হুমায়ূন আহমেদ-এর “আজ চিত্রার বিয়ে” অবলম্বনে পেস্টিচে

বেশ কিছু বছর হয়ে গেল আমি বাংলায় লিখি না। সঠিক বলতে গেলে আমি লেখালেখি পুরোটাই হয়তো ছেড়েই দিয়েছি। ২০১৫ সালে “বিচিত্র” লেখার পর নিজের মধ্যে স্পৃহা জমিয়ে নিজের দ্বিতীয় বই – “বিষণ্ন” যে শেষ করবো তার জন্য মনোবলও যোগাতে পারিনি। এ কয়েকটি বছর কত কিছু যে আমার জীবনে ঘটে গেল তা এক ব্লগ পোস্টে লিখে শেষ করা বৃথা।

যাই হোক লেখালেখি থেকে এত লম্বা বিরতি এক লেখকের জন্য বড়ই হতাশাজনক। এবং বলা বাহুল্য যে আমি কোনও বড় মাত্রার লেখক নই যে আমাকে কেউ মনে রেখেছে আর যারা মনে রাখতো ওরাও হয়তো ভুলে গেছে যে আমি আদৌ লেখালেখি করি। তার সঙ্গে আমিও খেয়াল করা শুরু করি যে আমারও লেখালেখির হাত সঙ্গে ইচ্ছা শক্তিতাও ধীরে ধীরে ফুড়িয়ে যাচ্ছা। তা আবার কানাডা আসার পর বাংল ভাষা চর্চা মটেও করা হয়ই না। মন্ট্রিয়েল শহরে থাকা কারণে উল্টা ফরাসি ভাষাটা শিখা হচ্ছে।

মন্ট্রিয়েল শহরে মেট্রো রেলে আমার যাতায়াত দৈনন্দিন হয়। মেট্রো রেলে ঘুরতে ঘুরতে একদিন শুনি বাংলাদেশেও মেট্রো রেল চালু হয়ে গেছে। যাক দেশে আরও ইতিবাচক উন্নতি হোক এটাই সকলের চাওয়া। মেট্রো রেলে ঘুরাঘুরি আমার অত্যন্ত পছন্দের এক কাজ কারণ আসনে বসে যখন শা-শা করে মেট্রো ছুটছে গন্তব্যের দিকে তখন নিরবে আপন মনে অনেক কিছু ভাবা যায়।

বাংলাদেশে আমার সবচাইতে পছন্দের ঐতিহ্য হচ্ছে আমাদের চির চেনা অমর একুশের বইমেলা। আমার মনে আছে শৈশবকালে প্রতি বছর বইমেলা শুরু হলে বাবাকে নিয়ে প্রথমেই খোঁজ নিতাম সে বছর আমাদের প্রিয় কথাসাহিতিক হুমায়ূন আহমেদ নতুন কি বই লিখেছেন। আজ ১০ বছরের চেয়ে বেশি সময় কেটে গেছে হুমায়ূন আহমেদ স্যারের কোনও বই পড়ি না। কিছু দিন আগেও ওনার লেখা পুরানো বই পড়ে খুশি হওয়ার চেয়ে আরও হতাশাগ্রস্ত হয়ে পড়ি। এর কারণ মানুষটি আমাদের মাঝে আর নেই। বাস্তবতা বড়ই কষ্টের!

মেট্রো রেলে যাতায়াত করতে করতে হঠৎ মাথায় আসলো হুমায়ূন আহমেদ স্যারের অনেক “সম্পূ্র্ণ-মুলোক উপন্যাস” আছে যা উনি ইচ্ছা করেই পাঠকদের কল্পনার কাছে ছেড়ে দিয়ে উপন্যাসগুলোর সমাপ্তি ঘটান। এসব গল্পে কোনও সমাপ্তি নাই জেনে মনের মধ্য আরও অশান্তি জন্মায়, মনে হয় “এ কি পড়লাম… এর শেষ নাই কেন… ধুর!”

এমন একটি উপন্যাস “আজ চিত্রার বিয়ে”। বইটি হুমায়ূন আহমেদ স্যারের আরও পরিচিত “শঙ্খনীল কারাগার”, “নন্দিত নরকে”, হিমু বা মিসির আলীর মত অত বেশি জনপ্রিয় না হলেও আমার মনের মধ্যে এক বড় ধরণের অশান্তি জন্ম দেয় যখন বইটি শেষ করি। জানতে বড়ই ইচ্ছা করে শেষে চিত্রার কি হলো, ওর বাবা ও মার কথা কি হলো, শেষে কি ওর বিয়ে হয়? – এই বড় প্রশ্নটি “আজ চিত্রার বিয়ে” নামক বইটি পড়েও উত্তরটি পেলাম না কখনও।

প্রথমে বলে রাখি আমি “আজ চিত্রার বিয়ে” বইটির প্যাস্টিচে লিখছি নিজের কোনও ব্যক্তিগত লাভের আশায় না। আর হুমায়ূন আহমেদ স্যারকে মন থেকে সম্মান জানায় লিখছি। তবে হ্যা একটি লাভ মাথায় নিয়ে লিখছি এ প্যাস্টিচে সেটি হচ্ছে আমার লেখালেখির হাত ফিরে পাবার আশায় যেন আমার দ্বিতীয় বইটি পুনরায় আবার লেখা শুরু করে শেষ করতে পারি। আমার জন্য দোয়া করবেন।

প্যাস্টিচে, ইংরেজিতে “pastiche” শব্দটির সঙ্গে কেউ পরিচিত না থাকলে, বলে রাখা ভালো এর অর্থ – “অন্য গ্রন্থকার বা শিল্পীর অনুকরণে রচিত সাহিত্য বা শিল্প” সূত্রঃ গুগল।

এখানে আমি “আজ চিত্রার বিয়ে” উপন্যাসে তার গল্পটির মূল ধারা ও চরিত্রের ব্যক্তিত্ব অনুসরণ করে গল্পের সিক্যুয়েল তৈরি করার সল্প এক প্রচেষ্ঠাই শুধু। কেমন হবে জানি না, বানান ও ব্যাকারণে অনেক ভুল থাকতে পারে কিন্তু আমার লেখার উদ্দেশ্য হচ্ছে সিক্যুয়েলটি পড়ে সবাই যেন আনন্দ পায় তাই ভুলগুলো দয়া করে ক্ষমার দৃষ্টিতে দেখবেন। আমি নিজেও এসব খুটিনাটির উপর নজর দেব না কারণ এটি আমার কেবল মাত্র লেখালেখিতে ফিরে যাওয়ার এক মহরা।

গল্পের প্রেক্ষাপটঃ

সবাইকে প্রথমে বলে রাখি যদি মূল উপন্যাস- “আজ চিত্রার বিয়ে” বইটি না পড়ে থাকেন, ভালো হয় এই প্যাস্টিচে পড়ার আগে একটু ঢু মেরে আসেন কারণ গল্পটি পরিপূর্ণ উপভোগ করতে চেলে এটিই শ্রেষ্ঠ মাধ্যম। গল্পের মূল চরিত্র সহ নতুন কিছু চরিত্র যোগ করা হবে। গল্পের স্বার্থে এটি শুরু হবে মূল উপন্যাস হতে ৫ বছর পর। “আজ চিত্রার বিয়ে” প্রকাশিত হয় ২০০১-এ, ধরে নিচ্ছি চিত্রার বিয়ে হয় ২০০১ সালে তাই আমার গল্পটি শুরু হবে ২০০৫ থেকে। তার সঙ্গে যে অভিজাত মেরিন ইন্জিনিয়ারের সঙ্গে বিয়ে হওয়ার কথা ছিলো, তা হয় এবং সে এখন বাংলাদেশ ছেড়ে যুক্তরাষ্ট্রে বসবাসরত ও সংসার করছে।

এখান থেকে আমার পরের পোস্ট দিয়ে শুরু করবো গল্প, আর হ্যা “আজ চিত্রার বিয়ে” বইটির সিক্যুয়েলের জন্য একটি নাম তৈরি করেছি, তা হচ্ছ-

“কাল চিত্রা ফিরবে”

Old Hobbies Turn to Memories

Today my wife said the most astonishing thing-

“You no longer watch K-drama or listen to K-pop much.”

