City of Screams

by Neil D'Silva

  ‘Did Sanju Kaka drag himself here to call for help from the phone? I should have opened the door earlier.’ Anuj admonished himself for being such as coward.

  He pushed open the door slowly and peeked inside. The room wasn’t lit but he could see some light from the street lamps peeking in through the half open window. Anuj realized that he would have to step inside to get a better look.

  He called out, “Sanju kaka… are you here?” and took a step inside.

  What he saw inside blew his mind.

  A man, badly injured, lay on the floor. Hubert and two other men were standing over him. Anuj couldn’t see the injured man’s face initially. But he then turned over. He wasn’t Sanju Kaka.

  It was him!

  Anuj lost his abilities of comprehension. He felt his brains would explode. The sights of himself lying there on the floor, bloodied, with three men standing over him hit him with the impact of a battering ram.

  He collapsed. He kept staring at his own face streaked in blood and he felt his insides churning. No, this wasn’t a dream. It had outlived that possibility a while ago.

  One of the men was Sanju Kaka. Their eyes were bloodshot and they were laced with the most sinister look on their faces he had ever seen. Then, registering his presence, all three men turned at once and looked at him standing at the door. But they didn’t seem to mind him. They just smiled at him and Anuj could see that their teeth were mottled black.

  They turned again to the Anuj lying on the floor. Their motions were slow and oddly in sync with each other. Like this was some well-choreographed dance. Like a well-rehearsed mime. Like they had done this so many times that it had attained a degree of sick perfection.

  All three of them bent together and Anuj noticed te blood on their hands. Lots of it. Their uniforms were torn and filthy. They picked up the Anuj lying on the floor and slowly carried him to a half open window.

  Anuj saw that his alter-ego’s left leg was bent at an unnatural angle from the knee. As it dangled, a steady trickle of blood flowed from where the bones protruded. The Anuj they were carrying looked at the Anuj standing in the room with an unsaid plea in his eyes. He was writhing in pain. But Anuj was glued to his place.

  The men carried the injured Anuj to the window. The third unnamed man pushed the half-open window. All of them turned again to look at standing Anuj, their faces turning with the same sickly expression on them like three turning doll-heads. The smiles stayed as sinisterly expressionless as they had been throughout, and then without the slightest flicker in their eyes, they threw the injured Anuj out of the window.

  That unshook Anuj from his trance. Screaming in agony as if he himself had been thrown, he ran to the window immediately.

  But he could do nothing as he saw himself falling down from the third floor onto the concrete pavement.

  And then hitting it with a sick splat.

  ***

  8:30 a.m.

  A persistent ring on the mobile woke Anuj up. He picked up the phone groggily and saw Rashmi’s number flashing on the screen. Still struggling to open his sleepy eyes, he took the call.

  “Where are you, Anuj? Haven’t you reached the client’s office? You are not even answering their calls?” Rashmi threw in one question after the other.

  He was now wide awake and utterly confused. Rashmi went on asking him questions. He told Rashmi that he would call the client back right then and reach his office in 10 minutes. He lied about being stuck in the traffic, an excuse that sounds most plausible in Mumbai.

  “Don’t mess this up, Anuj. Boss is closely monitoring this deal,” Rashmi shot at him before ending the call.

  Anuj sat up straight in his bed and tried to think about the last night. ‘That was one hell of a dream!’—he thought to himself. He looked at the watch and realized that he was really very late. He would have to skip breakfast and still wouldn’t be able to reach on time. He went into the bathroom for a quick shower.

  He also decided that he would check out from the hotel right then and wait at the airport for his late-night flight back to Indore. The dream was too creepy. He didn’t want to spend another night there.

  Anuj got ready in the next 10 minutes and went to the reception. But there was another man instead of Hubert at the reception, who looked strikingly similar to the third man from his dream. Anuj brushed that thought aside quickly. All he had to do was check out from this goddamned place.

