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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Mystery
- Published: 07/23/2020
Once Upon a Story
Born 1988, M, from Biratnagar, Nepal.jpeg)
Chapter 1
The Creep
Mr. L enters the room. This room has dim lights, a chandelier hanging at the most perfect spot, right in the middle of the room. There is a long broad writing desk at the north side and a deep sea blue carpet lay at the middle. On the south side of the room, right in the middle of the wall, at a perfect spot, is a widescreen window with grey curtains hanging from both ends of the curtain hanger. A wooden door to the east is painted in deep red while a closet sit firmly on the opposite side. He lights a cigarette, takes a few puff and then rubs it inside an astray that sits on a writing desk, thus, extinguishing it. He uses his left hand to hold the frame of his eye glass looks straight but does nothing and slowly releases his hand. He is the manager of a five-star hotel that was once a prestigious palace to wonder and spend quality time with friends and family but now it hardly gets a full house even during a prime season. Mr. L is married to Mrs. Q, a middle aged but still extremely beautiful lady. She has the looks to die for but hasn't caused any causality so far. Close admirers know her by the name of Madame Q, family and friends call her Q.
Mr. L lights up another cigarette, smokes a few puff. The cigarette keeps on burning as he looks straight at the door. He walks forward while the cigarette keeps on burning between the fingers of his left hand. He opens the door and leaves promptly. The lights in the room keep on burning. Albeit dim, they shine a soothing light in addition to the reflection of magnetic blue light emitting from the carpet. The big wall clock is now the king. Tick tock, tick tock, the thin arm is in a race against time and cannot afford to rest on its laurels. The short hand sits in its place as a master who moves slowly when it is absolutely necessary to. The one between these two seems a mildly mannered employee. Bang, loud sound bumps out as the clock strikes twelve. A new dawn is on the horizon. Stillness gains its place in the room as soon as the bumping clock sleeps even if it is just for an hour. The sound of air and of the street roaming bugs in their hour of light is making the atmosphere enchanting. The door was slammed shut by Mr. L, however, he did not lock it.
An hour sees the light, Mr. L rushes back inside the room. Where was he all this time? The room is unknown about it. For a room is a room that sits in a place till eternity until its existence is bulldozed upon. For it is just a room. But a room is not alone, it has friends, the other rooms, but how do they look, what they contain, this room remains in complete mystery. Mr. L pulls a rocking chair from nearby the closet. This chair sits in a dark place, even the room does not see it most of the nights, and it is that diminutive. Mr. L removes the chain that was untangled loosely on the chair and takes out a cigarette from his coat pocket. This cigarette was inside a package that resembles this room, long and slender with necessary width. He sits on the chair and lights the cigarette, takes few puffs in quick succession. He starts rocking on the rocking chair, the purpose of the otherwise unused chair is now getting fulfilled. The clock rings in its full glory for it is now two in the morning. Mr. L is asleep on the chair, the carcass of the cigarette lies on the carpet, death has come to it when it was supposed to be an ally of death, and this contradiction paints a perfect picture. The room is watching this dance of the devil and it does not want to comment. Mr. L wakes up. There is a cat that is licking its fur. Mr. L seems allergic to cats. This cat is a friend of the room as it gives company where as the human creatures uses the room and enjoys its bliss when with a company, especially an opposite looking. They destroy the setting of the room while they perform an odd looking activity where they both strangle each other in close proximity. Rooms don't do that. In the meanwhile, Mr. L stands up, looks at the dead body of the cigarette and walks strongly towards the door. He takes his black hat and eye glass off, puts them on the writing desk and leaves. He comes back after a few minutes, puts on his hat and the eye glass. This is the same eye glass or at least it looks similar to the one his father used to wear. The telephone rings. The writing desk feels envious of the small telephone table because it is still in social order while the alarm clock on the desk has gone out of life since a long time. Mr. L receives a call, "What? Why? Alright! Is this your final decision?" puts the phone down. Mr. L lights a cigarette, he takes a few puff and throws it out of the window. He pulls the rocking chair and places it just below the chandelier and sleeps while he rocks. The dead body of the previously lit cigarette lies on the carpet accompanied by the ashes, the ashes that were forged out of fire.
The sun seems to be shining in its full glory; birds are making the morning sweet with sounds of their ever lovely chirping while Mr. L is still asleep in his rocking chair. Suddenly, a ray of sun light smears his face and the feeling of warmth breaks his sleep. Mr. L wakes up. He stretches his body, rubs his eyes and looks around while an acute realization passes through his sensory nerves. He puts his hand on his coat pocket, takes a cigarette out and lights it. He starts smoking slowly while he examines his surrounding without any proper focus. One puff, two puff, three puffs, the cigarette smoke is making its entrance through his mouth and make its way out from his nostrils. A through provoking site to behold. The room is watching while Mr. L is busy soaking every possible ounce of nicotine present in the cigarette. He stands up and walks towards the telephone; his left hand is the carrier of the cigarette and the smoke from it is carving out a motion-picturesque setting. It is a blessing that rooms don't have to breathe. He dials a number and waits for the receiver of the call to pick up. 'I just woke up. I fell asleep in the rocking chair. I am sorry. Dilunha, stay on the line.' The line gets cut and he slams the phone receiver down. The clock trumpets, and at the moment Mr. L seem to hate the sound of it. He gives the wall clock a straight eye with a disgusting look on his face. He takes a puff and puts off the cigarette in the ashtray.
After wondering for a few minutes, Mr. L heads out of the room. It is quarter past two in the afternoon and there is a knock on the door. The knock gets vigorous and after a few seconds the knocking stops. The act of knocking, the actual scene from inside the room looks creepy. Have you ever realized that whenever you are alone in a room, you aren't alone at all? The room watches your every activity. It watches the activity of you and your family. It watches what it is capable to watch. A room does not know what is going on in the other room. Its resources are limited. It is five twenty-seven in the evening. There is an anxious knock on the door. The wooden door sounds horrible as if the entity outside of it is in immense need to get the door answered. There is no one inside so there is no possibility of the door being answered. After a few moments of struggle, the outsider gives up. Is it the same outsider that came in the afternoon? Or is it a new one? It is six twelve in the evening, the same style of knocking, and the same giving up takes places. This latest event is similar to the other two incidences in the afternoon.