I was bewildered thinking why would she bring this up all of a sudden when she is not even into J or K culture.

I replied, “I don’t know, I just don’t feel like watching anything. And why are you asking this? I thought you get jealous and hate me watching pretty women singing and dancing around.”

My wife, being a professional psychologist, said something which truly saddened me- “No, that’s not what I mean. I sense you are losing a part of yourself which may have kept you happy for a long time. The way you used to admire and talk about K-dramas and K-movies discussing their cinematography excellence, you no longer do so and it feels you are incomplete because the K-culture goes with your personality, you are efficient like them.”

I am 27, my wife is also 27, a year has passed since our marriage and one day, In Shaa Allah we are going to be parents and as our 30s edge closer than our 20s ever would, I realize with the harsh reality of life perhaps we maybe are destined to lose interest in our little old hobbies and in the end they all will accumulate as memories during bed time when we set your children to bed reminiscing all the good old memories, “I still remember the time when I was a SONE, it was during 2009 when I was in Class IX and my bias was Jessica Jung.”

Goodreads Asked Me to Write a 2-Sentence Horror Story. Here was my Reply!

Can you tell us a two-sentence horror story?

This is the question which Goodreads asked me like 2 months back but it had always eluded me for some reason. Today I got to notice it finally and wrote this in a hurry:

They say, you can still contact Lynda even after she had committed suicide upon slitting her wrist at the washroom near the Science Lab. Just follow the given steps-

1. go to the same washroom where she took her life
2. turn on the faucet to fill up the basin
3. look straight at the filled up basin and start chanting her name 9 times
4. upon finishing your chant, her murky reflection will appear in the water as it reaches out to hold your face and drag you down along with her.

Link to the answered question at Goodreads

I know it’s a long tale for a 2-sentence story but please do let me know your reviews. It will mean a lot!

I apologize for the prolonging hiatus from my regular blog entries.

Thanks for giving it a read and do pray that I remain motivated enough to contribute regularly at my blog.

Perhaps

I guess, when it comes to marriage, I was never meant to have a quite Islamic wedding just as I have always dreamt of…

Perhaps, to what I visualize, I was meant to date an Arab of stunning beauty and intelligence, most likely of rare kind. At our first date perhaps she would be thirty of minutes late and would run to my table apologizing shyly. Perhaps I would accept the apology with a slight nod of relief. She would hastily order for a cup of hot coco and a glass of cold coffee. Perhaps she would daintily start off explaining the reason behind her lateness and I would return it back with a low chuckle. Perhaps she would gleefully exchange her inner pleas covering the qualities she desires in her potential spouse and I would listen to them saliently taking each details with utmost care.

Hers hot coco and my cold coffee would arrive and she would return the waitress with a thankful radiant smile. Then she would stop and say with a bashful voice, “Now you tell your part.”

I would start and would intently listen and the two of us would forget about our coco and coffee. Perhaps during this time, I may randomly contemplate from the first time I ever got to take interest in a girl back in kindergarten to whom I promised I would be someone great and when she hears my name, she would be proud; to the one I promised I wouldn’t reject a girl anymore without giving them chances to the ones I wasn’t allowed to get married to solely for some cultural constraint; from the time when I was forced to reject those who were interested in me, to the one where we thought we weren’t a good match where we parted with warmness. I would part.

Perhaps she would listen to all my words looking at me with a bemused countenance returning me with her silent short breaths. Having done, perhaps I would gulp, feeling the dryness inside my throat for the first time and I would nervously wait for her remarks.

She would blink swiftly, perhaps for the first time or perhaps for the first time I ever got to notice and she would give out the singular most beautiful smile I ever got to witness in a woman.

Perhaps the heat from the coco would wither while the ice in the coffee would disappear until the two settles out to become the same.

And perhaps, with joyous thoughts the two of us would look at one another realizing we had finally met our match.

My Most Favorite of Grandfather’s Travel Journal Entries

The following entry is a part of my grandfather’s travel journal. Grandfather used to travel to India for buying goods and sell it to Bengal (present Bangladesh) which was at that time under British rule. The entry recounts one of his most amusing experiences he ever had.

Thursday, 22 February, 1945

Having bought the cigarette stock from Mr. Nayer, my father decided it was time to return home. At that time there were severe riots going around in the borders of Calcutta and Sri Mongol but we had no choice, we had to take the Calcutta train in order to get back to Bengal. Uncle Mohiuddin was confident regarding the issue that the Almighty Allah would protect us while my father thought it was a bad idea in taking me along on the business trip. Someday or the other I will be running the family business so I had to come along despite the fact that Mother was scornful with Father’s idea of training me. It was evident that the whole Indian subcontinent will one day be divided and we knew that cursed day is creeping every second as we speak. It will completely ruin our trade ending our 52 years of trading but my family members never spoke of it but I knew they too were apprehensive regarding the matter.

We boarded the morning train to Calcutta from Howrah Station with the hope that nothing would go wrong and with the belief that Allah-tala will protect us. Shortly afterwards we started our unanticipated journey. As we emerged the outskirts of Hooghly, we could hear several people shouting and it was coming from the front cabooses. The next minute there were gunshots and a couple of people were tumbling down to our caboose. My father and uncle stood up and started to pant. We knew from that instant that we were entwined in a train robbery!

Two masked men arrived with guns in their hands, kicking their way over the tumbled passengers. The children began to weep while my father pressed my right arm in order to give me the message of remaining silent no matter what. I was silent and did not dare to utter a single word but I could clearly hear the throbbing of my heart. I wished I could warn my father against those robbers as he has a tendency to become adventurous at times but I could barely maneuver my mouth. Our feet were pinned to the ground as the robbers slowly approached us. They were speaking Hindi which implied that they were not locals. They were gesturing to all passengers to drop their belongings in a jute sack they were carrying. My father, uncle along with some other passengers just stood and gaped at the robbers but did not dare to do anything rash. Suddenly we could hear a woman whimpering from the seats behind. The robbers heard it too and looked front. After spotting her they rushed towards her. She was far behind from our place but from her actions I could interpret that she was pregnant and now she was about to give birth!

The next few seconds were simply incredible. One of robber pulled the emergency chain brake which halted the running train and then another robber (perhaps their leader) ordered the others to carry the woman to the hospital. One man, whom we guessed to be the woman’s husband, followed the robbers silently as they got off the train. The train started its journey soon enough leaving us completely bemused to ponder over the puzzling incident which occurred a while ago. The robbers, having forgotten their assigned task, turned desperate towards such a duty which was not a part of their daily routine. Indeed they did something which was completely unexpected from all of us in order to prove that even robbers have a caring heart. We never got to hear about the aftermath of the incident, surely we loved to but my guardians thought we had to flee back home as soon as possible. I wished we would have stayed for another day at least to read the next day’s newspaper but fate did not allow us such…

This is one of my most favorite stories of my grandfather as it holds a lot of meaning in itself. This incident is quite similar to one of the most famous short stories by a master of short stories which I have read a year back. Curious readers are thus suggested to read “The Chaparral Prince” by O. Henry which holds a similar moral.

The House of Several Smiles

A Crime Thriller

CAUTION: Reader’s discretion is advised as this story contains graphic violence.

“Sergeant Major Michelle here from Team C, I have finally found a trail and now heading towards Morbis Hospital, the hospital was abandoned in the late 80s and I believe that the supposed “red-killer” must be hiding there. I have Sergeant Parker here with me, send me backup when I give my next call.”

“Roger that, Sergeant Major, we will be sending backup soon.”

Michelle gasped. It took them 18 “long” months to finally trace a lead to the infamous “red-killer”, the prime suspect of the Chappell Hill serial murder case. 20 women have been found dead, brutally tortured before finally laying them to rest. The eeriest aspect of this serial murder is that the murderer has not strictly followed any relatable pattern while making his kill save for three “eerie” evidences which directed the taskforce to coin it down as a subject of serial murders.

