by Neil D'Silva
Karan smiled at the cunning roommate of hers who was just fooling this innocent girl. Judging by the books and the mandir in the room, Prerna seemed like the kind of girl who liked her peace in the room and that included no noise from the TV. And, unfortunately for her, the maintenance guy blew her ruse of the broken TV.
“So Diya wasn’t lying to prove her point after all,” Karan thought, happy at the discovery.
“Why don’t you go to the balcony and I will bring over the tea when it’s ready,” Diya said, heading back to the kitchen.
Karan stepped outside onto the balcony. It was a pleasant evening with a cool breeze sifting through the lush green tree of her building compound. Soon Diya joined him and they sipped the hot tea while watching the sun glimmer above the opposite building. Karan was pleased every time he could make Diya laugh at his silly jokes. They stood there with empty cups in their hands for a long time.
The sound of someone unlocking the door from outside interrupted their conversation. Noticing the worried expression on Diya’s face, Karan asked, “What’s wrong? Who is it?”
Before Diya could answer, the door opened and a young lady walked in with a grocery bag.
“Prerna? If you were outside, who was showering in the bathroom then?” Diya asked, her mesmerizing eyes now wide with shock.
They stared at the closed door of the bathroom. There wasn’t any noise coming from inside anymore. Karan had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach because he had definitely heard someone splashing water inside before. Ignoring his increasing heartbeat, he cleared his throat and said, “Let me check.”
When he opened the door, a swift of moist air hit his face. Clearing his spectacles off the mist, he poked his head in and looked around the empty bathroom. There was water on the floor and mist in the air, indicating that someone had been taking a hot shower in there not long ago.
Karan’s eyes met Diya’s shocked ones and they stood staring at each other silently.
***
“We appreciate the contributions from everyone in the company. The fire had destroyed everything we owned. Now with the help of the insurance money and the generous contributions, we will be able to settle down in another flat soon. Thank you once again for standing with us during these testing times,” Diya said before handing over the microphone to her senior.
Along with Prerna, she stepped down from the platform and joined the crowd. They had been receiving warm sympathy and support from everyone ever since the fire destroyed their flat a week ago. The investigators from the insurance company were unable to find the cause of the fire but they would soon proceed with the paperwork and pay the amount to Prerna, who owned the flat. Meanwhile, Karan had been kind enough to let them stay at his flat until they could settle down in a new place.
“I don’t know what we would have done if it weren’t for you,” Diya said to Karan while they were having dinner together at his flat that night.
Prerna chipped in, “Yes, thank you so much for letting us live here for a few days.”
“It was the least I could do. I still can’t believe that you guys lost everything in that fire,” Karan said, shaking his head.
“The whole place comes back to my mind when I close my eyes.” Diya sighed. “My jewellery, my degrees and certificates, all the important documents… my expensive dresses and shoes. Nothing could be saved.”
Prerna added, “My TV, refrigerator, washing machine… All my idols and books too.”
Karan looked at her with narrowed eyes. He could smell something fishy about Diya’s roommate from day one. And the insurance claim gave him more reasons to believe that Prerna wasn’t as innocent as she seemed. And poor Diya had to suffer because of her.
“Thank God you arrived in time and could get the gas cylinder out somehow. Otherwise, the fire would have blown up the other flats around us too.” Diya said, horror widening her sea-green eyes.
“Nah, the spirit just wanted to wipe out our flat. We were encroaching its space and because of my religious chants every day and the mandir in our room, it could not coexist in that space with us. That’s why it drove us out by lighting that fire,” Prerna explained.
“What rubbish! How can you believe this nonsense after being so educated?” Karan asked, turning to Diya for validation. Upon seeing her bite her lower lip in hesitation, he exclaimed, “You can’t be serious about this. You believe this nonsense too?”
“Shh Karan. Even if you don’t believe in paranormal stuff, at least don’t say anything negative about it. You never know who you could end up offending,” Prerna warned him in a hushed tone.
Karan felt exasperated and he simply got up with his empty plate and went to the kitchen. Diya joined him soon and helped him with the dirty dishes in silence. Later on when Prerna fell asleep on the couch of the living area, Diya motioned Karan to join her on the balcony. “You have got to stop opposing the supernatural elements. Prerna was right. What’s the use of mocking it even if you don’t believe it. Just let it go. Stay silent whenever the topic comes up.”
“How can you be so naïve, Diya?” Karan asked, looking in her eyes. A lock of hair escaped from behind her ear and swayed in the wind. He wanted to reach out and tuck it back like they showed in the movies. This thought made him realise how close they were standing. Should he lean in to kiss? Their first kiss out on the balcony with the wind blowing her hair. It was picture perfect. But then he remembered Prerna and his libido dropped.
Even though it killed him to do so, he stepped away from Diya. Clearing his throat, Karan said, “It’s late. Let’s go back in.”
***
“I have to confront her,” Karan decided when it was too much to handle. It had been two days since that dinner of disagreement with Prerna, and every day since then Karan found erratic disturbances in his flat. Once he found all the lying on the floor of the kitchen. Although he found it odd that his guests would do this, he had brushed it aside as Prerna’s or Diya’s forgetfulness. Maybe they were searching for something in the kitchen and couldn’t find it.