It is 7:41 later in the day and the phone on the table starts ringing. There is no one inside the room to answer the phone. It gets quite but the quietness does not last long because the phone rings again, and again, and, again then it does not ring anymore. The writing desk has a pen holder with four pens of different colours, red, blue, yellow and pink. A pencil lays at the side of the table, partly blunt. A ruler inserted inside the pen holder. This pen holder isn't a pen holder; it is a cylindrical can playing substitute to a pen holder. There are a few books piled up on the table. James Joyce's Ulysses sits at the bottom, and Plato's republic on the top of it. Few random notes regarding philosophy lay scattered on the table. At exact 10 in the evening, there is a sound, someone is unlocking the door from outside, enters Mr. L, the sound from the wall clock welcomes him. He goes and sits on the rocking chair and says to himself, "Day two in the craven's hut. It is good to be back." He takes his hat, coat and shoes off, unbuttons his shirt and takes out his socks. He heads out of the room and return within a few minute. His hair looks wet. He pulls a cigarette out of his coat pocket, the very coat that he was wearing moments ago, and the same coat that now hangs on the wall hanger. He fires a puff and gives the impression as if he feels relaxed upon his first inhale. He stretches his legs and ducks his head a bit lower. To a soothing mind and relaxing body the amalgamation of light from the chandelier and the reflection from the blue carpet look like a perfect marriage. He stares at the ceiling while he is taking a time out for himself. The index finger and the thumb of his right hand are supporting his tilted head, his legs crossed, mild breathing, and he seem to have a very curious mind.
There is a picture on the opposite wall to where the writing desk is. This picture is a framed picture. It is framed with a thick glass and expensive woods form its borders. Mr. L and Madame Q are in the picture and in the middle is Hulio, their only son, their only child. The background of the picture portrays a lavish mansion. The dedicatedly build staircase, framed pictures everywhere, expensive looking chandeliers and big bright lights showcase the exquisite side of the building. A family of three with immense wealth, an era of prosperity. He stands up and throws the cigarette out of the window. He sticks his head out of the window; a cool breeze splashes upon his face. He stares and pulls his head inside, uses his left hand to organize his unkempt hair. He looks like a man who inside his head is going through a storm with thunder and lightning but outside he shows serenity. He pulls the curtains and goes to sleep in the rocking chair. There is a sharp knock on the door. It is around seven in the morning. Mr. L is still asleep. The knocking gets intense. Mr. L's sleep gets interrupted, and he wakes up. Upon hearing the knock, he hesitates to stand up. Eventually, he stands up and walks slowly towards the door, his walking motion bears similarities with the one who has been sentenced to death and is marching towards the killing yard where he would then be executed. He holds the handle of the door but is still hesitant. He eventually opens it. "Dilunha, I was asleep. Why are you here? I would have visited you later, anyway", Dilunna enters the room, wonders around and finally sits on the rocking chair. "Are you sure about this?" She asks, "Yes, most certainly", replies Mr. L. Dilunha walks around the room and stop at once in front of Mr. L's family picture. She stares at the picture and at the very moment her eyes start to water. She looks completely overwhelmed. Mr. L tries to console her telling that everything will be alright. She doesn't speak. He asks her to stay while he goes out. Dilunha stays. She pulls the rocking chair and places it by the writing desk. She sits down and starts to stare outside of the window.
She is a middle aged woman with nothing special about the way she looks. She has average looks and talks in a normal tone. Late in the afternoon she raises her right leg forward, takes off her sandal and observes her feet. A bug's head pops out. She scratches the opening; the bug dips its head inside. She grabs her purse which she had put on the writing table as she was making her way into the room and takes out a small bottle, inside this bottle was a white fluid flavored with strawberries. She takes a small portion of the fluid and put it right on the opening, after a few seconds, the bug made its way out and ate it. She then takes out another small portion and rubs it on the opening which has more or less turned into a wound. She wears her sandal afterwards and sits in a laid back position. She spends the day inside the room but when Mr. L arrived at 6:15 in the evening, they both agreed to go for walk in the nearby sea shore and have some meal on their way back. They had collected some ornamental shells from the sea shore which they decided to bring with them.
Mr. L fires a cigarette and then takes a few quick puffs. "How was your day? Are the customers staying a little longer these days?" asks Dilunha. "It’s the same old same old.", replies Mr. L as he took a long suck of the cigarette and then released it in a manner chimneys release smoke generated in the kitchen. "Don't lose faith", says Dilunha. Mr. L nodes his head and then says "I think we should get a pair of proper chair or at least a bed." Dilunha says she wants to leave and promises to come back tomorrow. Mr. L respects her decision. The next morning as Mr. L is still asleep a big spider crawls and webs the family picture. Two more spiders join the first one and the three make circles around the picture and then make their way inside a small hole nearby the wall clock that was originally put in place due to a fallen nail. Mr. L wakes up and then reflects. He gets dressed and then leaves. Mr. L does not return for a few days. Occasionally there were constant knocks on the door for about a minimum of three times a day. One fine morning, the three spiders came out of their hole. They wondered around and decided to live in the room. For five days they ate all the fruits from the fruit basket which Dilunha brought the last time she visited. In a few days, these spiders grew bigger and fatter. Since the fruit were all eaten, they started chewing the carpet, clothes and whatever they could chew. They produced eggs and wrapped them in silken egg sacs. A month and a half have gone by, Mr. L hasn't returned back to his room, maybe he did not like living a lonely life. Baby spiders, in their hundreds, now roam inside the room. The walls have become dirty and the furniture too. The blue carpet is worn out entirely and has lost its glory. The curtains tore up at places and the chandelier has become a playground for the toddlers. Mr. L's family picture was eaten by the cluster. The once splendid looking room has now turned into a compound with the skin of dead reptiles and barbed wires lying around without any care in the world.
