned he did not have much time to live. But he couldn’t let him die without getting answers to his questions. He threw some water on Alain’s face and brought him back to full consciousness.

“Fish-man, I have a few questions for you and I am in no mood for long stories now. Make it quick.  I want to know everything. What have your people got to do with me? Speak fast. “

Alain coughed, spitting out blood. He spoke in a breathless voice.

“All you humans are so self-obsessed. You think everything in this world is related to you. It isn’t. The truth is that you were just being used to get us to this location. Jach is one of those human-loving scum. I was indeed spying on him. He had gained information that my people were up to something in the Veluise Islands. He holds vital information about his comrades too. We needed that. So, me and my twelve soldiers, my sworn brothers, decided to capture him and extract the information from him, once he made it here. I gave him the directions to this place. That night, I was truly making sure nothing goes wrong for my men. But you intervened and took away our element of surprise. You, human were only a vessel to accomplish our goals, and we will accomplish them. What you did today, will only delay the inevitable. Your race will perish.”

Alain coughed again, and spit more blood out and lay motionless on the floor. Edwards gave Alain’s body a disgusted look.

“Men, dump the bodies into the sea. We cannot have rotting corpses on our ship. May the souls of our brothers find peace. ”

The crewmen followed their captain’s orders. They said their last words for their friends while dumping their bodies into the sea and following that, they tossed the bodies of the Merfolk. Edwards watched as the bodies sunk into the sea. With Alain’s words still fresh in his mind, he knew he had a lot to talk about with Jach.

The bodies made their way slowly towards the bottom, lending more of their scarlet hue to the blue sea, with each passing moment. The sea soon turned red, sea of blood indeed. The bodies did not sink unnoticed. Hundreds of pairs of red, glowing eyes, peering from the dark marine depths, observed the bodies and the trail of blood left by the Titania.

(The End, for now)

Image courtesy : Rudhika

Sea of Blood 2

It was early morning now. The rising sun was floating above The Titania, bathing it in much needed warm rays of light. Edwards glanced towards the sun. The red ball of light reminded him of the red eyes he had seen in the water yesterday night. They had appeared right next to Mr. Toobak’s body, peering from inside the water. They had appeared only for a brief instant, before they disappeared into the watery depths along with Mr. Toobak’s body, sending chills down Edwards’ spine.

Word of Mr. Toobak’s sudden disappearance had spread fast among the crew, causing panic. The entire night had been spent in calming everyone down, and getting everyone back to their jobs. Edwards was tired already, but he knew the day was going to be a long one. He still needed to have a chat with Alain. After, the disappearance of Mr. Toobak’s body, Edwards had quickly dragged Alain to the Captain’s Cabin. He bound his hands and feet and tied a rag of cloth to his mouth. Leaving the man tied to the bed in that condition, Edwards had gone forth to inform the senior crew about the events. However, he had left Alain’s part out of the story, fearing that it would contribute to the panic. However, now that the morale of the crew had been stabilized, Edwards decided he needed to have a talk with Alain, a long talk. Edwards made his way to his cabin. He entered and locked the door behind him. He turned towards Alain who was still tied to the bed. Alain looked back at him with his red eyes, which in Edwards’ opinion, looked a lot more red now. He removed the rag of cloth. Alain coughed. The rag had dried his mouth, very visibly. Edwards poured some water into Alain’s mouth and sat in front of him, fixing his stern gaze upon the pale man.

“I need answers; now. Tell me what were you doing there at night? And more importantly, what happened to Mr. Toobak? “

Alain held Captain Edwards’ gaze.

“Well, Captain Edwards. Looks like I have got to tell a whole tale to you. Let me start at the beginning “

Edwards nodded.

‘Many thousands of years ago, there existed a prosperous Island kingdom- the kingdom of Veluise. King Veluise II ruled his lands with an iron-fist. Without an heir for almost thirty years, the king was overjoyed when his wife, Queen Melvina gave birth to a child. The king was happy that he was blessed with a boy, the heir to the great kingdom. They named him Mer.  However, the king’s joy was to be short-lived.  When the prince was fourteen, an unknown disease started spreading in the kingdom. The people affected would show certain symptoms- red eyes and pale skin. They would soon find it difficult to breathe and succumb to the disease. People noted that this disease spread through contact or any exchange of fluid, making it highly dangerous. Soon, an epidemic broke out and as the death toll went on the rise, the hands of fear gripped the kingdom all the more tighter. Fearing for his people, the King decided to take extreme measures. He decreed that any person found to be affected by this disease would be tossed into the sea, fated to drown. Almost a year later, Prince Mer while on a hunting trip, came into contact with an affected person. And inevitably, he too started showing symptoms of the disease. His eyes reddened and he began growing paler by the day. The prince was bound in chains and was kept confined to his room. Being a man of his word, and fearing for the royal family, the king decided that the prince should be thrown into the sea, just like all the other diseased people. The King’s orders were swiftly followed.  On a full moon night, the Royal Guard took the prince to the edge of kingdom that overlooked the great sea. The teenage prince was then thrown into the sea. The king himself saw the prince drown under the pale glow of the moon. He had sent his heir to a watery grave.

