Coincidentally
By: Ashay Kamble
Tags: Storytelling, Mystery, Fiction, Thriller Suspense, Thriller

Part I: The Unknown Figure

It was raining heavily outside. The hands of the clock stood steady at twenty-three. It wasn’t usual for the streets to look empty at this time of the night. But the rains had driven everyone home. The thunder roared hard intermittently, triggering off the car alarms, creating chaos on its own. The light from the street lamps was diffused by the water droplets, creating a dark, and a creepy kinda effect.

On the street emerged a shadowy hooded figure Walking silently, not affected by the onslaught of raindrops and darkness around. One couldn’t figure out whether the man knew where he was going, courtesy to his slouched walking style. He looked more like someone who wanted to go somewhere, only to escape something, with no particular destination in mind. After a brief while, he stopped, right next to a short fence, guarding a small house. He swiftly climbed it and jumped to the other side. He was now in someone else’s territory.

The fence belonged to a family of four — Khushi, a 17-year-old girl, her parents, and her grandfather. They all were chit chatting in the hall having a merry time, discussing the ending of a movie that had just finished. In the era of smartphones, these people certainly seemed an exception, spending time with each other than with others not present. The hooded man walked towards the house. The light emerging from the windows gave a glimpse of his face — thin, sharp, and hollow as if to the depths of despair, with cold dark eyes. He crept behind the small bunch of trees outside the house and started scanning it for entry points. A large sliding window was visible to his right. He walked towards it, carefully, not to make any noise. Reaching the corner of the window, he put his wet hands on the pane and tried to slide it away. Luck indeed favored him, for the window wasn’t fully shut. He slowly opened the window, enough for his thin body to enter, and closed it again. A table and the curtain at the window entrance were perfect for him to stay invisible from the rest of the house. Positioning himself well, he put his hands in his pocket and took out a knife. He was there to kill.

The urge to kill someone couldn’t be controlled this time. He had to see those fearful faces and listen to those screams for help, and the cries for mercy. He wanted to feel the final breaths of his victims. He didn’t have any targets. Anyone would do. Just anyone. Someone. Someone to satisfy his urge. It was the only way he could channel his emotions, and ironically, keep his sanity. His eyes seemed to rebel his thoughts, but they looked helpless before the mighty mind. He stood there, still. The family members were sitting in the hall; the talks had now turned into candid laughter. It was getting late; any minute now, they would all call it a day.

He waited- waited till everyone went to their respective rooms. He waited for the lights to go off. He didn’t move — his thoughts kept his mind alive, and the muscles dead. By now, he could hear only the rains hitting the ground and the thunder accompanying it. The mellow sounds in the house died. It was time.

.

.

Part II: Confusion

Another lightning struck, and Khushi woke up, sweating hard. It took her a few seconds to let the reality sink in. It was still raining heavily. “Oh, thank god! It was just a dream!” Scared as hell, she got back to her senses and started to calm herself down. Dreaming at night was a daily thing for her, but this one was so vivid, the setup being her own house, it was beyond frightening. The clock hands had now travelled a little ahead of the number one. Feeling a bit thirsty, she got out of her bed, took a deep sigh of relief, and made her way to the kitchen. She picked up a bottle of water from the dining table and headed for the hall. Figments of her scary dream still fleeted around in her mind, but she was thankful that it was just a dream. Settling down on the sofa, she stared at the blank screen of the TV, casually sipping the water. The rains outside attracted her attention. When was the last time it rained so hard? How would I commute to the college tomorrow if this continues, she wondered. Well, you can always expect the college to announce a holiday owing to the rains, but such expectations are almost always not fulfilled. Maybe she could take a day off and enjoy the day, watching some of the shows that were on her “watch later” list. Maybe she could just lay on the bed all day doing nothing.

Her chain of thoughts got broken by a disturbance at the window. She looked around. There was a small opening at the window made the curtains sway back and forth. At that moment, for a fraction of a second, a silhouetted figure was revealed. Her heart skipped a beat. Khushi stood up, yet unable to move. She held the bottle tightly with both her hands, clamped it to her chest, and mustered all the courage to walk towards the window. She put her hand forward and moved the curtain, and was about to give out the loudest of screams because she knew what to expect. Her dream had shown it to her. To her surprise, the place was empty. She opened the window further to take a look at both sides of it. Nothing there too. Her eyes squinted to see farther around the boundaries of her house. A little further away, she saw a dark hooded figure, making his way to the fence.

Khushi was petrified. It was happening — she was going to get killed! Her family was going to get killed! She yelled ‘MURDERER’ at the top of her voice, but the sound that came out from her mouth was a little louder than a whisper.

In her state of shock, she failed to realize one thing — the man was not walking towards her, but walking away. He jumped over the wall to the streets, and the next minute he was out of sight. He had left.

Khushi didn’t know how to react. What had she witnessed? She couldn’t comprehend. Was it a mere coincidence? Or what she saw in her dream had indeed happened? Either way, whoever the fleeing man was, had clearly decided not to do what he came to do. What, why, how? None knew, and none will.

(Heart-1. Mind-0)

(Originally written for www.thelastpage.co.in)