Chapter 2
The Juggernaut
One fine morning, Dilunha knocks on the door and still no one answers it. The smell from the room makes her suspicious so she goes to get some help. She asks a local farmer who goes by the name of Big Bill to come and help her. He agrees to come because Dilunha told him about Mr. L and he agreed out of respect for the man. He brought a crowbar with him and with the help of this tool he broke the lock of the room. Bill opens the door and the duo goes into complete shock when they discovered the ruins inside the room. Even the door had marks indicating an infestation. Dilunha hurries inside. There were big spiders, small spiders, spider eggs and clusters bulldozing the chunk of wool from the carpet. It was a sight of horror, more so for Dilunha. Bill asks to leave as he felt sick but immediately vomits inside the room. Dilunha with gratitude relieves him of his duty. Dilunha tears a portion of the curtain and covers her mouth because the smell of the room and the vomit were giving a grave smell. She walks around the room and since there wasn't much furniture in the room, she understands that Mr. L wasn't trapped inside. She goes back to Bill and asks if he could help her clean the room for which she will be paying him a sum of $2 an hour. He asks for $5 an hour and says the job will be done within couple of hour. Dilunha asks a package where Bill will clean his vomit along with the job at hand. She promises to pay him $5 an hour if he agrees to her wish. He agrees. Both shake on it and proceed to their work. A grueling couple of hours passed and the room was restored. Bill proposes to paint the walls and the ceiling but Dilunha declines saying she does not have enough money to buy paint and later to pay his wages. While except the walls, the room looked cleaned, one could easily understand that it has now lost its glory. She pays Bill what both agreed upon and he leaves.
Dilunha sits on the now infested rocking chair. She lifts her right leg and locks it on top of her left leg. The bug comes out, it look bigger and fatter than the last time. The opening of the wound has expanded and the dead meat around the area along with semi-dried blood is clearly visible. The bug comes out and walks up inside her pantaloons, walks over her shin, then her knee and gets around her corset. It then marches around her high waist and roams inside her brassiere. After swinging around her neck, it takes a flight and lands on top of her right feet eventually making its way inside the wound. Dilunha looks around the room; there are stain marks all over. The chandelier is at its place but given the condition of the room it looks out of touch. The rocking chair is where it was supposed to be. The window has no curtains, the wall clock has a dirty screen but it still functions. The family photo however is the missing link. She decides to stay for a while and then leave when it's close to sun set and around six in the evening, she leaves. To her, Mr. L now might be a chapter that has been turned over.
The sun sets and an aura of complete darkness shade the vicinity of now lost Mr. L's room. There are no lights turned on, nobody actively lives there. It's around eleven fifty seven at night and there is a sight to behold. A colony of ants is patrolling the room. They emerged from the same hole from where those three spiders previously emerged. Among them was an ant with a big head and subsequently a big body. It does not bear any resemblances with the other ants. Precisely speaking while the other ants were tiny red, this one is a big black muscular creature. It seems to be the leader of the clan, a clan it bears no resemblance with. The big ant ascents the rocking chair and claim it as its throne. The subjects watch over from the floor. No one visited the room for nearly two weeks and on a sunny morning Dilunha arrives with a police officer. She asks the officer to come in. The officer comes in and takes a look around the room. Dilunha explains how he and Big Bill cleaned the mess that the room was in after Mr. L's disappearance. This officer seems to have keen eyes and his name plate read Officer Y. He asked her a set of questions and noted down the answers in his pocket dairy. He explained to her that he had been to the hotel and Mr. L's mansion for investigation after the workers of the hotel filed his missing complaint. "But officer did you look everywhere?" "Yes, of course, I did", replied the officer. Since Mr. L was a well-known figure, his disappearance has posed a lot of doubts. "We cannot say anything for sure until we find either him or his dead body", said the officer. Dilunha opens the door for the officer and waves him good bye. The officer leaves on his patrolling vehicle. She comes back inside the room, locks the door and sits on the rocking chair. After wondering for a while, she leaves.
The big muscular ant was watching the action unfold. As soon as Dilunha leaves, the clan leader crawls out of the hole and along with his minions marches towards his throne. A royal tern flies in and spots this big fat muscular ant. The bird's watery mouth could behold no more. With one stroke of its wings it flies just above the chair and eats the clan leader. The bird then rests itself on the rocking chair. The red minions run in different directions in a bid to save their lives. The bird, now the clan leader, asks his new subjects to remain calm. It does so by not being aggressive towards the ants. The ants, however, did not understand the intension of the new king and ran towards their kingdom. Later, upon seeing a group of ants in the hole-mouth, this royal bird asked for god almighty's forgiveness then and flapped his wings towards the hole. This royal highness seems to be in a festive mood. A chunk of ants got caught in the first grasp. The remaining ran but could not save their lives. A beetle, out of nowhere, tried to play superman thus attempting a rescue mission but gets killed. It was some sight to see, a separated leg here, a separated head with lowly antenna there, carcasses lie in close proximity. Dilunha comes back a week later. Since she wanted to keep the room tidy from now on, she brought a vacuum cleaner with her. She vacuumed the furniture and the floor including the narrow corners. She left after cleaning the room. The proof of a mass murder now lies inside the dust bag. It is good that there are no courts for insects and bugs. While she was cleaning the room earlier, she noticed that the window was without a curtain and was survived only by the glass panes. Two days later, she visits the room and she has brought a new set of curtains to hang. This room was returning back to its old glory. It must be a co-incidence that while she was there officer Y gave her a visit. "Ma'am, we have some news for you. Mr. L has been found." Upon hearing this Dilunha got immensely curious and promptly asked him "What news do you have, officer? Is he alive?" Officer Y broke the bad news, Mr. L's partly decayed dead body was found inside a wooden barrel and this barrel was found near the chimney where they bake bricks. The exact spot where they found it is an area abandoned by hippies. The area was used to lay camps during their travels. The initial investigation showed that Mr. L put himself in the barrel and drank poison. Police recovered his finger prints in the bottle and all over the barrel. They also found a nearly half smoked cigarette. It was of the same brand that Mr. L smoked for over 30 years. The match that might have been used to light the cigarette was found lying in the mud. Dilunha broke down into tears. The officer tried to console her but in vain. "Alright ma'am, I still need to inform his family and the hotel staff. Please stay strong. I believe tomorrow's paper will have all the details." He leaves.