The other day he came back to find all the lights turned on and appliances running even when no one was at the flat. Thinking about the electricity bill, he had regretted giving them the spare keys that day. When he mentioned it, both of them denied visiting the place during office hours. It puzzled him, but he had to let it go, reminding himself that Prerna would leave as soon as the insurance money came in and they could pay for their own flat. But today, when he saw some pages of his favorite books torn and tucked beneath his laptop, it was the last straw. This was a deliberate attempt to bug him and his dear books had to pay the price for someone’s malice intentions.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Karan,” Prerna retorted when Karan finally confronted her. “It is understandable that you are regretting your offer to help us in our time of need because it is taking longer than expected for the insurance guys to clear our claim. We have extended our stay here due to unforeseen circumstances and now you want us to leave. Just say so directly. Don’t cook up stories and blame me for silly things like these.”
Diya was looking at him, waiting for his denial. But Karan had had enough of Prerna and her antics. “Now you are being ridiculous. There are just the three of us here and it’s logical that I wouldn’t do this to my books. So, who did it?”
“If none of us did this, then there is only one explanation. I told you not to offend anyone with your mean words,” Prerna said in all seriousness.
Karan lost his cool completely. “What the fuck? Are you out of your mind? You did all this to make me believe in some supernatural bullshit?!”
“Karan, please. Don’t say anything right now. Your anger is making you say things that you don’t mean.” Diya tried her best to handle the situation.
“Of course, I mean every word that I utter.” Karan seethed with rage, giving Prerna a murderous look. “There is no such thing as a ghost or spirit. All this supernatural bullshit is for duffers like her to believe i
n.”
Just then the door behind Karan flew open and slammed against the wall with a bang, making everyone jump in surprise.
“Who’s there?” Karan asked after a brief pause which was needed to calm down his pounding heart. No one replied and before he could go and check, Diya whispered, “Did you see that? They are angry with what you said. Karan you must apologize. They are listening.”
Karan turned to look at her. “Are you fucking kidding?”
Prerna panicked and she started gathering all her stuff. “Come on Diya. We need to leave this place immediately. Karan, you better leave too. Whether or not you believe it, but this place is haunted and the spirits are mad at you right now.”
Diya grabbed a few of her belongings and stuffed it in her suitcase. “Come on, Karan. Let’s get out of here before something else happens.”
“I seriously can’t believe you guys. You are terrified of staying here now? I rented this place for a year and I am not going anywhere. This is my home and the so-called ghosts and spirits can go to hell for all I care.”
“Karan! Please don’t say another word. These spirits can be very dangerous,” Diya said as she joined Prerna in the hallway.
“Oh yeah? Then I dare these spirits to make me move out of here. Let them do what they can but I won’t budge from this place,” Karan challenged, raising his hand in the air in an attempt to point at the so-called spirits. Then he looked at Diya and said, “As for you, I have nothing more to say. Goodbye!” He slammed the door shut when they left. Cursing loudly, he held his head in his hands and dropped down on the bed. Every moment he had spent with Diya came back to his mind. He didn’t realize when he drifted off to sleep.
***
Karan woke up disturbed by the cool wind. His head felt heavy. He shivered with cold as he opened his eyes. His heart pounded in his chest when he realized where he was. Hanging upside down in the air from his balcony, he didn’t even get a chance to scream as he fell down thirteen floors and hit the concrete ground. As he lay in the pool of his blood, Karan couldn’t move a muscle. His eyes fluttered open in a last attempt to understand what actually happened to him. He saw a pair of sea-green eyes staring back at him from the bushes.
“Never deny our existence.” The soft hissed voice coming from the bushes was the last thing he heard before the paramedics arrived and declared his death.
The next day’s newspaper headlines read, “Man commits suicide from the 13th floor in Royal Palms.”
ABOUT HANADI FALKI
Hanadi Falki is a storyteller who believes in the power of generating content to spread ideas, engage minds and touch hearts. Along with her career in the field of writing as an Author, Editor, Digital Content Specialist and then a Communications Director, she is a social activist working with various organisations trying to combat extreme poverty and polio, raise awareness on various social issues and bridge the gap between people of different faiths and income groups. Her debut novel, ‘The Price of Our Silence’ was well received by her readers, and now she is trying to raise awareness on social issues through a series titled ‘Life Around Us’, which includes the first book, ‘Women Around Us’.
HIS PRETTY FACE
Krimson Ravyn
I am chained right now as I write this. I am chained because I am about to be executed. Those humble genies of jails asked me about my last wish, upon which I immediately expressed my wish to document my story.
My love story.
So they provided me with a notebook and a pen, and as I write this tonight on the last day of my life, I don’t see anything more fitting to write about.
This story goes back to December of last year. The world was celebrating Christmas. I was celebrating it too, with the love of my life. His name, however, is irrelevant. It doesn’t bear any significance, for I never called him by his name. For me, he was always ‘Love’.