Firstly, all the victims seemed to have a strange smile on their face- a broad stiff grin from ear to ear which is accompanied by their bloodshot eyes, widely open and it looked as if they were still alive. Those grins weren’t the usual ones you see in everyday life when a woman laughs her heart out or when she meets a lover after a while. It was completely surreal, bizarre by its core as the forensic reports failed to comprehend the reason how these broad smiles lasted even when the victim was well dead. Many officers believed a drug was used to plaster these smiles but autopsy reports revealed that the bodies weren’t subdued by any form of drugs during the assault.

On second note, all the victims seemed to have the same type of lipstick on their face. Reports proved that they are exactly of the same brand however, yet another eerie revelation was made. The brand of the lipstick, being a local one, wasn’t doing well which eventually led it to go bankrupt and that happened almost fifteen years ago. Popular rumors started to pop out involving the owner of the lipstick brand seeking revenge on women in general for making the lipstick brand to go bankrupt. However, the newly weaved urban legend soon got debunked when the son of the owner of the lipstick brand was finally traced. He moved out of town after his father’s death (the owner) and was now involved in running a poultry business. The police interrogated the owner’s son for about one week and found he had nothing to do with the serial murders.

Thirdly, all the victims had the following sentence across their neck- “IT WAS RED”, which was deeply pierced with a pen-knife. This led the press to name the subject of their news bulletin as the elusive “red-killer”.

The age distribution of the victims ranged from 15, being the youngest victim till now, and peculiarly extended to even a woman of more than 60 years of age. The murder started off with a singular murder at the “quite, undisturbed” town of Chappell Hill but it soon found its course throughout the other towns of Texas. This was well enough to set a rampant over all the police stations throughout the state.

Over the past few months, cases involving kidnaps also had ominously increased along with one of the victims being the ex-commissioner’s 21-year old daughter causing a complete rampage. No calls or notes involving ransom were ever traced which clearly indicated that money wasn’t the real motive. So what was it then? The young girl was yet to be found with only a handful of the officers still believing in the hope of retrieving her “whole and alive”.

If this shit continues, this will cause a national emergency… Michelle signed. It had only been two hours that she got to find a possible “lead”. Locals had reported that they had noticed strange occurrences around Morbis Hospital, ranging from the lights turning on by itself in the middle of the night to the feminine whispers and cries which can be throughout the hallway which led to the belief that the hospital was haunted.

However, Michelle took this in rather a different manner. The “supposed” demonic infestation started off right a month before the first murder occurred. This led Michelle to believe that this abandoned hospital might be serving as the serial killer’s hideout. She glanced at Parker who lay snugged in his seat, devoting himself to complete silence.

“So what do you say, Red, do we have our man?”

Upon hearing this, his face stiffened a bit as he bluntly answered, “I guess so.”

“I think so too, my gut says so and my gut never lies.”

Parker remained silent, he looked pensive.

“We can finally throw that god dammed son of a bitch in jail. What does he take himself as? He had his little triumph, that little jerk… it’s now payback time. You hearing me out Red?”

She noticed Parker was still in his usual position, his lips pressed and his face stiffened. Michelle took a better look at him, she could not believe that she actually knew him since middle school as the shy nerdy boy with large spectacles and with the distinguishable feature of being a redhead. Most of the time he would sit right at the back of the corner out of everyone’s line of sight. He had always been that “quietest boy in the class”. She was always the topper in class while he seemed to be the next one behind her. It was during high school he actually proposed to her, though not technically a proposal, just called her on a date. She frantically declined the offer and to make matters worse she said the following upon his face, “You know what I really don’t have a taste towards redheads. You know what let’s call you ‘Reddy’ or ‘Red’ from now on, consider it a love token from me as I don’t really like rejecting guys directly though frankly you are not my type.” Upon saying this she noticed his eyes turned all teary, his face seemed wrapped up in what it seemed like a mixture of fear and agony or none of both. From then on she never heard anything from him until he too joined the Police Academy. Michelle passed the academy before him and coincidentally ended up being his immediate superior.

She studied Parker for some time and noticed the sharpness of his jawline and other masculine features. I guess I shouldn’t have rejected you that day. She chuckled to herself. Forget it, now it is time to get serious.

They arrived at Morbis Hospital within the next thirty minutes. The entire hospital seemed stricken with complete darkness. Michelle checked her watch, it read, 11:47 PM.

“Most probably our killer is not home yet. Hey Red, take out the flashlights.”

Parker took out two flashlights from the back trunk and handed over one to Michelle. He also picked up a club stick which laid on the back seat.

“What’s that for?” Michelle asked.

“Protection. You know he is a killer and you never know what tricks he can pull out.”

“Oh… Reddy, that killer should know he is now dealing with the best sergeant major in town. Let’s not waste our time and get inside.”

Both of them stepped in together turning on the flashlight. The air seemed like it was filled with an awkward sense of eeriness. Michelle kept her ears sharp trying to pick up even the faintest of the sounds which can prove to be crucial if they are to find their man.

“This place does gives off the creeps. What do you say Red?”

Parker just hummed, “Hmm…”

“Let’s explore the chambers, one by one to see if we can find any trail.”

They searched all the chambers in the first floor and the only things they found were some beds with stripped mattresses, tables filled with rusted medical apparatuses and some ‘dead’ equipment. The rats shrilled as the flashed their lights at them. Michelle signed. “The last thing I expect, is to see these rats engaged in the murders. Let’s check out the second floor.

The second floor seemed as desolate and “uninteresting” as the first until passed one chamber which caught up her attention.

Is that dried-up blood?

Michelle went back to the chamber and as she shone the light, she turned baffled. Dried-up blood filled the entire floor and seemed to have appeared from inside the wall.

Bingo, there must be a hidden chamber on the other side of the wall.

She called Parker who came in nonchalantly but as he saw the blood on the floor he too was dumbstruck.

“Neat huh? Well, I don’t mean by that neat which means tidy, I mean that we are close to have our man.”

“Do you think it is a good idea to investigate this area right now? Shouldn’t we just wait for the backup to arrive, like we still don’t know whether the killer works alone or not?”

“Nonsense Red, we have come this far how can we possibly back down now? And I want to teach that freaking bastard who’s the boss.”

Michelle noticed that Parker just stiffened his face while he clenched his fist tightly without uttering anything.

Michelle observed the wall very carefully and tapping on it confirmed that it was indeed a secret passage. She then noticed a large piece of what it seemed like a rope coming out of the wall, upon pulling the rope, the rectangular shape of a door appeared. Michelle pulled the corner of the hidden door with the force of her fingertips and within seconds, a secret passageway appeared in front of them. An eerie pungent smell came out from the passage and Michelle knew from her years of experience that the smell way too familiar for her to miss out.

Rotten human bodies…

Michelle heard Parker gasp as she made her way to the passage. As she lit her flashlight, it was to her dismay, she found that the entire passageway was filled with either freshly rotten human remains, severely mutilated only to be served as a feast for rats or bare skeletons of what they seemed like few decades old.

What is this place…? You got to be freaking kidding me.

Parker was behind her but she lost her focus from him. Perhaps he too was baffled with this monstrosity. There was no doubt the killer was a newbie, he must have killed people for more than few decades now and hid the bodies.

Then Michelle noticed that a streak of green-blue light was glowing at the end of the passage.

That must me it!!!

Michelle rushed towards the light and found that it was in fact a door and night was coming from the other side.

“Quick Parker, I want you to tear down the door, we don’t have much time.”

Parker did not resist her anymore, perhaps the anomaly of the situation must have raised his sense of responsibility. At first he placed at the door knob and when it seemed to have loosened, he thrust his shoulder against the door to make their way to the hidden room.

The room was brightly lit with blue, green, yellow lights and from its tidiness it looked as if was still being in use. Michelle at first thought this was the operating room upon seeing all the surgical instruments and apparatus lying neatly on the table and the equipment. But it was more than that.

At the end of the room, she saw a large self which was big enough to cover the entire wall. This portion of the room was in fact brightly lit. On the shelf rested several large jars and inside those jars rested the severed heads of several women each smiling in the same eccentric manner as all the victims of the Chappell Hill serial murders. They all seemed like staring out at Michelle beckoning her to run away.

Michelle clearly felt the deep surge of nausea as it made its way up her throat, this was a lot more than she had actually anticipated.