  In as few words as he could, Anuj informed the receptionist that he would be checking out. No, it did not matter that he had a booking for two nights. Yes, their hospitality was great, thank you.

  The man at the reception tried to convince him to stay back but Anuj refused every insistent argument and stepped out. He had already booked a cab on his app. He decided to wait for it outside, not wanting to stay in the hotel a moment longer.

  The place had livened up with the usual morning activities of an urban city. Rickshaws, buses, and cabs were ferrying passengers to their offices and other destinations. People were briskly walking up and down the streets, their minds full of purpose. Roadside hawkers and shops were gearing up for another day of business.

  Anuj waited patiently. He let the thoughts of last night be taken over by the thoughts of the impending meeting.

  Then, his trance was broken by a call.

  Anuj fished out the phone to see who was calling but glare of the morning sun made it difficult for him to read the screen. He turned around and tried to use his palm to block the sun. It was an unknown number. He took it, expecting it to be from the client’s office.

  “Good morning, sir. I am calling from traveldost.com. You had made a hotel booking with us yesterday,” a girl on the other end said.

  Anuj answered in affirmation.

  “Sir, we see that you have travelled to Mumbai on the booked ticket but you did not check into the hotel. We wanted to understand if there is something wrong at our end.”

  Anuj did a doubletake right there on the street. “What do you mean? I checked into the hotel and stayed there last night. I just checked out. Check your records, madam.”

  There was an uneasy pause. Then, the girl said, “Sir, I checked again. The hotel has confirmed a ‘no show’. You didn’t check into this hotel.”

  Now, Anuj lost his cool. “Madam, I am still standing right in front of your hotel. It is near Safed Pool in Sakinaka.”

  There was a long pause at the other end this time.

  “Sir, the property at Safed Pool was closed down two years ago. We had sent you the address of the new property,” the girl said, her voice sounding strangely mechanical.

  “What nonsense! Let me send you a picture of it right away!” He turned around to face the hotel.

  That was when the ground beneath his feet slid away.

  There was no Hotel Comfort Inn. All he could see were the ruins of a building on a deserted plot. Anuj’s mouth fell open. He looked around and ran to a hawker who was arranging his items on his cart. “What happened to the hotel that was here? Where did it go? It was right here just now, wasn’t it?” he asked the visibly irritated hawker.

  “Are you drunk at this hour? The hotel closed down two years ago after that man jumped from the third floor. Dreaming with your eyes open or what?” With that, the man sniggered at Anuj and got back to this work.

  Anuj looked back at the ruins of the hotel. He needed to sit to avoid fainting from the shock and also to comfort the sharp pain rising in his left knee. A beep on the mobile brought him back to his senses. It was a message from Hotel Comfort Inn.

  “We hope you had a comfortable stay. Your comfort is paramount.”

  ABOUT DEEPALI ADHIKARY

  Deepali Joshi Adhikary is an Indore based freelance writer and blogger. She blogs at kolorpencil.com and contributes to various websites and online publications. She has also worked with brands as social influencer. Her writing portfolio spans across light-hearted humor to social issues, parenting challenges, review of books and anything that stim
ulates a thought process. She has won many accolades for short stories and articles. Her debut e-book Cross Connection is available on Amazon.

  An ex-banker, Deepali is also a corporate trainer associated with various organizations for delivery training sessions across India. When she is not writing or training, she likes to read or watch movies.

  La Marvel Colony

  Charmaine deSouza

  The moving van screeched to an abrupt halt inches in front of the metallic red Baleno. Kristen covered her eyes reflexively. Michael chuckled at his wife. The driver and his companion jumped out of the van and flung the doors open. Their team was ready to unload the truckload of furniture.

  Kristen looked around at their new surroundings. The long, narrow road, houses built close together. It wasn’t as “suburban” as she had imagined. The houses were not even aesthetically planned, apart from the older bungalows that seemed like they had been there for decades. The homes opposite their duplex didn’t look modern and stood out like sore thumbs. Kristen thought they looked charming.

