04 || four
❝ I strike at night, when the devil is out for a bite. ❞
four || ❛ refusals ❜
Devika
ON THE THIRD NIGHT, I found myself greeting silence way beyond the usual hour.
Neither were the chains rattling nor the lock destroying the door. It was just silence. Tempting silence.
Holding the bottles tightly, I push the door open and tip-toe my way to the kitchen. Luckily, it wasn't locked today.
The darkness was threatening, but it was nothing compared to my need to quench my thirst.
When is this power cut going to end? It is so hot.
The bottle was barely filled when it began. Louder and stronger than usual.
Turning off the tap, I struggle with closing the cap back with the other bottle slipping through my grip. Grabbing them with great difficulty, I turn to dash out.
Too late!
The door swings open with a deafening slam, joined by the rattling of chains.
Peeping out, I glance at him – a deathly and suffocating aura surrounds him. He looks terrifying. An absolute monster.
Our eyes meet. A dark abyss of an unending hate storming in his usually blank eyes.
Standing against the wall of the kitchen, I try and hide myself from his view and end up bumping my head against the shelf.
Ow!
Placing the bottles and key on the shelf, I rub my head. That hurt.
"Devika," He calls, his mischievous tone covering a depth of bloodlust.
A deep sense of fear passes down my spine. Although he is far from me, it feels like... like, he is right behind me, whispering and giggling beside my ears. I could almost feel him breathing down my neck. Snapping my neck, I take a look behind me.
He isn't here.
Sighing in relief, I peep out of the kitchen to keep a check on him.
"Devika, where are you?" He calls, walking into my room. The sound of the rod falling echoes through the house.
"Tch! Someone's being smart." He says and the shrill, ear piercing sound of him dragging the rod against the floor gives me goosebumps. I watch as a part of the window slides open and close and the faint drop of the rod sounds.
He threw the rod!
"... and I know just how to cut the wings of smart people." He turns and I regain my stance, praying that he hasn't seen me.
Should I shut the door?
"Now then, are you here?" He ponders, walking away to the next room. His tone is so scary and intimidating that it makes me try hard to not cry in fear.
Taking his own sweet time, he walks over to the room and pauses at its entrance. A devil-like smile curves on his lips, "Oh dear! I don't have my favourite weapon with me. But that's alright. I'll fetch it now."
I freeze, realising that he is walking down to the kitchen.
I. Am. So. Dead!
Maybe I should've locked the door. Ugh, why am I so stupid?
I stiffen up as he walks into the kitchen, trying my best to remain unseen.
Walking past me, he reaches down to the knife rack and slowly, runs his finger over the handles with his back facing me. He pulls out a knife and I shudder at the sound of metal scraping against wood.
He laughs, the silver of the blade glistening under the moonlight. It is a cold and strange blood-curling laugh, gripping my breath in the throat. My feet, with a mind of their own, root themselves to the ground while I try to escape.
Damn it!
"It is time for you, and him, to be free. Hide not, for I've come to give you eternal peace." A tint of annoyance rises in his tone, and suddenly my feet seem to be moving according to my will.
Slowly, I look out, trying to find a place of safety, while keeping an eye on him at the same time.
The room I use is not an option. It is far and he is dangerous. If he is faster than me then today shall be my last.
I take a glimpse at him. He was staring at something on the blade. Turning back to the door, I find a room barely a few steps far. If I reach there before he sees me, I might live for the night.
And that is enough for me.
Quickly, and quietly, I walk over the room and shut the door, locking it. Sitting against the door I pray for everything to end.
The night feels like a long, terrifying nightmare; it is long, longer than infinite. Every second passes slowly and I have a hard time finding my own breath. Time passes slowly against my rapidly rising fear.
Why do I have to endure all this?
I can hear him – his footsteps, his voice, his breathing. I can feel him, as though he is standing right behind me. Luckily, he isn't. There is a door between us, keeping me safe and alive.
He growls, "Devika, where are you hiding, my dear prey?"
Pressing my hands tightly against my mouth, I sit still against the door.
Calm down! Just try to stay silent for a while.
"My, my! Are we playing hide and seek?!" He squeals. Maybe. I cannot pinpoint the exact emotions in his varying tone. "So you know, I always win. Have fun hiding."
His voice dies and the clatters of objects against the ground rise. It doesn't take me long to realise that he is messing up the entire house.
Something falls. Breaks. Shatters. Clatters. Shrieks. Cries.
And then the usual takes place. Silence falls. The sound of water dripping from the tap rises, louder than usual, in this uncomfortable silence. No footsteps, giggles or threats. Just silence.
An unknown fear makes me wriggle. I can feel it. His gaze! I can feel it at the back of my head. I turn, checking my back. The door is still here. Strong and intact.