What sort of a killer is he…? How can he be like this…?

Michelle could not arrange her thoughts, she made an attempt to look at her watch, trying to avoid the piercing looks of the smiling faces in front of her. Her watch read 12:27 AM. Then she suddenly remembered Parker.

“Where are you Re…”

She could not make out her words as the next second a sharp blow struck her right at the crown of her head and the very next second submerged into complete darkness.

***

Michelle slowly opened her eyes, her head still hurt like hell as she noticed a thin line of blood was dripping from the corner of her blood. It took her time to realize that she was strapped in. The operating light shone right above her face.

“Oh, so you’re finally awake, nice to see that because we got a long night to spend together.”

She recognized the voice, it was Parker’s. Then he finally appeared within her line of sight. He seemed… different. She wanted to utter something but found the muscle of her mouth completely immobile, the only sound she could make were some crude whimpers.

“Well, Sarah you won’t be able to say anything, injected a drug on your cheeks which paralyzes the muscles in your mouth and the reason why I did this because tonight I will be the one who’s doing the talking.”

Michelle tried to wiggle in order to loosen her strap but it was no use.

“Sorry dear, that won’t do, you need to do something better than that to free yourself.” He chuckled. “So where should I begin… Ah yes… Let me introduce myself at first. I am Sergeant Phillip Parker, as you already know, or what you don’t know I have other names as well given to be by the press, that’s right I am the infamous ‘red-killer’, ‘red-demon’ or even ‘red-nightmare’- ooh, I like that one, or what… in whatever manner they feel like naming me in the papers, I give the least bit of shit to those. But I got another name, the name I despise the most, the name given to me by those whores back at The Red Lips, the name which even you don’t seem to care even while uttering it- RED.”

Sarah struggled to move but the grip of the strap was just too strong for her to move properly, even the slightest.

“Well, you said you wanted your man, so here I am, under your nose all this time and you were just too blinded by your own god-damned arrogance that you failed to notice that. I mean I gave you all the clues you needed to find the killer, I did your homework, even went into the trouble of writing, “IT WAS RED” across those bitches’ necks just to give you a hint that it was me all along. I mean, how more straight forward of a message do you want me to write? Or did you wish that I had written, ‘It was Phillip Parker, Sergeant of the Chappell Hill police department, partner to Sarah Michelle…’ all across their fucking bodies just to make you solve this case… Well that would have been too easy then, too god-damned easy.”

The last sentence Parker shouted was at the top of his voice, which shuddered the veins out of Michelle. She peered out at the shelf to find the smiling faces still dazed in their ever-lasting malice.

“Oh, you are curious regarding them, right? Or regarding this whole thing? Well, I was actually rooting for you this whole time to solve this case but Sarah you truly disappointed me like the day you rejected me. On top of that you gave me the most insulting nickname which I had been running away from ever since my childhood. In case you never had the brains to know, here is how it all started.

“My mother was the madam of a local brothel named The Red Lips. She would hire whores from across the states and it was a profitable business. Over the years, the clients’ preference of relieving their urges changed to the extent that we even had lesbians coming in to relieve their homosexual urges. Then one day the men demanded for a young boy dressed up as a female. My mother became agitated as over the years money and the customers’ satisfaction turned into her sole concern. Then her eyes fell on me, I was just six years of age during that time. I still remember that god forsaken day. She called me over and said that she is going to play with me only if I agree to dress up as a girl. I was super excited so I nodded saying, ‘Yes’. She called two of her whores to dress me up and put a wig on me and when I was done, she came up to me and upon curving the red lipstick across my lips, she said the following cursed words, ‘Smile my child, as here in The Red Lips, we all serve with a smile.’

“The next moment she thrusted me to the room of the clients. When I turned my head to face the clients, to my misfortune, I discovered at least six naked grown-up men peering at me with filth in their eyes and voraciousness in their mouth. Before I could react, a dozen hands overpowered me and the next moment darkness descended upon me. Within few weeks, I became the new sensation to the brothel. At times I even needed to attend seven client per day. I was forced to leave school at the command of my mother because it was money which mattered to her the most. While my mother counted her money reclined in her room, her son was left tear-stricken locked up with miserly beasts in a sea of agony and humiliation. The whores at the brothel gave me a stage name- “Red” due to my redhead. This was the name which later became my new identity and it was the through this name I got distinguished and addressed by client and overtime I forgot my own given name. My mother was blonde so I had to place the assumption the man who must have impregnated my mother, most likely one of her own clients, must have been a redhead as well. This filth continued for around three years then I thought to myself that I had had enough. One night I slipped into my mother’s room and upon covering her mouth, I plunged a pen knife through her throat. My mother tried to scream but the only thing which came out her mouth was a stream of her own blood. She soon succumbed to her death thus relieving me of my years of agony. When the police came, I was put in juvenile detention. The brothel was closed and the whores left the business but I could not leave behind my sour memories. Soon afterwards I was set free and I got to learn that a mysterious benefactor was willing to finance my future. I had no other choice, I lived in a very modest house with an old housemaid in the name of Mrs. Thomson who would visit me early in the morning and leave at night. She was in-charge of taking care of my household chores, home schooling and cooking. I was given a new name- ‘Phillip Parker’ and a new home. I used to spend the night in this dreary house all alone but this life was far more soothing to me than I was with my own mother. I stayed there until I turned 18.

“I finally resumed my formal education at the time of middle school and it was during this time I got to admire you not because of solely your looks but mostly because of your charismatic personality. At high school I thought of proposing to you but later decided to ask you on a date. You can’t imagine how much courage I had to muster just ask you that. Instead, the response I got was well enough to spring back my childhood trauma. I have seen mean and bad people but nothing can’t be matched to the foulness of your own arrogance. To my dismay you ended up topping me at Police Academy and in the end even became my superior and acting partner.

“It was after my graduation from the Police Academy, I got contacted by a mysterious person possessing a deep and gruff voice. He claimed himself in being the ‘Devil’ who had been my benefactor ever since the fall of The Red Lips. He claimed me as his ‘son’ as he declared himself in being my ‘father’. He said I was destined to do great things in life and needed to make my country proud. In order to do so, he told me the people in fault must be punished. He recounted to me how my mother and her whores treated me and said such people need to payback for their sins.”

Michelle stared at Parker in utter disbelief. Devil… what in the world is he talking about, he has completely lost it.

“A week later, after our conversation, a package arrived at my door. Its content was a box full of bottles consisting of some sort of bluish serum with at least a dozen syringes. That night, the Devil called me once more.

‘My son, have you got my little gift.’

‘What is it?’

‘Your doorway to getting your revenge…’

“The serum initially did not work as per the claim of the Devil. I was asked to inject it accurately at the location of the cervical vertebrae but initially I had problems. My first ten victims could not take the serum very well so they passed out and I could not leave them as they were so I had to take them back to the lair. The ones you saw in the passageway as the ‘oldest skeletons’ were in fact my initial experiments. The ones you see here are my finest ones and some of them also used to be the whores of my mother’s brother. Father Devil taught me how to take my revenge. He told me to redden the lips with the same brand of lipstick we used in the brothel so that they get to understand the pain, the fear and anger I felt in my old days and receive their judgements. As their lips curved into a smile being overtaken by the serum, I used to stare in delight as their hearts lost its pace and they would leave this world for good. This is the merriment I received from the works of the Devil. Do you know I happen to kill only sinners? Every head you see here are no better than the prostitutes you are going to find in the sewers. Even the ex-commissioner’s daughter, he used his own daughter as a fucking piece of shit for the rich to reach to the top and his daughter actually enjoyed the entire process. What a whore! These are some things you won’t be learning at the Police Academy.

“Then the command came to put down my arch nemesis- you! It was rather a simple technique, I just went to a payphone and called you saying that I had seen some paranormal occurrences at the Morbis Hospital and I set the date of the occurrence in such a fashion that upon hearing it you would start to believe that this event might have something to do with the entire series. And the best part is you totally fell for it and crawled into my lair bearing any defense or backup. Today your demise is not going to happen due to my malice and misdeeds but due to your own arrogance and negligence. So get prepared you slutty bitch!”