  “La Marvel Colony,” Michael smiled. “Who would have thought I’d be moving here? I remember spending a huge chunk of my childhood here, hanging out with the kids from the neighborhood.”

  “Posh,” Kristen’s tone oozed sarcasm.

  Everyone knew that La Marvel Colony was an upscale place of the 70s, 80s, and 90s. It was nicknamed “Beverly Hills 90210 of Goa” in jest. The residents were a mix of middleclass, upper middleclass, and high society. The houses matched their financial statuses. It used to be a charming place with lots of empty spaces. The homes were spread around. Four generations of children had grown up there and if the trees and walls could talk, they would be full of the most exciting stories.

  “Michael!” Kristen nudged her husband. “Are we going in or we going to stand here baking in the morning sun, daydreaming about our childhood?”

  “Aren’t you a ray of sunshine today?” he stuck his tongue out at her.

  “So mature, Michael… so mature,” Kristen sighed and shook her head slowly.

  “Take a deep breath, Ten,” he said, following his own advice. “The smell of the salt in the air is strong. Look at this place! We are surrounded by the sea. I can’t wait to explore the area again.”

  Kristen rolled her eyes at Michael. “Before you do all that, please let’s get our stuff indoors and start getting organized.”

  Michael opened the gates to their new residence and led the moving team in. Kristen stood outside and looked around one more time. It was 10 a.m. on a weekday and there was no one in sight. The house at the far end was closed up. The house next door was closed; the windows were shut and the curtains were drawn. She could have sworn she saw movement behind the curtains. She shrugged it off and entered the house.

  She wasn’t too thrilled moving into the colony. It was a fair distance from her parents who were in Aldona, a charming village in North Goa. Now that was home! Not here in some pseudo-suburban area. No, she hated this place already and they had even not moved in completely yet. She had made a conscious choice to leave her cat Gizmo and her dog Bundy with her parents and younger siblings.

  “Welcome to my humble abode, m’lady,” Michael bowed clumsily.

  “Jackass!” she chuckled and went serious all of a sudden. “It’s not home without Gizmo and Bundy.”

  “You know they aren’t too far away,” he squinted at her. “We’re not in Timbuktu. We can visit them every weekend and holiday, and your parents too. Anyway, your mother, Anna Marie, and Seby will be here as soon as we’ve settled in. Maybe we can get Gizmo and Bundy here too.”

  “Maybe,” Kristen looked around, studying their new home.

  All the boxes and furniture had been piled around the entrance and the hallway. Michael followed her gaze.

  “We should start unpacking,” he stated the obvious.

  “We should,” she nodded absentmindedly.

  “You’re a million miles away,” he observed. “What’s up?’

  “I… this place… it’s just weird,” she burst out. “There’s just… I don’t know… it’s weird.”

  “Weird as in ‘homesick-weird’ or weird as in ‘weird’?” he raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s difficult to explain,” she shrugged. “It’s a little past 10 a.m. and there was not a soul in sight. The road was deserted. No one’s windows are open. Their curtains are drawn. Don’t you think it’s a wee bit strange?”

  Michael furrowed his eyebrows. “From what I can remember, it has always been rather quiet around here.”

  “That was, what… almost thirty years ago?” she looked him in the eye. “Things have changed from then to now, in case you haven’t noticed. I don’t know what it looked like in the last century w when you set foot here.”

  “Haha! Funny!” he scoffed. “NOT! Just FYI, WE set foot here first a couple of years ago when we decided to buy this section of the duplex.”

  “Which none of your childhood ‘friends’ bothered to tell you about,” she mocked him.

  “They might have, had they still been living here. but they’ve all moved out. Some aren’t in the country anymore,” he retorted picking up the box of crockery. “Where does this box go?”

  “It says ‘Crockery’. Logically that would be the kitchen.” She turned her back abruptly and went upstairs.