Upon hearing the news from the officer Dilunha could not stop crying. She sat in the rocking chair with a broken heart. The bug from her feet could not resist and made its way onto her face. This bug looks fatter than ever. It licked her tears and kissed her cheeks. Dilunha picked it up and put it in her palm. The bug looked at her face. In the meantime, she raises her feet to have a look at her wound. It was worsening but there was no pain. A thin stream of blood had dried on her outer skin and the hole was getting bigger, at the moment it was big enough to swallow a small pencil. "How would I live without you? You are an angel to me. Please don't leave me anytime soon", Dilunha speaks to the bug. The bug, after giving her a stare, slides down from her thigh and enters into the hole. Dilunha takes the bottle out of her purse and rubs a small portion on top of the wound.
A few days went by, Dilunha did not return. On a sunny afternoon, a couple of men arrived inside the room. A bellman from the hotel brought these men. One was tall and the other was of medium height. The tall man looked older than the other man. He was wearing a black cowboy hat and a black shade eye glass, an overcoat, white shirt, a bow tie, pointed shoes and a well ironed grey coloured pant. The other man was averagely dressed. "We liked it and it looks that there will enough space for us to move our furniture. First, we'll be staying here for ten days and since we are business persons, we travel to places around the country. It is part of our job. We'll might return in some 15-20 days, stay a few days and then head on the road again. Will that be okay with our landlords?" asked the older man. "Sir, our landlady should be fine with your proposal. I will send you a confirmation by early dawn tomorrow." The bellmen locked the door and all three men then leave. This bellman was Finny. He was Mr. L's most trusted employee. However, he was less of an employee and more of a friend. They kept their friendship among themselves and did not lay it out in public. Next day, Finny arrived around eight in the morning and Dilunha was with him. They had brought a truck and few helpers from the hotel to help move the furniture and Mr. L's belongings out. They would be kept in a storage at the hotel. The helpers did their job carefully and later the sound of their truck starting suggested that they were about to leave. After a while, the sound of the truck was not to be heard which suggested that the helpers have left. Finny and Dilunha stayed behind. "So, when is the funeral?" asked Finny. Dilunha looked at Finny's face, Finny did likewise and he could clearly see that streams of tears that have previously rolled out of her eyes. A fresh batch of tears awaits in the lower border of her eyes. Before Dilunha answered anything, both took a slow walk and went out of the room. After two days, at around nine thirty-five in the morning, the two men arrived with their furniture and belongings.
The movers moved the furniture and all the belongings in. They looked professional. Two men, the tenant, the new master of the realm enter inside. Their entrance was greeted by the wall clock which has just struck ten. Their entrance was the most perfect looking entrance in the history of all entrances in the room. Two new men, who wanted to move to a new environment, a new room were greeted with a stroke of time, and their entrance so happened to be a perfect ten. Was this entrance hinting at something? Can things be so perfectly good? Was it a sign of things to come? Was it a mere coincidence? Or was time resurrecting itself? They put down the suitcases that they were carrying. The older men locked the door and then both men started changing their clothes and wore something comforting. The younger men headed outside and then return in couple of minutes. He had wet hair and his face resembled wetness too. The older man light a cigar and the thick smoke of the cigar reverberated all over the room. "How many times I have told you not to smoke when I am in the room? You never seem to listen", said the younger man, the older in reply said, "I am sorry my friend. Let me open the window". The other did not seem to be in the mood to have a discussion. They have brought a small kerosene stove and a few utensils. Since their families were in a different country and they longed for the freshness of home cooked food which eateries, diners and restaurants do not offer, so they have long before decided to cook for themselves. They let the window open and slept after eating.
It was near to midnight, very soon the clock strike twelve and both men woke with the sound of the clock. "Oh, dear! Can you turn that thing off?" said the younger man. The older man changed the intensity of the ringer. Both men slept again. It was around one and the royal tern flew in and sat on the rocking chair. This bird spotted these two men and noticed the change in the setting of the room. It roared intensely as if it were angry that the surrounding it previously knew no longer exists. The roar of the tern woke the men. They both saw the bird rocking on the chair and even though they got frightened in the first sighting, they became clam soon. "It is just a bird. We let the window open and it let itself in. Let us show this bird the way out of this room", said the younger man. Both men stood up and as they were going to make their first attempt to chase the royal bird, a group of terns, a highness swamp inside the room. They were in large numbers, probably in hundreds. They attacked the men, some attacked in their face, ripped their eyes, some bit their ears and some separated their nostrils from their skins. Some tried to attack them in the belly, and a bunch started torturing their crotch. Both men cried for help, but in vain. The next morning there was a knock on the door and no one seemed to answer. The knocking stopped. A few moments later, it was Dilunha by the window, she seemed shocked. She immediately forced her way in, it seems she had an extra key. After opening the door, the first thing she spotted were the eye balls lying around the door. There was blood on the bed and all over the floor area around the bed and on the bodies of the men. Both men seem to have died due to over bleeding. Their face was badly damaged, eaten piece by piece. Small portions of meat lay all over the floor. Dilunha after seeing all this went to sit on the rocking chair. She seemed stressed. At the time when she was wondering how it might have happened and who might have murdered the men, the royal tern flew and sat on the writing desk. It looked very angry. Dilunha did not seem to understand. At the very moment, a Dilunha's resident bug which now have grown into a big fat bug emerged from her foot, the hole now has turned into a cave. It made its way on her lap and stood on Dilunha's thigh. The bug smiled and then used its right limb and gestured the bird to stay quiet. The bird became furious and stared onto the bug's face however it did not move an inch. "Have you stopped obeying? You silly bird, obey your master", cried the bug.