Michelle suddenly felt a sense of urgency as she tried to wriggle her way out of her straps. Her struggle seemed futile as it only added further merriment to Parker’s bitterness.

“You know sweetheart, you could have ended all this if you just had taken a good look at me. I mean come on, your killer was just behind you all along, all you had to do was look behind or in other words taken notice of your comrade. Rather you were just blinded by your own arrogance and ambition. Death be upon all the arrogant, Amen!”

Michelle started to sweat as she noticed Parker taking out a syringe filled with bluish liquid out from a box and make his way towards her.

“You know I wish we had fought crimes together for a bit longer but you know Father’s order are Father’s orders and it is best bitches like you get your right treatment…” The next second he plunged the syringe into the back of her neck, possibly at the position of her cervical vertebrae. She let out a shriek but it appeared more like a whisper.

“Now, for the finale. Since you will be gone soon, I have no one to fight against, so it is best if I leave this world as well. We were not meant to be together in this world so perhaps this may come true in Hell where we will finally be one with the Devil.”

Parker took a pen and wrote some words in a piece of paper. Next he took out his penknife and eyed malevolently at Michelle. “Sergeant Major Sarah Michelle, today I, Sergeant Phillip Parker shall grant you your ultimate punishment- seeing your comrade die in front of you before you sink to your own demise. This is the same penknife which saved me from my mother and today I shall end my deal with this world with this as well.” With these words he abruptly slashed the back of his neck with the penknife. Michelle just gave out a tiny squeal as she witnessed her comrade’s body quickly turn motionless.

He is dead… Parker how could you have done this to yourself? I know you have been through a lot but why take this path in the end?

After few minutes of silence, the backup finally appeared. Upon seeing Michelle, they dashed towards her but it was already too late. Michelle clearly felt the muscles in her face tingling.

“Sergeant Major, what’s wrong? Sergeant Major!”

Her entire body started to shake profoundly as a face began to bend and curve into that despicable smile. She glanced at the shelf.

“Sergeant Major Michelle…”

She could not hear anymore, the very last thing she felt like noticing were the gleaming eyes of the smiling faces and it felt like all of them were laughing at her. The next moment her heart felt light, it began to slowly faint, then her heartbeat grew fainter and fainter till it could no longer beat, even the faintest.

***

“Chief Conway, so you are telling me that there is no way we can control this incident before the press.”

“I am afraid not sir.”

“What do you mean by that? Two of our officers died in that shit place filled with more than 30 severed heads of women with several other bodies found in the passageway and you still think that the public is going to let us once the press releases this news?”

“I am sorry, sir, it is just too big of an incident to cover up.”

The commissioner signed, he hardly could imagine what was going to happen once the press got this news in their hands. This was going to be a total massacre once the news get released leading to the “death” of the creditability of the police force.

“Listen here chief, if you can’t control this situation, I will be making transfers and replacements and it won’t go very pretty.”

Chief Conway shuddered upon hearing this, “I… I will try my best.”

The commissioner just nonchalantly nodded scratching his head filled with red hair. “I want you to do it, don’t just try, you need to do it otherwise all of us are a goner. Say, what did you say that the backup team found a small piece of note in the hand of one of our officers?”

“Yes sir, it was found in the hand of Sergeant Parker.”

“What did it say?”

“It said, ‘The Devil told me to do so!”

Upon hearing this the commissioner’s face lost its blood. “What utter nonsense! Was he under drugs?”

“No sir, he is believed to be the red-killer himself, well, we still haven’t confirmed it yet, we are still waiting for the forensic reports.”

“When the reports come off, do inform.”

“Yes sir! Sure will do.”

“You may leave now.”

“Thank you sir.”

As Chief Conway left, the commissioner rubbed his sweat off from his forehead, he was sweating frantically out of fear and anguish. He reached for his phone and upon grabbing it, he swiftly tapped a bunch of numbers bearing a strange unfamiliar sequence. He placed the phone on his ear.

A feminine robotic voice called out, “Please name yourself and place your request and after doing so press 1”

The commissioner cleared his throat to reveal his gruff, deep voice, “A… This is Commissioner Desmond Parker speaking, it seems like my son Phillip Parker has messed up our plans. Just last night he killed himself out of excitement and the police has found the hideout which previously had the body and head of the ex-commissioner’s daughter. My son has also disclosed my codename so I also request for a new one. Please forward my message to the President as soon as possible.”

Then the commissioner pressed “1”.

The robotic requested, “Please spell out your codename.”

The commissioner said in his usual deep voice, “My name is D-E-V-I-L, Devil”

“Process completed, your message will now be forwarded to the President, thank you for your co-operation.”

The Dark Secret – Part 1

A Realistic Fiction

CAUTION: Reader’s discretion is advised as this story contains graphic violence.

(Sigh)… I really don’t know how to start my tale. My fingers are trembling as I woefully hit the keys of my keyboard striking each new word at a dying pace. A part of me wants to dictate what I have experienced over my course of my life while the other part craves to slip this away deep into the abyss of my very soul. But I have decided that I won’t stop once I come near my laptop. People need to know, they certainly need to know because I can’t allow anyone to feel the same pain which I experienced half a decade ago.

Sometimes evil lurks in the most flamboyant fashion- mostly unnoticed by the naked eyes and unrealized by the credulous of the minds and then it unfolds and start showing its true colors, hush… that is when it always gets too late to reprimand anything and then you see your life crumble away in front of your eyes, your mind and body being too powerless even when it comes to defending yourself as well as your family.

It feels like decades since I have laid my words in order because I can’t seem to remember the last time I have written an account or a story or anything. This is perhaps going to go long so please do bear with me. Perhaps you will learn a deep lesson from my experience, especially when it comes to trusting your nearest family members.

At first let me give you a background history of myself and my family. I was born in a very modest and average-graded family, our desires for luxuries had always been limited by my father’s struggles in finding a decent job. At least that is what we had always believed. My father served the government at the Ministry of Health as a health policy advisor for the new millennium regulation for more than two decades. In our part of the world, government jobs have always been regarded ‘most secure’ and also the ‘least lucrative’ of any jobs there can be. The government officials barely make anything for them to make a decent living. Thus in the long run they always need to rely on bribes, lobbying and fund embezzlement just to grab a chance in the being a part of the upper class. My father, thankfully, was a different man, choosing to rot with what he had rather than devour his own share of bribes. He would always pompously recount incidents to us where he heroically avoided events of embezzlement and looting. My father was in fact a hero to both of us- my sister, Saira and I until time chose to take its evil turn.

My mother had always been a docile person- being more than ten years younger than my father, however, she had the blessing of appearing more than two decades younger than him. She had always been a loving mother, always dutiful towards her task. Despite her becoming a mother at a very early age, she had always been mature enough to make the most sophisticated decisions. It was upon her discretion that I got to go to one of the best schools in my country despite it clearly had put a strain on my father’s wallet, when our condition wasn’t that well. But my father, somehow, seemed to put everything well in hand and we were not deprived of our needs.

Then things started to clearly change. It was when I turned seven, I started noticing that my father’s face would always turn to glower at my mother whenever she asked for money.

“It is the beginning of the month, I am sure you got your salary by now, please I do require this month’s allowance.” My mother asked her husband politely.

“I don’t have this month’s money.” My father snapped.

“What do you mean? This is the beginning of the month. We still haven’t paid the bills. How can you say that you are already short of cash?”

“I told you I got no cash. And if you really care about your allowance, why don’t you go to your rich father of yours? He did not even bother to give my family a bit of dowry from his mountain of affluence and now you are pestering me about giving you some cash.”

“What are you talking about? You are a doctor and you do your practice but still you keep on bringing my father…” My mother could not keep her composure, her demeanor swiftly changed as her face cringed as she broke to tears. This happened right in early of the morning, right when I was about to leave for school with my father. This was the first time I saw my father like this and I was perplexed regarding whether it would be a good idea to go with my father leaving my mother in such a derogatory state.

“Come on chap, we better be off, otherwise are going to be late.” My father called.

I was flustered by the coolness of his tone. Shouldn’t he be feeling a bit ashamed, even to the slightest bit at the very least for treating his wife like this…?

