19 views
The other side of the moon-4
Ch-4
Witness.
Whittings caught his breath as the ballroom came into view.Never have I have visited any place that made me feel so small or so - plain.Crystal chandeliers spiralled down from arching blue sky ceiling,illuminating the glimmering golden walls and a floor so polished that it looked like a iced over lake.It was amazing,a wonder of wonders.
People were dancing to a slow,melodious song as Whittings made his way to the other side of the room.While some were stunningly fast and breathtaking,others were more subdued.A string quartet played on a raised platform along one wall while most of the wall adjacent was taken up by a blazing fireplace.Several small tables were arranged at the far-end of the room while two longer tables stood near the musicians,one laden with hors d'oeuvres and small desserts,the other with small goblets of wine and flutes of champagne.
Whittings chuckled quietly to himself as he watched teenagers sneaking out to the outdoors.He never was that kind of guy.Despite Morris' persistent efforts, Whitings never had a steady girlfriend,probably owning up to the fact that he had other things to do.Nevertheless,he had to hear Morris' endless ramblings about Alice.Alas,...
The party was a new year ballroom party thrown by his colleague Robert,his affluent heritage allowing a few casual pleasantries.Whittings generally avoided such get-togethers as he didn't really enjoy the company of his colleagues but Robert had pestered him to attend this for one month.He should attend,even if to relieve the poor man.
Parties are not for him neither is socializing.He is not awkward but he is not a charmer.The swirl of crowds and drunken debauchery unsettles his orderly demeanour.He would prefer himself being holed up in his house with a bottle of wine in his hand,clad in a robe,and the evening newspaper on the table.'Perhaps tomorrow',he sighs dreamily.
"Ah so you have come at last",Robert said in a booming voice as he approached him,a cheerful smile on his face.
"Thank you for the invitation.The arrangements have been wonderful."
"You all should have some fun every once ", he laughed,his eyes twinkling with mirth."Will you like a game of Bridge."
"I am afraid I am not a very good player.",he replied hesitantly
"Nonsense,come along."He waved away his protests with a wave of his hand.He led them to a corner of the room where a table was set up,seating two people.
He and Robert played against Edward and Frank,Robert's friends.He was not a bad player but she was a nervous player with bad judgement and with no real knowledge of the value in his hand.Frank was good,if a slightly over-confident player.Edward was a very skilful player indeed.
An hour rolled by and they were still playing the same rubber.The scores rose above the line on both sides and a curious tensity had settled on the table.Difficult decisions had been unexpectedly eased by Robert's over calling his own bids and playing his hand.Whittings was surprisingly enjoyed the game very much.15 minutes later,the game ended,john and edward losing out on a close match.It was a pleasant game altogether.
"I will go grab some drinks",he succored , eager to stretch his legs.
Whittungs was halfway through the drinks table when he was interrupted.
"Care for a dance ?",Anni asked ,an eyebrow raised and a sly smile playing on her lips.Annie was a long-time friend.They had lived next to each other during their childhood.They usually spent their time playing pranks on unsuspecting passersby and planning wild,crazy ideas to get in and find out what was happening at the haunted house at the far end of the street.(Both had their repercussions though.They never quite found out what e
went at the haunted house and the victims of their pranks endlessly complained to their mothers.It usually ended with their parents quote enraged but no small amount amused.)He and Annie had stayed together throughout their college life,both medical students.They were whispers about them,as to be expected.But none could bring it up to them directly up to them.They were both reputed to be quite scary when angry and dangerously spiteful.Besides,Annie was the only female to badger him about marriage.
"Why not.",he replied,grinning sheepishly."Though be forewarned about by questionable dancing abilities."
"It is not 'questionable'.You are downright miserable.",she answered dryly.
He let out a low chuckle.Annie certainly hasn't lost any of her wit.
Excusing himself from Ribert,they started towards the dance floor.
"How's your day been",he asked as he placed one hand on her waist and held Annie's hand in the other.Annie's dress was black and quite simple,straight across the chest with thin straps and a bodice that showed off her slim figure,but the center of the attention was the beautiful short lace cloak that only reached to her elbows and fastened with a loose velvet collar around her neck.She'd simply plaited her hair and was wearing the black-heeled lace-up boots.
They started dancing slowly as Wonderful Tonight came up.Conversation flowed easily between them.While Whittings was a professor in _ , Annie was a renowned private practitioner. Although Whittings didn't particularly like teaching,it was less exhausting than Annie's job.Actually,Whittings was a private practitioner for a couple of years before giving in to rest.