Once Upon a Story(Aciis Khatiwada)
Chapter 1
The Creep
Mr. L enters the room. This room has dim lights, a chandelier hanging at the most perfect spot, right in the middle of the room. There is a long broad writing desk at the north side and a deep sea blue carpet lay at the middle. On the south side of the room, right in the middle of the wall, at a perfect spot, is a widescreen window with grey curtains hanging from both ends of the curtain hanger. A wooden door to the east is painted in deep red while a closet sit firmly on the opposite side. He lights a cigarette, takes a few puff and then rubs it inside an astray that sits on a writing desk, thus, extinguishing it. He uses his left hand to hold the frame of his eye glass looks straight but does nothing and slowly releases his hand. He is the manager of a five-star hotel that was once a prestigious palace to wonder and spend quality time with friends and family but now it hardly gets a full house even during a prime season. Mr. L is married to Mrs. Q, a middle aged but still extremely beautiful lady. She has the looks to die for but hasn't caused any causality so far. Close admirers know her by the name of Madame Q, family and friends call her Q.
Mr. L lights up another cigarette, smokes a few puff. The cigarette keeps on burning as he looks straight at the door. He walks forward while the cigarette keeps on burning between the fingers of his left hand. He opens the door and leaves promptly. The lights in the room keep on burning. Albeit dim, they shine a soothing light in addition to the reflection of magnetic blue light emitting from the carpet. The big wall clock is now the king. Tick tock, tick tock, the thin arm is in a race against time and cannot afford to rest on its laurels. The short hand sits in its place as a master who moves slowly when it is absolutely necessary to. The one between these two seems a mildly mannered employee. Bang, loud sound bumps out as the clock strikes twelve. A new dawn is on the horizon. Stillness gains its place in the room as soon as the bumping clock sleeps even if it is just for an hour. The sound of air and of the street roaming bugs in their hour of light is making the atmosphere enchanting. The door was slammed shut by Mr. L, however, he did not lock it.
An hour sees the light, Mr. L rushes back inside the room. Where was he all this time? The room is unknown about it. For a room is a room that sits in a place till eternity until its existence is bulldozed upon. For it is just a room. But a room is not alone, it has friends, the other rooms, but how do they look, what they contain, this room remains in complete mystery. Mr. L pulls a rocking chair from nearby the closet. This chair sits in a dark place, even the room does not see it most of the nights, and it is that diminutive. Mr. L removes the chain that was untangled loosely on the chair and takes out a cigarette from his coat pocket. This cigarette was inside a package that resembles this room, long and slender with necessary width. He sits on the chair and lights the cigarette, takes few puffs in quick succession. He starts rocking on the rocking chair, the purpose of the otherwise unused chair is now getting fulfilled. The clock rings in its full glory for it is now two in the morning. Mr. L is asleep on the chair, the carcass of the cigarette lies on the carpet, death has come to it when it was supposed to be an ally of death, and this contradiction paints a perfect picture. The room is watching this dance of the devil and it does not want to comment. Mr. L wakes up. There is a cat that is licking its fur. Mr. L seems allergic to cats. This cat is a friend of the room as it gives company where as the human creatures uses the room and enjoys its bliss when with a company, especially an opposite looking. They destroy the setting of the room while they perform an odd looking activity where they both strangle each other in close proximity. Rooms don't do that. In the meanwhile, Mr. L stands up, looks at the dead body of the cigarette and walks strongly towards the door. He takes his black hat and eye glass off, puts them on the writing desk and leaves. He comes back after a few minutes, puts on his hat and the eye glass. This is the same eye glass or at least it looks similar to the one his father used to wear. The telephone rings. The writing desk feels envious of the small telephone table because it is still in social order while the alarm clock on the desk has gone out of life since a long time. Mr. L receives a call, "What? Why? Alright! Is this your final decision?" puts the phone down. Mr. L lights a cigarette, he takes a few puff and throws it out of the window. He pulls the rocking chair and places it just below the chandelier and sleeps while he rocks. The dead body of the previously lit cigarette lies on the carpet accompanied by the ashes, the ashes that were forged out of fire.
The sun seems to be shining in its full glory; birds are making the morning sweet with sounds of their ever lovely chirping while Mr. L is still asleep in his rocking chair. Suddenly, a ray of sun light smears his face and the feeling of warmth breaks his sleep. Mr. L wakes up. He stretches his body, rubs his eyes and looks around while an acute realization passes through his sensory nerves. He puts his hand on his coat pocket, takes a cigarette out and lights it. He starts smoking slowly while he examines his surrounding without any proper focus. One puff, two puff, three puffs, the cigarette smoke is making its entrance through his mouth and make its way out from his nostrils. A through provoking site to behold. The room is watching while Mr. L is busy soaking every possible ounce of nicotine present in the cigarette. He stands up and walks towards the telephone; his left hand is the carrier of the cigarette and the smoke from it is carving out a motion-picturesque setting. It is a blessing that rooms don't have to breathe. He dials a number and waits for the receiver of the call to pick up. 'I just woke up. I fell asleep in the rocking chair. I am sorry. Dilunha, stay on the line.' The line gets cut and he slams the phone receiver down. The clock trumpets, and at the moment Mr. L seem to hate the sound of it. He gives the wall clock a straight eye with a disgusting look on his face. He takes a puff and puts off the cigarette in the ashtray.
After wondering for a few minutes, Mr. L heads out of the room. It is quarter past two in the afternoon and there is a knock on the door. The knock gets vigorous and after a few seconds the knocking stops. The act of knocking, the actual scene from inside the room looks creepy. Have you ever realized that whenever you are alone in a room, you aren't alone at all? The room watches your every activity. It watches the activity of you and your family. It watches what it is capable to watch. A room does not know what is going on in the other room. Its resources are limited. It is five twenty-seven in the evening. There is an anxious knock on the door. The wooden door sounds horrible as if the entity outside of it is in immense need to get the door answered. There is no one inside so there is no possibility of the door being answered. After a few moments of struggle, the outsider gives up. Is it the same outsider that came in the afternoon? Or is it a new one? It is six twelve in the evening, the same style of knocking, and the same giving up takes places. This latest event is similar to the other two incidences in the afternoon.