My mother gestured to me to leave and I had no other choice. On our way to the school my father did not blurt out even a single letter and to my surprise, his countenance didn’t even represent the slightest bit of contriteness. I also sat beside him in complete silence.

On the very same day, during nighttime, was to me, the most horrifying night, I have every experienced. I suddenly rose up from my sleep upon having a need to go to the toilet. But then I heard soft cries and whimpers of a female coming from the next room. It was coming from my parent’s room. That was well enough to let fear sprint through my spine. I felt petrified with a mixture a hopelessness. I did not know what to do. It took a while for me to muster my courage and stagger to my parent’s room. The door remained slightly opened. As I peeked through the opening, what I saw, still shakes the bone marrow out of me. My father bashed a slap across my mother’s face and the blow was strong enough to send her flying as her head thudded on the headboard of the bed. Not being able to tolerate this gruesome sight, I pushed the door open to reveal myself. My father glanced back at me feeling shocked which was soon transpired to a blinding rage. My mother daintily sat up and it was at that time I saw that her clothes were badly ripped with barely any stripe of her apparel lay dangling on her shoulders. She gently took her glance off me as she bashfully picked up pieces of her ripped clothing to cover herself. My father stood up and strode towards me and before I could react he stamped a wild kick at my abdomen, I fell down with a loud thud and the last thing I heard was my mother calling out my name before the door slammed right before me. The pain was unbearable since this was the first time I had ever received a corporal punishment from the man I once looked up to.

I crawled to the doorway and rested my ears on the door. The cries and whimpers of my mother still persisted in the air but there existed an additional noise- a series of loud thumping noises. Soon enough I started feeling dizzy. My abdomen cringed in pain as I felt a hot stream of urine soiling my shorts. Before long, I passed out.

The next morning, when I woke up, I realized that I had been carried to my bed. I rose up, feeling completely perplexed and dazed. When I made to the dining room, I noticed that both of parents were ‘chirping merrily’ while they had their breakfast which seemed irrational to the event that occurred last night. They were behaving as if nothing ever happened between them. Now this confused me like anything. I began to doubt whether the scene I had witnessed yesterday was actually a dream, or rather a nightmare. That is when I realized something. I reached out my right hand to touch my abdomen. I clearly felt the pain which was pressed in me last night. That is when I noticed something else as well. My shorts have been changed… perhaps by the hands of my mother.

It wasn’t a dream, I gulped as I tried to put all the pieces of yesterday’s messed up event together. There was clearly something which was definitely going wrong and my parents are concealing it from me.

Upon seeing me, my mother calmly called out to me to have a seat right next to my father. Fear and agitation swiftly sprang up to my heart as I knew if I refused to sit next to my father, he would surely rewind his torment on my mother similar to what I had witnessed last night or he might even turn far more vicious than before. Without any second thought, I skipped into my seat where I already felt shaken by his shadow which casted on me. I glanced at him, he just shot me a weak, wordless smile and then returned to his meal. And then something spiked my attention which was well enough to convince me that I wasn’t dreaming anything last night.

On her forehead, I clearly saw bruises- deeply plastered by the cruelty of my father…

He is so merciless… Has he always been like this? I almost blurted out but couldn’t. Even after all this, even after my mother having to tolerate all this insanity, my father still failed to perform his duties as her husband.

It took me few years to decipher the origin of that thudding noise when the doors closed that night and once I finally did, I practically lost all my respect for my father. My mother, the woman my father vowed to protect all his life was being enslaved by his lascivious desire in the name of engaging in ‘marital intimacy’- this was something unforgivable from my end and the memory of me being completely powerless against my father still agonizes me to this very day. But this wasn’t the end, I really wished it was, but deep in the foreseeable future of my life, far darker secrets lay banefully ahead of me- patiently waiting to be finally told.

Part 2

Published in Reddit NoSleep as Creepomaniac: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/5xzw4f/the_dark_secret_part_1/

The Death of a Detective

A Detective-Horror

The wooden window loomed above me. Its ominous hinges creaked like the ceaseless sound of an old rocking chair. The soggy mosses have devoured the whitewash of the walls. The ancient doors lay wide open with it everlasting darkness as far as eyes could see.

The stairs creaked as I went up to the door, I seriously neither believed in haunted houses nor did I even have the mentality to accept that a ghost could really stand in front of me. But of the accounts I have heard, this house certainly bore a curious case.

The cell phone rang.

“Is it Mr. Hangs?”

“Mr. Hangs speaking.”

“Sir, we are from The Daily Crest and we want to hear more about the case of Mr. Palmer and the mysterious house in the 36^th lane down town…”

“I am sorry, that house is still under vigilance, and I can’t share much.”

“What’s your presumption about the black crosses throughout his body?”

“I make no presumption, I rather value a solution, I am sorry I can’t share anymore facts without any proper evidence.”

With all the might of my right thumb I switched off the phone.

Hate the press more than anything! Why can’t they leave a man alone with his work?

Anyways, it was better to continue with my investigation because it was really crucial as such cases come once in a life time.

I took out my small notebook to read some details about the tragic death of Mr. Palmer. I needed to clarify few things before I actually entered the house.

“Atticus Palmer (46) was found dead on the 21^st of December 2012 on the front yard of the old Missionary House in the 36^th lane of Maple Street. The man was neatly attired with no signs of any physical torture or violence. His body was stretched out open and seemed like it was manually done but surprisingly according to report, not even a single fingerprint was found. The most puzzling issue was that the man’s whole torso was crossed black with no detection of paint. The marks seem like they have been smeared underneath the skin. A clear impression of a long palm with thin fingers has been detected on the skin above his sternum. Yet more, on the top of his abdomen a paper was found which contained the account of all the things which happened to him inside the house. It was written in first person but according to Mrs. Palmer, it was not the handwriting of her husband. The note provides details of the things which happened to Mr. Palmer before he died. The things which happened to him are quite incredible as they all beyond human comprehension. The local police force has been reluctant to carry on the case as they term the house to be ‘haunted’. Even Mrs. Palmer has been silent regarding the death of her husband. There are abundant rumors regarding this house being ‘haunted’. The intention of Mr. Palmer in entering the house is still unknown.”

The job of a private investigator is truly agonizing! Nothing seems to fit in easily, yet this is the sport I adore.

I folded the note and then tucked it inside my left pocket. Taking a deep breath I stepped into the unknown territory of the Missionary House of 36^th lane, Maple Street.

*****

This is Arthur Lorn speaking; I am the co-worker of Thomas Hangs. The note written above is what we discovered in the hands of Thomas Hangs (34). Hangs was found dead hanged in an old Maple tree on the front lawn of the Missionary House of 36^th lane. His entire torso was covered with black marks but he showed no sign of struggle. Under the orders of the superiors we were asked to dismiss this case and thus the long black mystery of the Missionary House will forever be in the mist of darkness.

Published in Reddit Creepypasta as Creepomaniac: https://www.reddit.com/r/creepypasta/comments/5urm31/the_death_of_a_detective/

The Lone Patient

A Medical Thriller

I lifted my head from Hard Times; relieving my head from all the plenteous description of the Victorian Age and looked at my fellow-traveler sitting opposite to me. I could tell from her face that she was eager to start a conversation.

She was a stout woman with a jovial face with a dark skin tone and during the time of Eid, it was no surprise that she was also on her way to her village home like the rest of us. She was the one who was first to start.

“If you don’t mind may I know where your village home is?” she asked as she smiled cordially.

It was no surprise. Bangladeshis are always curious upon which village one originates so I returned humbly, “Mysensingh, miss”

“Oh, Mashaa Allah… I am from Tangail. So what do you do?”

“I am an intern at Dhaka Medical College”

“Oh, Mashaa Allah… Mashaa Allah, that is so great to hear. You are such an erudite girl. Mashaa Allah”

I remained silent as I clearly felt the reddish hue congregating on my cheeks.

“My boy is still doing his HSC. He did not want to come as he always feels sick due to this stressful journey during Eid.”

I returned her a nod of understanding. The train crackled on its track.

“All these recent political instabilities ruining this country, I simply don’t know what will become of this country. Say, do you mind sharing with me one of your Medical College experiences?”