"Did you really wear a purple attire in your classes today ?",she asks disbelievingly as they snake their way through the crowds to find a table after the dance had ended.They had stopped after two dances when Annie had graciously christened him,'The worst dancer to have graced the Earth'.
"I don't know what you are talking about.I saw students at the back sneaking looks at my outfit and talking about how lovely it was.",he grumbled good-naturedly.
"How do you know they were talking about your outfit,which was incidentally quite 'lovely',I might add.",she asks pointedly.
"They must have.It was simply brilliant."
"Or they were laughing about it as I might have done if I were in the same position ",she said drily,the ends of her lips twitching upwards.
"Oh!How you wound me",he mock-gasps and places a hand on his chest as Annie bursts into laughter.
They finally found an empty room at the far-end of the hall with its complements of four chairs and a solitary dimming bulb above it,casting an eerie orange glow across the table.They instructed a waiter for their drinks and then slumped down eagerly.The dancing had left them tired.After they had received their drinks,they started a friendly debate about the pros and cons of_introducing metro into their town.Annie was a great debater.He had first noticed it in their seventh year when she had won their inter-school debate competition effortlessly.He was a good one too.
Their incessant chatter was only interrupted fifteen minutes later,when the phone from Annie's satchel rang out authoritatively,startling Annie.
Annie's expression grew progressively paler as the call continued and finally morphed into a determined look.Whittings wondered about the call . He has never seen the self-effacing Annie so unsettled.Just as he was about to voice his thoughts,Annie said in a brisk business-like tone,"Mum needs to go to hospital.Mary tells that he has been violently coughing up blood for the last fifteen minutes.They had contacted Rhett as well.Rhett is coming with the car.I need to go.I will contact you tomorrow."
"Can I help ? ",he asked,concern etched on his face.
""No",Annie said,her features softened." best if I go alone."
"Okay",he mumbled,giving a perfunctory nod.
Whittings sighed as he watched Annie striding out of the room.Mrs.Jones' health has been deteriorating rather badly in recent times.She is an woman of 64 years and it is unfortunate that she had to restrict herself at such age due to illnesses.She had always been very fond of him and spoiled him just as thoroughly like Annie.He can remember afternoons in her living room,whiling away time .
He sips his drink slowly as he takes the scene in front of him.Mostly everyone is drunk with a few people in clusters sitting around outside either making out,dancing somewhere drinking or just talking.The occasional drunk person may be stumbling around,tripping over bottles.Over the roar of music,a distant hazy chattet could be heard,the words unappealing to my dulled senses.He wasn't entirely sure it due to the drinks alone.
He was more light-headed by every moment,the backgrounds slowly fading away from his vision.He tried to keep his eyes still, in vain.He felt overpowered,his every organ burning with excruciating pain.He tried to cling to the last scrapes of his slipping consciousness,however to no effect.Reality seemed an unreachable,distant land.The other side seemed a dark and endless precipice,waiting to consume him in its dark jaws.He could feel nothing but omnipresent misery.He silently screamed for the unbearable pain coursing through his body to stop,to no avail.He flailed his limbs about trying to wrench himself out of the agony but his body seemed unresponsive.It controlled every inch of his body,his mind and soul,gnawing at his flesh. And just like started,it stopped, the pain giving way to a blissful oblivion.He lay in that peaceful haze for several minutes,doing nothing.He felt a glorious feeling of warmth and comfort, pleasure like he has never known.He didn't feel the usual prickling guilt that plagued his sleep.All his anxieties just dissipated away, leaving a fuzzy warmth in his chest behind.
He could hear voices,urgent whispers and frantic gestures.Someone is gently lifting him.He could only make out a shock of blond hair and hazel eyes.Somehow,that didn't feel eight.He thrashed his limbs madly,trying to wiggle out of the grip but it brought the same results as before.His body was frighteningly passive.
Black hoisted up Whittings' body on his shoulders and made his way out into the open.The body was heavy and it slowed him down considerably but it was an unfortunate necessity.He couldn't bring anyone with him.It was too risky.The weather was unfavorable too.
It was utter carnage,trees writhing and flailing,their groans of pain carried away by the wind.It screamed like a banshee, uprooting weeds and shrubs in a fit of ever consuming rage.Rain hammered the ground,an impenetrable salvo of bullets.Livid black clouds reared up like a cobra,readying himself for attack.They spat lightening mercilessly onto the scene below,which cut through the sky,not unlike burning venom.A night of dark portent.