Or so he thought. ‘

Ouija

It was Friday evening. We had gathered at Simon’s house. His parents had gone out of town . Simon had wanted to try something new , and so we had gathered – Jane , Mark , Virginia and me. I knew what Simon had wanted to try. He had been pretty interested in it since a few days. As we waited in the dining room , he presented to us what he had wanted to try  , an Ouija Board.

Simon placed the board on the dining table. Everyone sat at the table , encircling the board. I hung back. I was really skeptical about these talking boards. I had never once heard of an Ouija board actually doing the trick. But , I still liked watching people making their frantic attempts to contact the spirits with their eyes full of hope and fear. This was exactly how the people sitting at the table were feeling . Simon moved the planchette along the board , along all the alphabets , numbers and even along the yes , no and goodbye markings. The lights were dimmed and everyone was speaking in whispers. Simon instructed everyone to hold each other’s hands. He left one of his hands free to operate the planchette. Simon had been pretty confident about his knowledge of operating the board. He started calling out to the spirit world-

“ Hear me , o those who stay in the realm of the dead.”

No movement of the planchette.

“We wish to speak with you. Give us a sign that you are present among us. “

No movement.

I found it amusing. There was no way any spirit would ever respond to something like this. But , Simon did not give up.

“Just give us a sign. Any movement on the board. “

No movement again.

“ Please, I really do believe in ghosts and spirits. I only want some proof. Please give me some sign. “

No movement, again.

Well, it was hopeless. After a while , even Simon began to feel so. He let go of the planchette and closed his eyes, dejected. The others at the table appeared a bit let down as well , but I suspect they were secretly pleased.

Everyone began to leave and started saying their goodbyes to Simon. I had known Simon for a while now and I did not like to see him dejected. I walked up to the table and moved the planchette from its position to the ‘goodbye’ marking.

Everyone gaped .

“ Hey Simon , I think it did work “ – they said.

Darkness and Colour

The Darkness

The world is a very cruel place. Dark and desolate. Being born in such a world is bad luck in itself. But being me, well that’s just something more than bad luck.

My life is more or less a routine. My existence , a shadow. I go about each day, unnoticed and unheard , without most people acknowledging my presence. I feel at home in the shadows. At least, they shield me , make me feel welcome. People, most of them – sophisticated hypocrites , wearing a mask of civility to pass of as ideal citizens. Living a fake life.  Not even such fakes acknowledge me. Where does that leave me? Friends – I never had many of them. Still don’t. I find that people don’t tend to stick around much. Family ,  I try hanging on to the people I love and people who have loved me and continue to love me still. But they continue to leave me to a life of near solitude. This cold solitude which I have become so used to. A void of silence. Every day, I think of giving up. Every day,  I think of quitting. Every day , I unmake myself and carry on .

For every day, I remind myself who I am. A wraith – who can look upon people without them noticing me. A shadow that cannot be seen unless I wish so. An embodiment of the fear and hypocrisy  the scum of this society feel. A person who keeps the darkness away from the light.  A person who has few people he loves which make them all the more precious. Focused and analytical because of the lack of distractions. Yes , this who I am.

I am Batman.

The Colour

When I was 3 , I was asked, ‘What is your favourite colour? ’  I said Purple . Like the shoes of clowns at the circus.

When I was 5 , I was asked, ‘What is your favourite colour? ’ I said , Black. Because that was the colour which enveloped me into comfort when I was thrown into the dark closet by my beautiful mother and psychopath father. It was as an escape from the present.

When I was 10 , I was asked, ‘What is your favourite colour? ’ I answered, Red. Like the colour of the thick blood that dripped on the floor. The red on my face. The purple it turned into.

When I was 15 , I was asked, ‘What is your favourite colour? ’ Blue. Like the eyes of the girl I first set my eyes upon. Who  haunted me . She would either be mine, or no one’s.

When I was 17 , I was asked , ‘What is your favourite colour? ’ I answered, green. Green like money. It was the colour which ruled the world. The colour behind which humanity was crazed and had unhinged the minds of the people. If you took away the green, humanity would lose their mind. I wondered how that would look like?

when I was 18, I was asked, ‘What is your favourite colour? ’ I answered, Orange. Like the flames that enveloped the lives of people as they destroyed their lives running behind wealth . Orange like the colour of rage in their eyes as they saw that wealth – their life reduced to ashes.

When I was 25, I was asked , ‘What is your favourite colour? ‘ I said , Red again. Like my wife’s blood on my hands. The colour of my rage , on seeing her leave. The colour that covered her after I made sure she wouldn’t.

When I was 34, I was asked, ‘ What is your favourite colour?’ I said, Black. Like the world I was living in. Like the colour of the sky, my eyes and my nemesis.

I think the world needs a hint of colour – a burst of orange here , and splash of red there .

And me? All I need is a good laugh . I am the agent of chaos.

I am The Joker.

Co-authored by Michelle