I looked at all the people around me; clearly it wasn’t the most ideal places to recount to my past experiences especially when you can literally smell the sweat and hear the pants of people around you.

“Don’t be shy. It will obviously kill some time of our long journey.”

I did not want to disappoint her in her festive mood so I began my tale.

It happened during the first days of last summer. A sudden outbreak of diarrhoeal diseases overtook the capacity of all the wards of our Medical College. It was delirious with people spread in every corners of the hospital floors crying out of pain.

That very day, a middle aged man appeared out of nowhere limping in the Hospital. He was grasping his stomach firmly signifying that he had a severe stomach ache. He seemed to look like an educated man so somehow out of a lot of hustle I managed to provide him a bed. Initially we thought that he was suffering from diarrhea as most of our patients but that was not the case. Every now and then he was murmuring gibberish which barely made any sense until I found out what he was trying to say. His words were, “I’m going to die, destroy the lab”.

The nurses on duty did not pay any heed to this man, who called himself Prof. Ahmed. When I appeared, he opened his eyelids widely and then began dragging my wrist. I shrieked but then mastering up my courage I tried to comprehend what my patient wanted to say.         

“Please call Tina and tell her to destroy my lab at Tejturi” he told me with his voice shaking heavily.

“I don’t understand sir. What do you mean?”

“I give you her number and tell her my message, she will understand. Please, this is a matter of saving humanity from a terrible fate.”

Feeling completely dumbfounded, I took Tina’s number from him. When I called her, she just confirmed her name and as I just mentioned his specific instruction she instantly cut my call before I could ask her any further queries. Feeling more perplexed than ever, I returned to my patient and assured him that I did as he wanted me to do. He seemed to have relaxed a bit but after some moment, he started talking once more. “Thank you, I just want to mention to you that in my lab I have actually invented a new pill containing nanobots which can disintegrate the human body for good. I accidently got exposed to these nanobots and my body is going to disintegrate after midnight”

I was shocked, without thinking I asked, “What do you mean sir? Is it really possible?”

He just answered, “Very possible”, as he shut his eyelids.

I knew, I no longer wanted to speak of this matter. I returned home but the Professors words did not allow me to drowse for even a single fraction of the night. When I returned to my workplace, I discovered my gone!

I searched every corners of the hospital. I asked all the nurses and guards but none of them remembered seeing him at the Hospital. It was as if he had disappeared into thin year. Or did he really disintegrate? To this day I still don’t know the answer.

That is not all. on 10th of April, there was a fire at a chemical shop at Tejturi Bazar which led to the death of around eleven people, I am not so sure about the figure. This news was covered in all forms of the media but the police could not fathom the true reason behind this awful tragedy. I have a gut feeling that perhaps Tina was somehow engaged in the outbreak of this fire at Tejturi. This incident is by far the most awing incident of my Medical life and I really don’t expect that I will ever experience such happening in my entire life.

I finished my tale and without even looking I could bet at least twenty eyes were popping out right at me. There was a moment of silence until I went into breaking it myself. “I hope this story was able to kill your time Aunty.”

“Yes, it surely did my child” answered my fellow passenger in a quivering tone.

Note: This story is based on the Tejturi Bazar tragedy which took place on the 10th of April 2014. For more information please read this news:  http://bd.thedailystar.net/tears-anger-fill-hospital-air-19754. Although this is a work of fiction the fire outbreak which had occurred at Tejturi Bazar was actually true.

Published in Reddit Creepypasta as Creepomaniac: https://www.reddit.com/r/creepypasta/comments/5uwgw2/the_lone_patient/

Our Moments Together

A Techno-Thriller Romance

Howen fixed his eyes on the lifeless body of Yumi as he gently placed her on the full body scanning device. Two and a half hours of time have passed since she drew her final breath and to Howen it felt like ages. Her body felt naturally numb though unusually cold which worried Howen fearing that the electro-magnetic waves might not properly pass through her body.

“I am grateful for the time we spent together though I know it seemed so short…I seek for your forgiveness for having been born so weak. I pray that you get to find someone much better than me.” Those were her tearful last words.

In reply Howen said, “What are you saying? I can’t hope to find anyone better than you and you are going to get better and we will go to the beach and watch the sunset together just like the old days, I promise and we are going to live through this together…” He wanted to say more but the nurses limited his further advance as the stretcher was pushed away to the operating room.

She managed to jerk a frail nod most likely gesturing, “It’s going to be alright”. But it never was.

When the doctor came out with his head bowed down, Howen knew the obvious. He knew the complexity of Yumi’s disease but he never dared to imagine her in the lifeless state. It was never ought to be a successful operation but Howen hoped for a miracle to bring the light to Yumi’s heart. But the light faded away taking Yumi with it.

“Who is going to take custody of the dead copy, sir?” asked the doctor?

“I will.” replied Howen with the words barely coming out of his quivering lips.

“Doesn’t the miss have any guardian of her own?”

“No. Her father when she was only three and her mother passed away eight years back and to my knowledge, she has no known relative in this prefecture.”

“Oh, I see. Do you want me to inform your father?”

Howen gulped, “No. I will take her.”

Howen’s father, Dr. Yamazaki Kento, was one of Japan’s best AI engineers. Having completed his graduation from Tokyo, he lost no time to seize the opportunity of his full-bright scholarship and fly off to complete his Masters from MIT and that too ended up with a gold medal. After returning to his homeland Dr. Yamazaki turned himself into a fulltime research engineer dedicating his life in the effort of finding new means to program machines into possessing their own intelligence, thus leading him to form the Japanese Artificial Intelligence Research Centre (JAIRC) in the year, 2089. His efforts soon paid off as he finally made a groundbreaking innovation. He called it the “artificial soul” or “Jinkō no tamashī” in Japanese. The technology had the ability of returning life to the dead. It is just like the “elixir of life” appearing only in ancient Japanese legends. Dr. Yamazaki’s innovation turned the myth into a reality. The process required him to turn the human body into a cyborg and then insert the artificial inside the body. To make the person almost identical to its true self, memories, collected from the deceased’s brain, are inputted to the cyborg’s brain. Though he got the patent for his technology but the Japanese government, choosing to be rather luddite, refused to issue license in approval of producing artificial souls. Dr. Yamazaki claimed that the original Japanese population was falling and they needed to preserve their seemingly extinct race but the high authority’s argument remained with the stand that this innovation would lead the world into an “imbalance”.

Yamazaki Howen was no different from his father. Being a techno prodigy himself, he decided to trace the steps of his father’s path. After acing all exams at middle and high school, he was now majoring in AI at Osaka University. Amane Yumi was his childhood friend, knowing her ever since middle school. She was the daughter of one of his father’s lab attendant who died during a fire outburst at one part of his father’s lab.

It had been three years since Howen confessed his love for Yumi, finally expressing his feeling for her after a decade of acquaintance. Howen had always been the secret crush of Yumi who readily accepted his proposal as they started a whole new chapter of their tale as a couple.

Yumi had always been a docile girl, partially shy though rightfully amiable. Physically she appeared a lot frailer than other girls as she used to get weak quite easily from their long distance walks with Howen. That never bothered their strong bond as Howen, upon sensing her impeding frailness, he used to scoop her up in a piggyback ride and carry her out all the way.

Things changed when Yumi learnt of her illness on the second year of their relationship. It seemed delirious for Yumi as her confidence chose to part away from her. However, Howen, acting up as her “power house”, always tried to plant a smile of hope on her face. Yumi used to smile nonchalantly praying each day to get better so as to get their usual days back. But the smile soon died away as she finally had to give in to her fate.

I promise, I will bring you back, murmured Howen in his mind as the scanner finished its job.

Now he had to deliver Yumi’s body to the Biomechatronic Chamber where she would get her cyborg form. Howen paused to think for a minute being skeptical with this whole process.

What if she comes out being a completely different person…?

That won’t be possible as I have already preserved her memory.

What if something goes wrong? Will this be considered illegal by the AI Police Force?

It shouldn’t be as this is my father’s technology. If needed we just got to ostracize ourselves, that’s all.

Upon finally deciding to his weaker side, he pressed the button of the Biomechatronic Chamber.

Howen watched intently at the screen as the biomechatronic process progressed.