He squelched across the mud,to the car,his clothes sagging and rain hammering and whizzing past him,creating a dizzying effect.He hadn't foreseen the weather to be such.If he had,he would have brought his umbrella and boots.The buffeting wind threatened to topple him over and throw him into the fathomless chasm below for a moment but quickly regained his balance.He looked up to see a spark of lightning tear open the sky in half.How very fitting,he mused.The sky roared in response as a tentative branch broke
open from a tree and flew past his shoulders, narrowly missing him.He ducked his head and hurried into the car,securely locking the latch behind him.Whittings was comfortably placed on the backseat.The sky thundered again as he shifted a gear and sped across the hillside road,a turbulent canvass looming over him.
. . .
. . .
Whittings woke up with a grunt.Where was he ? It was unlike anything he had ever seen.He was surrounded by black, grime-encrusted walls, completely.The walls seemed endless.The whole place was swathed in darkness,his own hands invisible to him.The top was nowhere in sight.There were a few beetles and spiders moving around but no human.All he could see was endless,cavernous darkness,looming above him.What the hell as he gotten himself to ?He could only hear the ponderous movement of the beetles and the quick agile leaps of the spiders..Dread doused within Morris as thoughts buzzed through his mind.Why was here ?Who broughr him here ?
His hands were tied behind his back,attached to something.He was sitting on a rather comfortable wooden chair. His legs were wide - spread,each one secured to an an object,apparently of the same kind as of the one tied to his hands.He squinted his eyes to look better at that mystical object.It was round-shaped,rather baseball-like and an handle-like structure was protruding from it...OH !! No !!!It was a grenade.Or rather three grenades.Three grenades were tied to him,prepared to activate at the slightest movement of his limbs.
He screamed... Screamed until his throat hurt.But no one came .No one heard his desperate pleas for help,a wounded animal deternine to live,only for his efforts to go to unheeded.The darkness terrified him.Darkness suffocating his body like a damp,musty,thick blanket,clinging to every inch of his pale skin.He only knew his eyes were still there,as he felt himself blink,an dspairing attempt for normalcy.His muscles felt cramped.He has to hold this position for as long as it takes.He has to.Failing wasn't wasn't an alternative.
He wondered why was he here.Reasons flashed through his mind and yet...Yet.. only one stood out,proud and mocking.He didn't want to believe it.He really didn't.The images were all too familiar. They had haunted his dreams for months.She had woken up in the dead of night,sweating and horrified.But he was his friend.Wasn't he.And he couldn't have known.Or so he believed.
The storm outside raged on.The wind howled in low pitch and the trees swayed in freeform dance.Sheets of rain revived the grass,resounding and rippling without frontier.Clouds graviated towards each other,forming a huge black mass,enveloping the whole place in darkness.
Not now.My eyes drew close,the distant thunder a soothing lullaby.The pictures grew vague.He felt the blackness overcoming him,a blanket of seductive warmth.His body dragged him into the shadowy world of dreams.
Moreus…Hestia... Laughter...her lifeless body….blood...blood everywhere ...helpless...death...death...de
The last thing she felt was was sincere regret and a defeaning explosion.
. . .
Morris lifted the pipe from his lips as a smile spread across his lips as the ground reverbeated with the explosion.It took far too long.The man was tough.His smile soon twisted into a smirk,as if mocking the world for their stupidity.His emerald eyes twinkled in the night,a darkly amused visage on his face.He thought he could escape him.Pathetic !
He was easy prey.It was no trouble to drug him.He was already half-drunk.He had lured his friend outside by pretending as a hospital staff.It was a cheap trick but useful nonetheless.He didn't have the time to form a plan.He hadn't known that Whittings would be coming tonight.Much of his time was taken up in setting up the scene for Whittings.
He must leave now.He had put Whittings at the unreachable depths of an abandoned well.His screams may not have reached anyone but his screams will.
He stamps out the cigarette and adjusted the umbrella.He has fulfilled his promise.Anyone who would have assumed anything else were blind fools.They should have been wary and careful.They weren't.A hollow,mirthless laugh escaped his lips.The laugh. echoed through the forest,the sound picturesquely dislocated in the tranquil quiet of the forest.
Such idiots.
He moved swiftly along the narrow path through the chestnut wood, a trail of smoke wafting upwards towards the sky.
By:Agnik Biswas
© Ignite
Co-writen by:Dipro Mondal
https:(double slash)//writco.in/profile/Dipro5265
Witness.