It is 7:41 later in the day and the phone on the table starts ringing. There is no one inside the room to answer the phone. It gets quite but the quietness does not last long because the phone rings again, and again, and, again then it does not ring anymore. The writing desk has a pen holder with four pens of different colours, red, blue, yellow and pink. A pencil lays at the side of the table, partly blunt. A ruler inserted inside the pen holder. This pen holder isn't a pen holder; it is a cylindrical can playing substitute to a pen holder. There are a few books piled up on the table. James Joyce's Ulysses sits at the bottom, and Plato's republic on the top of it. Few random notes regarding philosophy lay scattered on the table. At exact 10 in the evening, there is a sound, someone is unlocking the door from outside, enters Mr. L, the sound from the wall clock welcomes him. He goes and sits on the rocking chair and says to himself, "Day two in the craven's hut. It is good to be back." He takes his hat, coat and shoes off, unbuttons his shirt and takes out his socks. He heads out of the room and return within a few minute. His hair looks wet. He pulls a cigarette out of his coat pocket, the very coat that he was wearing moments ago, and the same coat that now hangs on the wall hanger. He fires a puff and gives the impression as if he feels relaxed upon his first inhale. He stretches his legs and ducks his head a bit lower. To a soothing mind and relaxing body the amalgamation of light from the chandelier and the reflection from the blue carpet look like a perfect marriage. He stares at the ceiling while he is taking a time out for himself. The index finger and the thumb of his right hand are supporting his tilted head, his legs crossed, mild breathing, and he seem to have a very curious mind.
There is a picture on the opposite wall to where the writing desk is. This picture is a framed picture. It is framed with a thick glass and expensive woods form its borders. Mr. L and Madame Q are in the picture and in the middle is Hulio, their only son, their only child. The background of the picture portrays a lavish mansion. The dedicatedly build staircase, framed pictures everywhere, expensive looking chandeliers and big bright lights showcase the exquisite side of the building. A family of three with immense wealth, an era of prosperity. He stands up and throws the cigarette out of the window. He sticks his head out of the window; a cool breeze splashes upon his face. He stares and pulls his head inside, uses his left hand to organize his unkempt hair. He looks like a man who inside his head is going through a storm with thunder and lightning but outside he shows serenity. He pulls the curtains and goes to sleep in the rocking chair. There is a sharp knock on the door. It is around seven in the morning. Mr. L is still asleep. The knocking gets intense. Mr. L's sleep gets interrupted, and he wakes up. Upon hearing the knock, he hesitates to stand up. Eventually, he stands up and walks slowly towards the door, his walking motion bears similarities with the one who has been sentenced to death and is marching towards the killing yard where he would then be executed. He holds the handle of the door but is still hesitant. He eventually opens it. "Dilunha, I was asleep. Why are you here? I would have visited you later, anyway", Dilunna enters the room, wonders around and finally sits on the rocking chair. "Are you sure about this?" She asks, "Yes, most certainly", replies Mr. L. Dilunha walks around the room and stop at once in front of Mr. L's family picture. She stares at the picture and at the very moment her eyes start to water. She looks completely overwhelmed. Mr. L tries to console her telling that everything will be alright. She doesn't speak. He asks her to stay while he goes out. Dilunha stays. She pulls the rocking chair and places it by the writing desk. She sits down and starts to stare outside of the window.
She is a middle aged woman with nothing special about the way she looks. She has average looks and talks in a normal tone. Late in the afternoon she raises her right leg forward, takes off her sandal and observes her feet. A bug's head pops out. She scratches the opening; the bug dips its head inside. She grabs her purse which she had put on the writing table as she was making her way into the room and takes out a small bottle, inside this bottle was a white fluid flavored with strawberries. She takes a small portion of the fluid and put it right on the opening, after a few seconds, the bug made its way out and ate it. She then takes out another small portion and rubs it on the opening which has more or less turned into a wound. She wears her sandal afterwards and sits in a laid back position. She spends the day inside the room but when Mr. L arrived at 6:15 in the evening, they both agreed to go for walk in the nearby sea shore and have some meal on their way back. They had collected some ornamental shells from the sea shore which they decided to bring with them.
Mr. L fires a cigarette and then takes a few quick puffs. "How was your day? Are the customers staying a little longer these days?" asks Dilunha. "It’s the same old same old.", replies Mr. L as he took a long suck of the cigarette and then released it in a manner chimneys release smoke generated in the kitchen. "Don't lose faith", says Dilunha. Mr. L nodes his head and then says "I think we should get a pair of proper chair or at least a bed." Dilunha says she wants to leave and promises to come back tomorrow. Mr. L respects her decision. The next morning as Mr. L is still asleep a big spider crawls and webs the family picture. Two more spiders join the first one and the three make circles around the picture and then make their way inside a small hole nearby the wall clock that was originally put in place due to a fallen nail. Mr. L wakes up and then reflects. He gets dressed and then leaves. Mr. L does not return for a few days. Occasionally there were constant knocks on the door for about a minimum of three times a day. One fine morning, the three spiders came out of their hole. They wondered around and decided to live in the room. For five days they ate all the fruits from the fruit basket which Dilunha brought the last time she visited. In a few days, these spiders grew bigger and fatter. Since the fruit were all eaten, they started chewing the carpet, clothes and whatever they could chew. They produced eggs and wrapped them in silken egg sacs. A month and a half have gone by, Mr. L hasn't returned back to his room, maybe he did not like living a lonely life. Baby spiders, in their hundreds, now roam inside the room. The walls have become dirty and the furniture too. The blue carpet is worn out entirely and has lost its glory. The curtains tore up at places and the chandelier has become a playground for the toddlers. Mr. L's family picture was eaten by the cluster. The once splendid looking room has now turned into a compound with the skin of dead reptiles and barbed wires lying around without any care in the world.