When the screen hit at 99% after 17 long hours of wait, Howen clearly felt his heart skipping out. As the process ended, his fingered quivered to the discharge button. The doors opened with an ominous smog which clouded the lab. Howen peered down to find Yumi, now a cyborg, looking much lifelike than before.

He called out to her, “Yumi… Can you hear me?”

Yumi gently opened her eyes and looked at Howen.

Thank goodness, it was a success! Howen helped her get out of the chamber. Looking at her, he asked softly, “Do you remember me?”

Yumi gave him a blank look as she shrugged her head.

She is still devoided of her memories and emotions, realized Howen. He guided her to the Memory Retrieval Machine. Placing the headset on her, he stood beside her patiently with tears of partial thankfulness and terror jerking out of his eyes.

It won’t be long till we get to be together.

Howen fell asleep feeling exhausted from all the stress and fatigue. He woke up at the beeping of the machine as it marked its completion. He lightly lifted up the headset from Yumi. As she fixed her eyes on Howen, all those lost memories and emotions began to emerge and converge. She finally remembered who she was as she threw herself to Howen and began to wail. Howen, not being able to take command of his own tears as well, freely let his sentiments overpower him.

It wasn’t long before they heard the noxious hiss of the lab door as it slid opened and members of the AI Police Force rushed in.

“Sir, you are under arrest for creating an unauthorized cyborg. You have the right to remain silent as well as the right to have an attorney.” ejaculated one of its members.

“What is the meaning of this? I just made use of my father’s property!” roared Howen as two policemen grabbed his arm from behind.

“We all respect you in being the son of Dr. Yamazaki but when it comes to laws, we are all treated the same. Now decommission that cyborg and bring it on.”

What Howen witnessed next cracked away his spirit. One of the members pierced a needlelike device inside Yumi’s neck, Yumi jagged her lips and Howen knew that the device was meant to suck away her artificial soul. Suddenly, the sense of right or wrong, good or bad, moral or indecent quickly evaporated from the Howen’s soul. He forgot what his father warned him about and all about laws and regulations as his hands swiftly mutilated into arms and ammunition.

The police force holding him could barely utter, “Hey, you are also a cy…” before Howen got the opportunity to target his laser gun properly and disintegrate the two policemen.

The other policemen, having realized the calamity of the situation, threw Yumi away and began firing at Howen as he managed to slide himself behind a large device. The two parties exchanged blows as Howen clearly witnessed the damages done to his father’s lab.

I won’t be able to hold them like this for long and looks like the lab is also going to blow if we keep on continuing like this. If the lab blows off, there won’t be any hope to retrieve Yumi, anymore.

He suddenly remembered the existence of a star-screen bomb inserted on the side of his pocket. He took out the bomb and pondered, This is going to be my final chance.

He threw the bomb and turned on his heat-sensing vision as he clearly saw the bomb blasting a torrent of glaring light throughout the lab. The policemen lost their focus for few seconds and in that moment Howen rushed in towards and upon sensing their body heat, he was able to target them and kill them off quickly.

Soon enough the light faded away as he found the wounded body of Yumi. She was breathing deeply clutching onto her pierced abdomen. He gently picked her up feeling completely devastated. Only then he realized his left arm being severely impaired.

“You are a cyborg too!” Yumi could barely make her words.

Howen just gave her a slight nod and then explained, “Ten years ago, the real Howen got into a serious accident from which he was almost dying. Realizing this situation, Father made me a new body in form of a cyborg. Father added in my weapons so that I could protect myself at times of need. The reason why no one could detect my artificial soul which was made unlicensed is because the time when I was dying, my real soul was spliced with the artificial soul giving me a renewed life as well as keeping the old me intact.”

Yumi smiled faintly, “I always knew you were a cyborg.”

“Since when?”

“Since our childhood. You once fell down the tree and severely injured yourself. When I rushed in to take care of your bruises, I felt electric waves coming out of your injury. I thought I was imagining things but it all makes sense now.”

Howen tried to prevent his tears from appearing but he desperately failed. His father’s cyborg generation lab looked a total debacle and he could hardly imagine the worst.

But the worst still awaited Howen. He placed her at the scanning device. The device took ten minutes to scan then the concern message popped out, “Concern: Unable to Formulate Repair Process.”

Howen shrieked in agony. How is it even possible?

He checked in once more only to find the disdaining reality that Yumi’s cervical vertebrae had been impaired to such an extent that it was beyond repair.

Howen dismally looked at Yumi who seemed to be laying on her death bed for the second time. He looked at his severed left arm which was now emitting small bits of electric torrents. He took a deep breath and thought to himself, There is only one thing to do now, in order to put this misery to its end!

He turned on the cyborg detaching device and brought a bed beside that of Yumi and laid himself He was now directly looking at Yumi.

“What are you planning to do?” asked Yumi sounding concerned.

“Just be positive, have faith. I set the machine to detach our body parts and preserve them along with our memories so that someday when cyborgs are made fully legal, someone kind enough may reconstruct us and we get to be together once more.”

“You are so sweet… I am thankful… I wish we get to stay together… once more.”

Howen started to wail, with his tears now clouding his vision. “I am sorry it turned out to be like this. I know, I am nothing compared to my father, I should have studied more then only…”

Yumi cut Howen’s words by saying, “It’s alright, I am alright by this. At least we got to relive our moments together even for a short span of time. Don’t you agree?”

The robotic arms have started to detach their body.

Howen could barely speak his emotions taking the command over him. “Hey Yumi, I am sorry, I am sorry for that day, the day your mother died, I was at the lab that day, somehow something went wrong, the molecular device suddenly broke off and fell on her. She was crying for help but I was small back then, a complete coward, instead of seeking for help, I ran away from that place and before I could bring myself back together, the whole place blew up. I always wanted to tell you this but I was scared about the thought that you may leave me after having known the truth behind your mother’s death.”

Yumi just smiled which appeared to be a smile of appreciation, her cheeks streaked in tears. She just feebly managed to utter her last words, “Arigato… Sayonara…” (Thank You & Goodbye in Japanese) as the robotic arms took out the memory bar out of her brain. The spark from her eyes soon faded away.

Howen could no longer control himself, he wept away helplessly, being uncertain of the future which would either one day bind them together or would keep them casted away forever. His misery soon decayed as he felt the robotic arms venturing through his brain and the next thing he remembered was soon flooded into perpetual blankness.

***

Dr. Koizumi has been busy in his lab ever since he had won the cyborg auction. Usually each cyborg has its own memory disk but for this unique cyborg duo, only one disk exist which truly marveled him at the auction. After buying the cyborg parts, he was jolted with the words engraved on the disk, “Our Moments Together”, pointing out to a possibility of an existence of a merged memory shared between two cyborgs.

If that is true, I will be the first ever scientist in history of having been able to reconstruct two cyborgs with merged memory, now that Biomechatronics have been fully legalized by the government.

These thoughts jolted his zeal to newer heights as he rummaged through his textbooks and databases. What amused him the most was that the cyborgs have already had their own predetermined names and memories which he couldn’t reprogram them no matter what. Though he admitted that he personally loved both of their given names, there was something mystical, something auspicious about their names so he dared not change them and keep them as it was- Howen & Yumi.

*End Note: This story was originally set to be released in one of my Bengali short story compilation and this may actually sound crazy but the planned year of its release was in fact 2024! I was confused regarding whether to release this work as a full length novel, novella or short story. Then suddenly my international fans started to nag me into writing a romantic thriller, I am not into the romance genre though people claim me to write that more often. So yeah, I got to cornered in this case. I like fusing two or more genres which I have done in this case. I deliberately based this story to Japan so as to give it a better techno-thriller effect.

Usually I write my fictions in Bangla because I find them well suited when crafted in my mother tongue. But based on requests from my non-Bengali readers, I felt obliged to write something for them. I consider this more like a pilot project, I wrote this in one go and may contain silly typos and the original setting may even change when it gets published in Bangla but the overall plot will remain like this. Please do comment below regarding any suggestion or review. If you want, I can write stories like this even more.

 

Published in Reddit Sci-fi as Creepomaniac: https://www.reddit.com/r/SFstories/comments/5vpzp7/our_moments_together/