Whittings caught his breath as the ballroom came into view.Never have I have visited any place that made me feel so small or so - plain.Crystal chandeliers spiralled down from arching blue sky ceiling,illuminating the glimmering golden walls and a floor so polished that it looked like a iced over lake.It was amazing,a wonder of wonders.
People were dancing to a slow,melodious song as Whittings made his way to the other side of the room.While some were stunningly fast and breathtaking,others were more subdued.A string quartet played on a raised platform along one wall while most of the wall adjacent was taken up by a blazing fireplace.Several small tables were arranged at the far-end of the room while two longer tables stood near the musicians,one laden with hors d'oeuvres and small desserts,the other with small goblets of wine and flutes of champagne.
Whittings chuckled quietly to himself as he watched teenagers sneaking out to the outdoors.He never was that kind of guy.Despite Morris' persistent efforts, Whitings never had a steady girlfriend,probably owning up to the fact that he had other things to do.Nevertheless,he had to hear Morris' endless ramblings about Alice.Alas,...
The party was a new year ballroom party thrown by his colleague Robert,his affluent heritage allowing a few casual pleasantries.Whittings generally avoided such get-togethers as he didn't really enjoy the company of his colleagues but Robert had pestered him to attend this for one month.He should attend,even if to relieve the poor man.
Parties are not for him neither is socializing.He is not awkward but he is not a charmer.The swirl of crowds and drunken debauchery unsettles his orderly demeanour.He would prefer himself being holed up in his house with a bottle of wine in his hand,clad in a robe,and the evening newspaper on the table.'Perhaps tomorrow',he sighs dreamily.
"Ah so you have come at last",Robert said in a booming voice as he approached him,a cheerful smile on his face.
"Thank you for the invitation.The arrangements have been wonderful."
"You all should have some fun every once ", he laughed,his eyes twinkling with mirth."Will you like a game of Bridge."
"I am afraid I am not a very good player.",he replied hesitantly
"Nonsense,come along."He waved away his protests with a wave of his hand.He led them to a corner of the room where a table was set up,seating two people.
He and Robert played against Edward and Frank,Robert's friends.He was not a bad player but she was a nervous player with bad judgement and with no real knowledge of the value in his hand.Frank was good,if a slightly over-confident player.Edward was a very skilful player indeed.
An hour rolled by and they were still playing the same rubber.The scores rose above the line on both sides and a curious tensity had settled on the table.Difficult decisions had been unexpectedly eased by Robert's over calling his own bids and playing his hand.Whittings was surprisingly enjoyed the game very much.15 minutes later,the game ended,john and edward losing out on a close match.It was a pleasant game altogether.
"I will go grab some drinks",he succored , eager to stretch his legs.
Whittungs was halfway through the drinks table when he was interrupted.
"Care for a dance ?",Anni asked ,an eyebrow raised and a sly smile playing on her lips.Annie was a long-time friend.They had lived next to each other during their childhood.They usually spent their time playing pranks on unsuspecting passersby and planning wild,crazy ideas to get in and find out what was happening at the haunted house at the far end of the street.(Both had their repercussions though.They never quite found out what e
went at the haunted house and the victims of their pranks endlessly complained to their mothers.It usually ended with their parents quote enraged but no small amount amused.)He and Annie had stayed together throughout their college life,both medical students.They were whispers about them,as to be expected.But none could bring it up to them directly up to them.They were both reputed to be quite scary when angry and dangerously spiteful.Besides,Annie was the only female to badger him about marriage.
"Why not.",he replied,grinning sheepishly."Though be forewarned about by questionable dancing abilities."
"It is not 'questionable'.You are downright miserable.",she answered dryly.
He let out a low chuckle.Annie certainly hasn't lost any of her wit.
Excusing himself from Ribert,they started towards the dance floor.
"How's your day been",he asked as he placed one hand on her waist and held Annie's hand in the other.Annie's dress was black and quite simple,straight across the chest with thin straps and a bodice that showed off her slim figure,but the center of the attention was the beautiful short lace cloak that only reached to her elbows and fastened with a loose velvet collar around her neck.She'd simply plaited her hair and was wearing the black-heeled lace-up boots.
They started dancing slowly as Wonderful Tonight came up.Conversation flowed easily between them.While Whittings was a professor in _ , Annie was a renowned private practitioner. Although Whittings didn't particularly like teaching,it was less exhausting than Annie's job.Actually,Whittings was a private practitioner for a couple of years before giving in to rest.
