The divine breeze of dawn continued to knock on the closed window, but no sign of courtesy was displayed by the creature locked inside. He was lost in a mayhem brewed by the lucid recollection of the nightmare that had made his world slip out of its orbit. Sanchit let out a hefty sigh; the images floating inside his mind refused to truckle to his desire to bounce out of the maze.

"What are you up to, Jane?" A younger Sanchit asked in a puzzled tone as he spotted the tiny pillow on his wife's lap. "Who is that for?" His eyes dramatically moved around the room. "Have you got a cat?"

A mild smile spread across the woman's lips in reply. She tied her dark, shoulder-length hair before putting her focus back on work.

"Jane?"

"It's not a cat, idiot," she replied in a jocund voice.

"Then? Not a puppy?"

Jane put the pillow aside and looked at her husband. "It's a baby."

"A what?"

"Huh? What? It's yours!"

Sanchit narrowed his eyes. "Oh, I would have been almost disappointed otherwise. Is this the surprise you were talking about?"

"Yes." Jane affectionately placed a hand on her belly.

"Jenny. C'mon!"

"What? I thought you would be happy."

Sanchit looked away with a vivid trace of guilt in his eyes. "Not at the moment."

"What do you mean?"

"I am sorry," Sanchit said in a fragile tone. "But we can't keep the baby, Jane."

"I don't remember asking for your consent, Sanchit," the lady replied in a grim fashion.

He gently walked closer to his wife and confirmed a tender grip on her shoulders. "Please, Jane. Don't be mad. I know what the child means to you, but—"

"But?"

"We can't just have it now. I want to give my kids the best life ever. Not one in which they will have to play hide and seek. Don't act naive, girl," Sanchit continued with his eyes on Jane's blazing ones. "My parents don't even know about our marriage. Nobody does except a few friends, and I can't risk letting anyone else know just yet."

"It's been so damn long! Have you even bothered to keep track? Why don't you just tell mum and dad now? I can at least give them a grandchild!" yelled his wife.

Sanchit moved away. "We have talked about this before. You know how they are. Rural mindset. It's definitely not your fault, but they—they won't accept you, Jane. And they are not going to forgive me if they ever find out what I have done."

"Only because I had been with another man, and I failed miserably in saving the marriage?"

"I told you it's not your fault. Sienna and I grew up in a city, and we think differently. Neither of us have a problem with you. Can't we wait a little longer?"

"Your parents are not uneducated. Maybe you are simply underestimating them. Be honest for once. Are you waiting for them to die?"

Sanchit shook his head. "It's not like that, Jenny. Let me return from Singapore this time, and I promise I will talk to my parents about it."

"You have been saying this since forever!" Another yell filled the room. "After everything I went through, a reason to live is all I am asking for! And all you care about is your reputation, and God knows what."

"My reputation isn't what I am concerned about. How much unrest can a secret marriage cause anyway?"

Jane got up on her feet. "If you don't want the baby, I'll go and find a better father for him."

"Jane!" Sanchit cried in an astonished voice. "What do you mean by that? You know I can't live without—"

"And I won't live without my child," she cut him off in a blaring voice. "Even if abandoning a coward like you is what it takes."

"Jane, listen to me!"

She stormed out of the room.

"My baby," Sanchit muttered as he clenched his fist, heading back to the present. "I deserved it. A spineless monster like me well deserved it."

Burning tears rolled down his cheek as he looked outside the window. He was aware that the agony of losing the pieces of her she left behind would never spare his soul.

**********

The sun climbed into visibility three more times since the night Mayank had been assigned the job that he later thought to be rather preposterous. He was nevertheless frustrated by not being approached by Vaibhav again. Following the third day, the fury in him was burgeoning at an alarming rate; he was done with wandering aimlessly and occasionally bumping into the annoying brat. Fayzan mostly spent his days chasing Vaibhav's geese, walking around the place, fighting with Toby, and sobbing for his cousin from time to time. Unlike Mayank, he did not cherish a bizarre thirst for isolation and uncertainty.

The meticulousness of Mayank's mind was visible in its job of flinging out the last bit of sanity as he sat still beside the pond; the night, on the contrary, was being a fair example of failure in its approach to mimicking the darkness that was engulfing him. The ominous entity in him was loquacious; as it carried on with its relentless ranting, he discovered himself in a desperate quest for a dazzling lantern, only to illuminate the cavern with further darkness and blind the entity for a while with delight. But the gate to damnation was nowhere to be found.

Mayank continued to breathe heavily in rage. The mere scribbled words in his notebook could not assuage his starving soul. Every inch of him was craving the warm, exquisite fluid. Blood. He wanted blood. He needed blood. Yet another squeeze inside fueled his temptation. He was meant to be on the field at the moment. Perhaps with the ball waiting in his hand and with acrimony groaning in his heart. Perhaps a wild, unforeseen strike on the head could have brought the batsman down. Perhaps there would have been blood on the pitch. Or perhaps a hefty blow with the bat to injure a fielder. There would have been blood.

Blood.

Following a trip down the lane of consideration, Mayank got up on his feet and dragged himself toward the house in grim steps. In no time, he was present before the door of his room, where the kid was pasted against the bed surface, lost in the alleys of dreams.

The all-rounder's eyes twinkled as he calmly walked toward the table and turned the torch on. Fayzan was barely aware of what he was being approached by. Mayank pulled out his barrow knife from his pocket and held it in front of his eyes. No image could possibly be more pleasing to him. Except one.

He directed his lifeless gaze toward Fayzan. 

One step. Two steps. Three steps. And then several. Mayank's movement ceased hardly a foot away from the kid. With his hand raised in a determined manner, he painted a hazy yet tempting picture in his mind. With a vicious stab, the boy would be yanked back to reality before being lost in an eternal abode. But for Mayank, he would leave behind blood. A pool of warm blood to satisfy his thirst. 

His grip tightened around the barrow knife as he turned it upside down. The silence was submerged under the deafening screeches in him. It was time for him to seek revenge. 

Fayzan's face was vaguely visible. The all-rounder's eyes were fastened to the sight.

A sense of foreboding filled his mind. No sooner had the sudden flash of memory struck his eyes than his body began to shake. The weapon dropped from his grip as he took a couple of steps backward, with his eyes still transfixed on the boy. He collapsed to the floor barely a second later.

Heavy breaths filled the spot. Fayzan lied motionlessly on the bed, unaware of the whirlpool that was holding the all-rounder captive right before his sealed eyes.

Mayank vigorously shook his head in an attempt to chase away the corrosive recollections. The murderous cries were followed by a few quick knocks that did not belong.

Moments sprinted past him. The knocks grew more mundane.

Mayank turned his head toward the door. It was ajar.

"Who is there?" he asked in a numb voice.

The gap grew wider in response, revealing Vaibhav, who was standing by the entrance. His eyes remained still on Fayzan for a second before heading toward Mayank.

He uttered a few words in a low voice before walking off. "Meet me in my room."