Chapter 2
The Juggernaut
One fine morning, Dilunha knocks on the door and still no one answers it. The smell from the room makes her suspicious so she goes to get some help. She asks a local farmer who goes by the name of Big Bill to come and help her. He agrees to come because Dilunha told him about Mr. L and he agreed out of respect for the man. He brought a crowbar with him and with the help of this tool he broke the lock of the room. Bill opens the door and the duo goes into complete shock when they discovered the ruins inside the room. Even the door had marks indicating an infestation. Dilunha hurries inside. There were big spiders, small spiders, spider eggs and clusters bulldozing the chunk of wool from the carpet. It was a sight of horror, more so for Dilunha. Bill asks to leave as he felt sick but immediately vomits inside the room. Dilunha with gratitude relieves him of his duty. Dilunha tears a portion of the curtain and covers her mouth because the smell of the room and the vomit were giving a grave smell. She walks around the room and since there wasn't much furniture in the room, she understands that Mr. L wasn't trapped inside. She goes back to Bill and asks if he could help her clean the room for which she will be paying him a sum of $2 an hour. He asks for $5 an hour and says the job will be done within couple of hour. Dilunha asks a package where Bill will clean his vomit along with the job at hand. She promises to pay him $5 an hour if he agrees to her wish. He agrees. Both shake on it and proceed to their work. A grueling couple of hours passed and the room was restored. Bill proposes to paint the walls and the ceiling but Dilunha declines saying she does not have enough money to buy paint and later to pay his wages. While except the walls, the room looked cleaned, one could easily understand that it has now lost its glory. She pays Bill what both agreed upon and he leaves.
Dilunha sits on the now infested rocking chair. She lifts her right leg and locks it on top of her left leg. The bug comes out, it look bigger and fatter than the last time. The opening of the wound has expanded and the dead meat around the area along with semi-dried blood is clearly visible. The bug comes out and walks up inside her pantaloons, walks over her shin, then her knee and gets around her corset. It then marches around her high waist and roams inside her brassiere. After swinging around her neck, it takes a flight and lands on top of her right feet eventually making its way inside the wound. Dilunha looks around the room; there are stain marks all over. The chandelier is at its place but given the condition of the room it looks out of touch. The rocking chair is where it was supposed to be. The window has no curtains, the wall clock has a dirty screen but it still functions. The family photo however is the missing link. She decides to stay for a while and then leave when it's close to sun set and around six in the evening, she leaves. To her, Mr. L now might be a chapter that has been turned over.
The sun sets and an aura of complete darkness shade the vicinity of now lost Mr. L's room. There are no lights turned on, nobody actively lives there. It's around eleven fifty seven at night and there is a sight to behold. A colony of ants is patrolling the room. They emerged from the same hole from where those three spiders previously emerged. Among them was an ant with a big head and subsequently a big body. It does not bear any resemblances with the other ants. Precisely speaking while the other ants were tiny red, this one is a big black muscular creature. It seems to be the leader of the clan, a clan it bears no resemblance with. The big ant ascents the rocking chair and claim it as its throne. The subjects watch over from the floor. No one visited the room for nearly two weeks and on a sunny morning Dilunha arrives with a police officer. She asks the officer to come in. The officer comes in and takes a look around the room. Dilunha explains how he and Big Bill cleaned the mess that the room was in after Mr. L's disappearance. This officer seems to have keen eyes and his name plate read Officer Y. He asked her a set of questions and noted down the answers in his pocket dairy. He explained to her that he had been to the hotel and Mr. L's mansion for investigation after the workers of the hotel filed his missing complaint. "But officer did you look everywhere?" "Yes, of course, I did", replied the officer. Since Mr. L was a well-known figure, his disappearance has posed a lot of doubts. "We cannot say anything for sure until we find either him or his dead body", said the officer. Dilunha opens the door for the officer and waves him good bye. The officer leaves on his patrolling vehicle. She comes back inside the room, locks the door and sits on the rocking chair. After wondering for a while, she leaves.
The big muscular ant was watching the action unfold. As soon as Dilunha leaves, the clan leader crawls out of the hole and along with his minions marches towards his throne. A royal tern flies in and spots this big fat muscular ant. The bird's watery mouth could behold no more. With one stroke of its wings it flies just above the chair and eats the clan leader. The bird then rests itself on the rocking chair. The red minions run in different directions in a bid to save their lives. The bird, now the clan leader, asks his new subjects to remain calm. It does so by not being aggressive towards the ants. The ants, however, did not understand the intension of the new king and ran towards their kingdom. Later, upon seeing a group of ants in the hole-mouth, this royal bird asked for god almighty's forgiveness then and flapped his wings towards the hole. This royal highness seems to be in a festive mood. A chunk of ants got caught in the first grasp. The remaining ran but could not save their lives. A beetle, out of nowhere, tried to play superman thus attempting a rescue mission but gets killed. It was some sight to see, a separated leg here, a separated head with lowly antenna there, carcasses lie in close proximity. Dilunha comes back a week later. Since she wanted to keep the room tidy from now on, she brought a vacuum cleaner with her. She vacuumed the furniture and the floor including the narrow corners. She left after cleaning the room. The proof of a mass murder now lies inside the dust bag. It is good that there are no courts for insects and bugs. While she was cleaning the room earlier, she noticed that the window was without a curtain and was survived only by the glass panes. Two days later, she visits the room and she has brought a new set of curtains to hang. This room was returning back to its old glory. It must be a co-incidence that while she was there officer Y gave her a visit. "Ma'am, we have some news for you. Mr. L has been found." Upon hearing this Dilunha got immensely curious and promptly asked him "What news do you have, officer? Is he alive?" Officer Y broke the bad news, Mr. L's partly decayed dead body was found inside a wooden barrel and this barrel was found near the chimney where they bake bricks. The exact spot where they found it is an area abandoned by hippies. The area was used to lay camps during their travels. The initial investigation showed that Mr. L put himself in the barrel and drank poison. Police recovered his finger prints in the bottle and all over the barrel. They also found a nearly half smoked cigarette. It was of the same brand that Mr. L smoked for over 30 years. The match that might have been used to light the cigarette was found lying in the mud. Dilunha broke down into tears. The officer tried to console her but in vain. "Alright ma'am, I still need to inform his family and the hotel staff. Please stay strong. I believe tomorrow's paper will have all the details." He leaves.
