Ch-1
The grim reaper

The floor tiles were glistening from the lately applied sanitizer. The sun had gone down 6-7 hours ago and only the LEDs seemed worthy of a successor. The hospital was a two storeyed building with a massive iron gate drooping from rusted hinges. A small yard, suffused with tender tuft separated the main building from the fence. The whole building was painted a gorgeous white with occasional browns. The 1st floor had two corridors coinciding at right angles. The corridors extended from one end to the other. Beside these corridors several rooms had sprang up to serve the patients. The ground floor wasn’t constructed in this way, it had two big halls which were separated by a slim room, used as a reception . At the end of this slim room a staircase was fixed which connected the two floors.

Dr. Morris was sitting on a steel bench after which the corridor ended. He was in a relaxed posture with his hands clenched together behind his uncombed grey hair, his face stained with boredom and fatigue. He was a man around his 50s or 60s with a negligible beard and trembling limbs , his eyes were formidable and treacherous but his mouth and his nose would be completely congruent with any circus clown. He conjured a newspaper from the dustbin and with a professional attitude leaned forward to read it .
The headlines read-“Millionaire’s son arrested for stealing a diamond casket from his friend’s.”
“These people will never learn to give the first priority to serious crimes .” Morris sighed.
He then moved to the next page “An aged couple waiting for their 16 year old daughter were killed in the sunset cafeteria. These victims were marked with the same scripture -‘The grim reaper’s prey' as has often been seen during these 18 years.”
Dr. Morris had picked up his pace,he felt it impossible to stop for he had always taken a childish interest in criminal cases and detective stories .So he continued with a multiplied alacrity .
“Who is this Grim Reaper? What does he want? Is he trying to blackmail the police? According to our sources he is a member of the police who wants some secret information , maybe he works for some underworld don. Commissioner McAnderson believes that the criminal is taking revenge from mankind for the death sentence of his innocent brother. He has already arrested a person based on this notion. “
Morris suddenly dropped his newspaper as his eyeballs moved towards the room from which faint whispers touched his eardrums.
“Only you can convince him,Jane. He would start screaming at our very sight.”
“I will try but I can’t guarantee. ”
“Even that would be enough. But go be quick… .”
The door upon which his eyeballs were glued opened with a sudden , treacherous noise. From within emerged a young lady doctor of 20-25 within her hands she had a set of papers attached to a clipboard. She slowly approached her former medical teacher. By this time Dr. Morris had resumed reading the newspaper though he frequently looked above from his square cut glasses.
“Seems like I wasn’t a good teacher-”He remarked from behind the newspaper.
“What’s my mistake professor? ”
“Well, First of all, you are poor at whispering . Second, you are disturbing an old man for the sake of some gangsters and third that even at this point of time you can’t work independently.”
An unnatural astonished expression ran throughout the young doctor’s face, she wondered how he came to know about what the patients did, but she chose not to ask. She knew that he won’t answer.
“The case is too serious, and wasn’t it your professor, who said ‘A doctor mustn’t judge who the patient is.’ ?”she remarked, to which the only response was a pair of flinty, cold eyes.
“Please professor,”She added.
“Tell me why do you put ‘professor’ after each of your sentences ?”Morris observed .
“Because you are my teacher, professor” this time she put some more effort on the last word.
“Stop giving me that smirk of yours and again for your kind information I don’t teach anymore.”
“I know but still I take you as my teacher, for your values always help me in making vital decisions. You are my true idol-”
“Enough of coaxing, go.” Morris interrupted.
From her experience, Jane knew well that there was no use pressing him more because when he said ‘Enough’ , he actually meant it. She took his leave with a melodramatic gesture and set off for the next patient like a wounded soldier.

As the young doctor disappeared, Morris got up and helped himself wear his shoes, swaying from one side to the other. He blankly gaped at the wall clock and ambling towards room no. 105, he lit up his cigar.

He surrounded the knob with his thin, pale fingers. The door opened with a negligible pressure and with a more effortless push it shut behind him. The room he entered was dark but the window sill dazzled with the moon’s phosphorescence. Outside the window he could vaguely see the vast stretch of darkness stubbed with twinkling stars. He raised his fragile hand to switch on the light, and at this time a deep remorseful voice emerged from the darkness.
“Who is it?”
“I am a doctor.” Morris replied impulsively.
Before the conversation could mature, the ponderous body fell back on the cushion, shutting his eyes.

The lights helped the aged eyes of Dr. Morris to take a good view of the room. The room was beautifully decorated with rich bouquets of flowers and some extra sofas had been put up to sustain the influx of well-wishers. Towards the northern wall of this room, three men rested on adjacent beds. Their body seemed to be habituated in doing herculean tasks. Though their strength had collapsed, their muscles were stiff . Their abnormally twisted faces possessed a queer combination of malice, suspicion and ferocity in the most distilled form.

Morris observed that the rat faced man who had spoken the former words was now in complete slumber. The three bodies had been shot at different regions resulting in their separately distinguishable attires. The rat-faced man had his head wrapped up in gauge bandages. The other two had severely injured their limbs.

Their beds were accompanied with several instruments like the oxygen cylinder and saline bottle and also by a three-legged stool, on which several medicines were scattered.

Morris knitted his eyebrows in a bow , he was looking at a pair of syringes kept beside a bottle of tetanus . His facial expressions changed drastically. The old, ruffled figure had now given way to a ferocious and frantic beast. His eyes turned green in excitement, which was quite usual with him.
He helped his hands to his pocket and took out a similar glass bottle, a banner pasted on it read 'potassium chloride'. He picked up a syringe and shoved it into the bottle, dexterously drawing it back.
“It’s time to reduce burdens.” Morris murmured with an ominous smile placed at the corner of his lips.
He strengthened his grip on the syringe and with his usual calm attitude, thrust it against the callused skin of the patient, occasionally showing his teeth in a malicious intent.
“I won’t trouble you longer.” he nodded.
“What was that?” the wiry man enquired.
“It will help you sleep well. I know how much your wounds pain. ”
Morris now turned towards the next man as the first man experienced a set of weird attacks. He clutched his chest with his hands, his skin perspiring furiously. His spine arched vigorously as he unconsciously threw an imploring gaze at Morris, begging for help. After struggling for not more than a minute the man calmed, his jaw dropped as he tried to say"hel…...p".

An eerie satisfaction flowed across the doctor's face on realizing that a pair of lungs were silenced. The man had freezed in a horrible posture, his legs bent at the knee and his hands thrown in opposite directions. Morris gazed at those non-motile, probing eyes and smirked.

Morris now turned to the short, rat faced man. He shot the bottle out of the window and just as he was about to employ another, a sudden idea struck his mind.
“I won’t have to take much pain in your case.” He whispered, closely observing the bandaged head.

He grabbed another syringe from the table but this time he kept it empty before plunging it into the patient's skin.He tossed his cigar into the dustbin,ignoring the third man.

A cool gust of night wind swept away the sweat from Morris’s sides. The sky had been clear till now, but suddenly it busted into tears. In the midnight darkness the clouds remained incognito except when curtaining the moon. The drizzling sound revitalized the clumsy and fatigued hospital. But can a breeze carry anything more than sweat? Can rain wash crimson hands? Certainly not and Morris was well edified with that.

He straightened his collar as his head popped out like a mollusc. The water-filled flask which stood on the table, stared at Morris, eagerly waiting to be drunk but he preferred the juice glass and swiftly poured it down through his oesophagus. Dragging his feet and drawing mild breaths the debilitated soul retired, leaving the darkness as the only witness to his 'medication'.

To be continued.....

By:Agnik Biswas
© Ignite