"Did you really wear a purple attire in your classes today ?",she asks disbelievingly as they snake their way through the crowds to find a table after the dance had ended.They had stopped after two dances when Annie had graciously christened him,'The worst dancer to have graced the Earth'.
"I don't know what you are talking about.I saw students at the back sneaking looks at my outfit and talking about how lovely it was.",he grumbled good-naturedly.
"How do you know they were talking about your outfit,which was incidentally quite 'lovely',I might add.",she asks pointedly.
"They must have.It was simply brilliant."
"Or they were laughing about it as I might have done if I were in the same position ",she said drily,the ends of her lips twitching upwards.
"Oh!How you wound me",he mock-gasps and places a hand on his chest as Annie bursts into laughter.
They finally found an empty room at the far-end of the hall with its complements of four chairs and a solitary dimming bulb above it,casting an eerie orange glow across the table.They instructed a waiter for their drinks and then slumped down eagerly.The dancing had left them tired.After they had received their drinks,they started a friendly debate about the pros and cons of_introducing metro into their town.Annie was a great debater.He had first noticed it in their seventh year when she had won their inter-school debate competition effortlessly.He was a good one too.
Their incessant chatter was only interrupted fifteen minutes later,when the phone from Annie's satchel rang out authoritatively,startling Annie.
Annie's expression grew progressively paler as the call continued and finally morphed into a determined look.Whittings wondered about the call . He has never seen the self-effacing Annie so unsettled.Just as he was about to voice his thoughts,Annie said in a brisk business-like tone,"Mum needs to go to hospital.Mary tells that he has been violently coughing up blood for the last fifteen minutes.They had contacted Rhett as well.Rhett is coming with the car.I need to go.I will contact you tomorrow."
"Can I help ? ",he asked,concern etched on his face.
""No",Annie said,her features softened." best if I go alone."
"Okay",he mumbled,giving a perfunctory nod.
Whittings sighed as he watched Annie striding out of the room.Mrs.Jones' health has been deteriorating rather badly in recent times.She is an woman of 64 years and it is unfortunate that she had to restrict herself at such age due to illnesses.She had always been very fond of him and spoiled him just as thoroughly like Annie.He can remember afternoons in her living room,whiling away time .
He sips his drink slowly as he takes the scene in front of him.Mostly everyone is drunk with a few people in clusters sitting around outside either making out,dancing somewhere drinking or just talking.The occasional drunk person may be stumbling around,tripping over bottles.Over the roar of music,a distant hazy chattet could be heard,the words unappealing to my dulled senses.He wasn't entirely sure it due to the drinks alone.
He was more light-headed by every moment,the backgrounds slowly fading away from his vision.He tried to keep his eyes still, in vain.He felt overpowered,his every organ burning with excruciating pain.He tried to cling to the last scrapes of his slipping consciousness,however to no effect.Reality seemed an unreachable,distant land.The other side seemed a dark and endless precipice,waiting to consume him in its dark jaws.He could feel nothing but omnipresent misery.He silently screamed for the unbearable pain coursing through his body to stop,to no avail.He flailed his limbs about trying to wrench himself out of the agony but his body seemed unresponsive.It controlled every inch of his body,his mind and soul,gnawing at his flesh. And just like started,it stopped, the pain giving way to a blissful oblivion.He lay in that peaceful haze for several minutes,doing nothing.He felt a glorious feeling of warmth and comfort, pleasure like he has never known.He didn't feel the usual prickling guilt that plagued his sleep.All his anxieties just dissipated away, leaving a fuzzy warmth in his chest behind.
He could hear voices,urgent whispers and frantic gestures.Someone is gently lifting him.He could only make out a shock of blond hair and hazel eyes.Somehow,that didn't feel eight.He thrashed his limbs madly,trying to wiggle out of the grip but it brought the same results as before.His body was frighteningly passive.
Black hoisted up Whittings' body on his shoulders and made his way out into the open.The body was heavy and it slowed him down considerably but it was an unfortunate necessity.He couldn't bring anyone with him.It was too risky.The weather was unfavorable too.
It was utter carnage,trees writhing and flailing,their groans of pain carried away by the wind.It screamed like a banshee, uprooting weeds and shrubs in a fit of ever consuming rage.Rain hammered the ground,an impenetrable salvo of bullets.Livid black clouds reared up like a cobra,readying himself for attack.They spat lightening mercilessly onto the scene below,which cut through the sky,not unlike burning venom.A night of dark portent.