Upon hearing the news from the officer Dilunha could not stop crying. She sat in the rocking chair with a broken heart. The bug from her feet could not resist and made its way onto her face. This bug looks fatter than ever. It licked her tears and kissed her cheeks. Dilunha picked it up and put it in her palm. The bug looked at her face. In the meantime, she raises her feet to have a look at her wound. It was worsening but there was no pain. A thin stream of blood had dried on her outer skin and the hole was getting bigger, at the moment it was big enough to swallow a small pencil. "How would I live without you? You are an angel to me. Please don't leave me anytime soon", Dilunha speaks to the bug. The bug, after giving her a stare, slides down from her thigh and enters into the hole. Dilunha takes the bottle out of her purse and rubs a small portion on top of the wound.
A few days went by, Dilunha did not return. On a sunny afternoon, a couple of men arrived inside the room. A bellman from the hotel brought these men. One was tall and the other was of medium height. The tall man looked older than the other man. He was wearing a black cowboy hat and a black shade eye glass, an overcoat, white shirt, a bow tie, pointed shoes and a well ironed grey coloured pant. The other man was averagely dressed. "We liked it and it looks that there will enough space for us to move our furniture. First, we'll be staying here for ten days and since we are business persons, we travel to places around the country. It is part of our job. We'll might return in some 15-20 days, stay a few days and then head on the road again. Will that be okay with our landlords?" asked the older man. "Sir, our landlady should be fine with your proposal. I will send you a confirmation by early dawn tomorrow." The bellmen locked the door and all three men then leave. This bellman was Finny. He was Mr. L's most trusted employee. However, he was less of an employee and more of a friend. They kept their friendship among themselves and did not lay it out in public. Next day, Finny arrived around eight in the morning and Dilunha was with him. They had brought a truck and few helpers from the hotel to help move the furniture and Mr. L's belongings out. They would be kept in a storage at the hotel. The helpers did their job carefully and later the sound of their truck starting suggested that they were about to leave. After a while, the sound of the truck was not to be heard which suggested that the helpers have left. Finny and Dilunha stayed behind. "So, when is the funeral?" asked Finny. Dilunha looked at Finny's face, Finny did likewise and he could clearly see that streams of tears that have previously rolled out of her eyes. A fresh batch of tears awaits in the lower border of her eyes. Before Dilunha answered anything, both took a slow walk and went out of the room. After two days, at around nine thirty-five in the morning, the two men arrived with their furniture and belongings.
The movers moved the furniture and all the belongings in. They looked professional. Two men, the tenant, the new master of the realm enter inside. Their entrance was greeted by the wall clock which has just struck ten. Their entrance was the most perfect looking entrance in the history of all entrances in the room. Two new men, who wanted to move to a new environment, a new room were greeted with a stroke of time, and their entrance so happened to be a perfect ten. Was this entrance hinting at something? Can things be so perfectly good? Was it a sign of things to come? Was it a mere coincidence? Or was time resurrecting itself? They put down the suitcases that they were carrying. The older men locked the door and then both men started changing their clothes and wore something comforting. The younger men headed outside and then return in couple of minutes. He had wet hair and his face resembled wetness too. The older man light a cigar and the thick smoke of the cigar reverberated all over the room. "How many times I have told you not to smoke when I am in the room? You never seem to listen", said the younger man, the older in reply said, "I am sorry my friend. Let me open the window". The other did not seem to be in the mood to have a discussion. They have brought a small kerosene stove and a few utensils. Since their families were in a different country and they longed for the freshness of home cooked food which eateries, diners and restaurants do not offer, so they have long before decided to cook for themselves. They let the window open and slept after eating.
It was near to midnight, very soon the clock strike twelve and both men woke with the sound of the clock. "Oh, dear! Can you turn that thing off?" said the younger man. The older man changed the intensity of the ringer. Both men slept again. It was around one and the royal tern flew in and sat on the rocking chair. This bird spotted these two men and noticed the change in the setting of the room. It roared intensely as if it were angry that the surrounding it previously knew no longer exists. The roar of the tern woke the men. They both saw the bird rocking on the chair and even though they got frightened in the first sighting, they became clam soon. "It is just a bird. We let the window open and it let itself in. Let us show this bird the way out of this room", said the younger man. Both men stood up and as they were going to make their first attempt to chase the royal bird, a group of terns, a highness swamp inside the room. They were in large numbers, probably in hundreds. They attacked the men, some attacked in their face, ripped their eyes, some bit their ears and some separated their nostrils from their skins. Some tried to attack them in the belly, and a bunch started torturing their crotch. Both men cried for help, but in vain. The next morning there was a knock on the door and no one seemed to answer. The knocking stopped. A few moments later, it was Dilunha by the window, she seemed shocked. She immediately forced her way in, it seems she had an extra key. After opening the door, the first thing she spotted were the eye balls lying around the door. There was blood on the bed and all over the floor area around the bed and on the bodies of the men. Both men seem to have died due to over bleeding. Their face was badly damaged, eaten piece by piece. Small portions of meat lay all over the floor. Dilunha after seeing all this went to sit on the rocking chair. She seemed stressed. At the time when she was wondering how it might have happened and who might have murdered the men, the royal tern flew and sat on the writing desk. It looked very angry. Dilunha did not seem to understand. At the very moment, a Dilunha's resident bug which now have grown into a big fat bug emerged from her foot, the hole now has turned into a cave. It made its way on her lap and stood on Dilunha's thigh. The bug smiled and then used its right limb and gestured the bird to stay quiet. The bird became furious and stared onto the bug's face however it did not move an inch. "Have you stopped obeying? You silly bird, obey your master", cried the bug.
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Aciis Khatiwada
08/03/2020Thank you very much, Winston. Please do check out my other works.
Cheers!
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