  “Road-facing or sea-facing?” she asked herself peeping into the spacious bedrooms. “Sea-facing, though all I can see is a backyard. This room has a balcony.”

  She opened the door and stepped out. There was a ladder leading up to the roof. Her curiosity got the better of her and she climbed up. She stepped out on the landing at the top of the ladder and looked around. She could see the horizon, the British cemetery, the fort wall, and the steeple of the governor’s palace in the west. She could see Fort Aguada in the North and the Marmagoa Harbour in the south. She wasn’t high enough to get to see anything in the east. The view was definitely to kill for. There was a gentle breeze that carried the smell of the ocean with it. She turned toward the horizon. The trawlers bobbing on the azure waters looked like tiny dots.

  “I think I might be wrong about this place,” she thought. “I love this view. The pictures I can paint. The photographs I can take and maybe sell on eBay.”

  “Ten,” her husband yelled out.

  “Right here,” she yelled back hoping to see some signs of life.

  “Where’s here?” he sounded confused.

  “On the roof,” she hollered. “There’s a ladder just outside the bedroom facing west.”

  He found her staring out to sea and handed her a beer.

  “Cheers to new beginnings,” he opened his can and grinned at her boyishly as they clinked cans.

  They spent the rest of the day organizing their furniture, hauling things around and putting their possessions away. The bedrooms had built in cupboards and the beds were all custom-made. They had leftover sandwiches from lunch and settled in early for the night. Kristen’s head began to spin or was the room spinning? The past and present seemed to amalgamate into nothingness. Kristen felt as though she was being enveloped by darkness. She felt suffocated. Everything went blank.

  ***

  Lexi swung the door of her house open and stepped into the hallway. Worn out from the events of the day, she slammed the door shut behind her. She flung her scarf and handbag carelessly on the side table and kicked off her heels as she proceeded to her bedroom. She grabbed a can of beer on the way. She had a hurried shower and flopped on the queen-sized bed.

  “Lexi? Lexi? Wake up darling,” a gentle voice whispered through the semi-darkness of the room.

  “Mum?” Lexi woke up with a start and groped for the light switch. She turned on her bedside lamp.

  The room was now bright enough to see that there was no one there. She glanced sleepily at the clock on her side table. It was 3 a.m.

  “Lexi,” the voice whispered again.

  “Mum?” she stepped on the soft rug str
ategically placed to prevent her from having contact with the stone-cold floor, avoiding her lazy cat Max who was always asleep by her bedside. He didn’t stir. She slipped her slender feet into her bedroom slippers and headed for the door.

  “Lexi, come to me, my darling,” the voice coaxed her.

  “Yea, Mum, I’ll be there in a sec,” she was getting agitated but tried to sound patient.

  Max let out a bloodcurdling yowl. Lexi swung around.

  “Max,” Lexi turned to her bedroom door that had slammed shut. “Max!”

  Lexi tried to run but her legs felt like lead. Her cat howled piteously. Her panic levels increased. Adrenaline pumped through veins. She woke up with a jolt. Confused, she studied her surroundings. Her eyes fell on the clock. It was 7 a.m. She had an hour to get ready and be at work on time for a job she was not particularly fond of. The day loomed before her.

  ***

  A loud mewing roused Michael from his deep state of slumber. He groaned, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, swung his legs over his side of the bed, and walked over to the window. The mewing didn’t stop. He made his way downstairs without bothering to switch on any lights. His bare feet allowed him stealth. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard the wall strike 3 a.m.

  The mewing grew louder. He switched on the light of their garden and opened the kitchen door. He found himself staring down at a grey tabby cat with striking yellowish-green eyes. The cat held his gaze for a few seconds and bounded indoors as if it was familiar with the layout of the house.

  Michael stared after it, feeling mildly surprised and bewildered at the randomness of a stray cat.

  “Friendly neighborhood cat,” he smirked as he closed the door. “Even the animals are domesticated and free.”