Or so I think.
He punches the door, its fragile body shivering under his force. The lock and latch rattle, sending a shiver down my spine. They are too weak. They won't be able to hold on for long.
He hits the door again and I move away, trying to find another safe place. In the corner sat a large grey trunk. Large enough for me to hide. Making my way to it, I flip it open, grunting at the rusty smell on my hands.
Disgusting!
I had barely started moving in when, the door fell open with a monstrous boom. I gulp, moving to a side as he walks through the dust and wood, the knife gripped tightly in his hand. I shiver and move back, finding myself against the wall.
"I told you right, I always win." He grins, moving closer. "You are caught." He drawls, turning the knife in his grip.
Pressing my hand against my mouth, I try to hold my cries of fear. Tears stream down my cheeks, blurring my vision.
Someone save me! Please.
The soft rays of the rising sun make their way through the window, tracing his menacing figure. Sickly pale in colour, a devil-like grin and eyes drowning in bloodlust, devoid of the natural human touch.
In a snap everything changes – a scornful look crosses his face, veins bulging and the knife twirls in his hand.
"Farewell." He whispers, grabbing me by my neck. He places the blade on my chin, trailing it down to my throat. Cackling, he presses the blade softly against my skin, "Any last wishes, love?"
I gulp, thrashing my arms and legs in an attempt to get him away from me. A big fat failure.
"Shh, don't struggle." He places his finger on my lips, and somehow manages to hold me in place. "Don't worry, just one quick slice and you will be free. Free from pain, fear, betrayal and guilt. The guilt of breaking a family. The guilt of loving a married man."
My eyes widen in horror.
How does he know this? I haven't told anyone about it. Is he... a stalker?
"It is unfortunate that your queries must die with you, since I was so excited to answer them. But well, a deal is a deal." He muses, raising the knife and pressing the blade against my arm. "You need to disappear."
It is so cold. The blade presses harshly, drawing blood. If this goes in any farther, I shall not survive. I shall bleed to death if he doesn't stop this nasty joke of his.
Or maybe, I would live. Only if luck would take my side. And I know for sure, it will never take my side. It never has and it never will. I've been deserted by it.
Years of isolation, pain and betrayal is all that I've received from luck, or as some say, fate. I... I refuse to play by the rules of either. I refuse to sit patiently for something to happen.
Clenching my fist in anger, I wriggle around to get my arm away from his grip. Once free, I land a blow on his face and move away from him.
I refuse now!
He groans, rubbing his nose. A look of anger crosses his face, his eyes turning red and he lunges forward.
I dodge and try to get to my feet. I need to escape. He grabs me by my ankle, pulling me, and all my newly found hope, down to the ground.
Laughing balefully, he pulls the knife up in the air, its tip in the line of my vision. My hands move around, trying to find an object of my defence.
Pieces of wood, dust. Anything will do. Just anything to get him away from me.
The sun looms up, its rays hitting the windows of desolate buildings afar.
My body freezes for reasons unknown, my eyes focusing on the blade while my ears decide to be picky with sounds.
A shrill emptiness occupies my ears, as though someone was ringing in a bell in my ears, after creating a vaccum like condition. As it clears, I feel the thumping of my heart against my ears, mixed with the sound of dripping water.
Following it was the sound of birds chirping in mirth. How unlike me! Soon the energetic rustling of leaves reaches out and an unfamiliar tune – a mix of the old fashioned clocked cuckoos and something else – cracks out. This is the first time I hear such an odd tune. And it sounded terrible.
I glance at Yash, the blade still held up in his hand. His hands tremble and he looks quite weak. Taking the opportunity, I push him away and run away to the kitchen.
Grabbing the bottles, I dash into the room and slam it shut. Placing the bottles on the wooden frame of the bed, I slide down against the wall, sitting over a displaced mattress.
I. Am. So. Tired!
Stifling a yawn, I lay down resting my head over my arms. Overcome by exhaustion, I slowly slip into a slumber. My only escape from this cage.
* * *
'Farewell!'
'You need to disappear.'
'You. Need. To. Die!'
I sit up with a start, sweat beads covering my forehead and my breathing ragged.
That was such a bad dream.
Wiping the sweat on the back of my hand, I stretch and stare at the greenish white ceiling, laying back on the mattress.
When will everything come to an end?
I toss around on the mattress, staring at the empty sky, beaming in blue and sun. The ledges above the window hold the sunrays from entering the room. How I wish to feel the strong heat of the sun on my skin.
Making my way to the window, I stare down. The road was empty, with my rod lying in its midst. The grass blades bow down under the force of the wind, the sun gleams and the birds chirp. Everything outside this cage seems so free, and once upon a time, I was a part of this freedom.
And soon, I shall regain this freedom!
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