He squelched across the mud,to the car,his clothes sagging and rain hammering and whizzing past him,creating a dizzying effect.He hadn't foreseen the weather to be such.If he had,he would have brought his umbrella and boots.The buffeting wind threatened to topple him over and throw him into the fathomless chasm below for a moment but quickly regained his balance.He looked up to see a spark of lightning tear open the sky in half.How very fitting,he mused.The sky roared in response as a tentative branch broke
open from a tree and flew past his shoulders, narrowly missing him.He ducked his head and hurried into the car,securely locking the latch behind him.Whittings was comfortably placed on the backseat.The sky thundered again as he shifted a gear and sped across the hillside road,a turbulent canvass looming over him.
. . .
. . .
Whittings woke up with a grunt.Where was he ? It was unlike anything he had ever seen.He was surrounded by black, grime-encrusted walls, completely.The walls seemed endless.The whole place was swathed in darkness,his own hands invisible to him.The top was nowhere in sight.There were a few beetles and spiders moving around but no human.All he could see was endless,cavernous darkness,looming above him.What the hell as he gotten himself to ?He could only hear the ponderous movement of the beetles and the quick agile leaps of the spiders..Dread doused within Morris as thoughts buzzed through his mind.Why was here ?Who broughr him here ?
His hands were tied behind his back,attached to something.He was sitting on a rather comfortable wooden chair. His legs were wide - spread,each one secured to an an object,apparently of the same kind as of the one tied to his hands.He squinted his eyes to look better at that mystical object.It was round-shaped,rather baseball-like and an handle-like structure was protruding from it...OH !! No !!!It was a grenade.Or rather three grenades.Three grenades were tied to him,prepared to activate at the slightest movement of his limbs.
He screamed... Screamed until his throat hurt.But no one came .No one heard his desperate pleas for help,a wounded animal deternine to live,only for his efforts to go to unheeded.The darkness terrified him.Darkness suffocating his body like a damp,musty,thick blanket,clinging to every inch of his pale skin.He only knew his eyes were still there,as he felt himself blink,an dspairing attempt for normalcy.His muscles felt cramped.He has to hold this position for as long as it takes.He has to.Failing wasn't wasn't an alternative.
He wondered why was he here.Reasons flashed through his mind and yet...Yet.. only one stood out,proud and mocking.He didn't want to believe it.He really didn't.The images were all too familiar. They had haunted his dreams for months.She had woken up in the dead of night,sweating and horrified.But he was his friend.Wasn't he.And he couldn't have known.Or so he believed.
The storm outside raged on.The wind howled in low pitch and the trees swayed in freeform dance.Sheets of rain revived the grass,resounding and rippling without frontier.Clouds graviated towards each other,forming a huge black mass,enveloping the whole place in darkness.
Not now.My eyes drew close,the distant thunder a soothing lullaby.The pictures grew vague.He felt the blackness overcoming him,a blanket of seductive warmth.His body dragged him into the shadowy world of dreams.
Moreus…Hestia... Laughter...her lifeless body….blood...blood everywhere ...helpless...death...death...de
The last thing she felt was was sincere regret and a defeaning explosion.
. . .
Morris lifted the pipe from his lips as a smile spread across his lips as the ground reverbeated with the explosion.It took far too long.The man was tough.His smile soon twisted into a smirk,as if mocking the world for their stupidity.His emerald eyes twinkled in the night,a darkly amused visage on his face.He thought he could escape him.Pathetic !
He was easy prey.It was no trouble to drug him.He was already half-drunk.He had lured his friend outside by pretending as a hospital staff.It was a cheap trick but useful nonetheless.He didn't have the time to form a plan.He hadn't known that Whittings would be coming tonight.Much of his time was taken up in setting up the scene for Whittings.
He must leave now.He had put Whittings at the unreachable depths of an abandoned well.His screams may not have reached anyone but his screams will.
He stamps out the cigarette and adjusted the umbrella.He has fulfilled his promise.Anyone who would have assumed anything else were blind fools.They should have been wary and careful.They weren't.A hollow,mirthless laugh escaped his lips.The laugh. echoed through the forest,the sound picturesquely dislocated in the tranquil quiet of the forest.
Such idiots.
He moved swiftly along the narrow path through the chestnut wood, a trail of smoke wafting upwards towards the sky.
By:Agnik Biswas
© Ignite
Co-writen by:Dipro Mondal
https:(double slash)//writco.in/profile/Dipro5265