Back to December of last year. We were on our first vacation in Simla. We had spent most of our time, like other couples, in the snow and in the bed. He was like no one else. I loved him like I had loved no one else. His skin was soft, and yet manly. His face was pretty, and yet handsome enough to make my heart stop. His face was all I ever wanted to see. It is to be remarked that his beauty was like no other, and he was like no other. His face was like no other. His lips were purely perfected concoction of silk and sin; and whenever I kissed him, I could feel myself dissolve a little. His eyes were brown pits of endlessness, and naturally reminded me of the endless forever that I wanted to spend with him.
But, one day, while we were at the resort, while I was making love to him, worshipping him and his body, that I realized I had an umbilical cord protruding from my head, and its color was the purest, the darkest. It was the most sacred, and most sinful, shade of love.
I wanted to gaze in his endless eyes forever. He was inside me, giving me all sorts of pleasure. Suddenly, it dawned upon me that an umbilical cord was protruding out of my lover’s head as well. His was the shade of detachment, of analysis, as if he could run away any moment.
So, as realization dawned upon me in that moment, I accepted the thing that had to be done. I excused myself to my bag, and took out the portable safety weapon that I always used to carry. It had a knife. He did not see it coming, for my beautiful love was busy with himself, stroking his length.
I let my hair loose and climbed on him. I kissed him. His face was beautiful. So beautiful! I wanted him for myself. I wanted him forever. So, when he was kissing me, I thrust the knife in his back. It happened within a moment; I saw his umbilical cord break. He was free now, while my umbilical cord had amalgamated into me. Darkest shade of existence, of purest and passionate love, was integrated into my being now. Slowly, taking my time, I separated his pretty face from the rest of his body. Oh, he was so beautiful, and he was all mine now!
I sat there for days and nights, with his face in my palms, preserving the fragile beauty he had in every inch of his face. I let no one enter into our room. But when they came, questions came storming with them. None of them could understand that I did it all for love. No one could understand how pure our love was now, how he must belong always to me now.
I did not try to convince them to leave me alone when they brought me here to the prison. For the umbilical cord was now a part of me; hanging freely inside my being, to which the possessing, the passionate, the purest love for my lover dangled like a cawing crow.
So, right now, I know that when they will put me to the gallows, my face will glow the same pretty glow as his in those few precious everlasting moments. And the rope they will hang me on will be the same color as my umbilical cord.
ABOUT KRIMSON RAVYN
Krimson Ravyn, aka Kashish Kaur, is the winner of Readify Authorhunt for her fantasy short story. A poet by nature, and a writer by avocation, she is the author of Blood and Beloved, a collection of Gothic and horror poetry. She has contributed in various international anthologies with her fantasy and horror fiction. Recently she started making book and writing related videos on her YouTube channel. You can find her at https://www.facebook.com/krimsonravyn/
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Shwetha H S
A room large enough to seat ten people, courteously and comfortably away from each other, looks clean. The fragrance of jasmine lingers in the air. The wooden floor is naked; the carpet that covered the floor is rolled to a side. The lights are not on. Thick drapes cover the tightly-shut opaque windows, not letting natural daylight come into the room. There is no sound, not even of anything electronic. Anyone walking on the wooden floor would hear their heels clacking. The only person in the house is standing still in the middle of this room, his phone pressed to his ear, waiting for his call to be answered. His heavy breathing is all the sound in the house.
When the call is finally answered, he doesn’t greet the person on the other side.
“It is done.” That is all he says.
In the silence of the room, the person at the other end can be heard; h
owever, not clearly.
“This time the robbery has to be in broad daylight. Will you be ready at the exact time? We cannot afford to delay now, toward the end, after doing everything right since the beginning,” says the man in the dark room.
After a pause, he disconnects the call. He walks out of the room, locks it, and puts the key in a discreet pouch hanging behind a large bookshelf.
***
The doorbell rings and Shivali opens the door immediately, giving away her ordeal of waiting.
“You are late,” she tells Sumukh who is at the door.
“I am not late. I am on time.”
“But you are always early. According to your standards, therefore, you are late to pick me up.” She pouts at him.
“Okay. Then I am sorry for setting such a high benchmark for myself.”
“You know what? With a name that means an auspicious face, you do have an innocent face, if not auspicious. You take advantage of your innocent face.”
Sumukh playfully grins at Shivali. That grin is enough to melt her heart.
“All right! Let’s go. If you come in now, we will be late for our lunch reservation at Floresant. You booked a table for two there a month ago, remember?”
Shivali talks as she locks the door to her house and hooks her right arm in Sumukh’s left to subtly drag him to his car.
***
Floresant is a boutique restaurant with an ambiance that is a mixture of coziness and titillating music. It isn’t ever crowded because tables are available only on reservation. But if you don’t turn up at your reserved time, the receptionist will not let you in even if the table is available. Their policy is not to let a late customer delay the next reservation. Though lunch at Floresant is Sumukh’s idea, Shivali knows their policy and rushes him to reach the restaurant on time. The greeter at the entrance opens the door to let Shivali and Sumukh in and directs them to their table.