Not-So-Short Stories

Asymmetric-1

2010-03-12T12:21:00.001-08:00

I was running as fast as I could. Weaving through the smattering of people, deftly avoiding obstacles; I even managed to make a mental note about a banner I saw. All the fast running in the world, however, was not going to help me be on-time for the class. That may partly have been because I had realized that I had a class to attend only five full minutes after its start time. There were other causes too, but, those I will come to later.

There I stood, huffing and puffing like the most powerful wolf in town, at the entrance to the lecture hall (not classroom). It was funny what lengths people would go to trying to act grown up. The professor was thankfully busy writing lengthy equations on the board. This meant that I was ushered into the classroom (sorry, lecture hall) with a grunt and a wave of the free hand.

Apart from the normal reasons for disliking lateness, I was suddenly confronted with the worst one. I called it "The Blare"; short for "The Blank Stare". No one had paid attention to the professor rambling or writing on the board, but, a late-comer made all the little meerkats look up. I imagined myself being some alien from a sci-fi show that can only move when no one is looking at it. Had I been such a creature, my dear classmates would be spared a gruesome and painful death (for now). Of course, I would be lying if I said that I never blared anyone to their place. I have tried controlling it, as I am sure, have other people. But, I discovered later that human eyes are built to focus on moving objects; something to do with detecting predators.

I reached my desk safely, cursing at my inability to strike at my potential victims. I pulled my notebook and pen from my bag and set them on the table. With that ritual complete, I moved to the next step, sinking to the mindless stupor that will help me drown everything out and help me concentrate on the important things in life. Things like, wondering what new tragedy is going to befall the captain of the spaceship tonight in my new favorite T.V. series. Just as I was getting to the part about his ship being blown up, I was nudged out of my trance by my classmate, nay, benchmate. His eyes were wide open and his lips sealed. He was looking straight ahead, frozen in place like a cat sensing danger, ready to flee. Before I could ask him what his bleeding problem was I heard a voice call my name out. If I had been the kind of student who paid attention in class I would know that the voice belonged to my professor. However, I had to reach that conclusion through careful deduction of the fact that no one would be calling anyones name out during a lecture, except the professor.

I looked up slowly and found my deductions to be accurate. My professor, however, was not aware of my breakthrough, hence did not allow me time to pat myself on the back before asking me to stand up. I stood up; there was no other alternative. Not knowing if I had done something wrong, I had no reason to be shameful. As a result, I looked straight into the eyes of my suitor and spoke.

"Yes, sir?"

Preferring not to grace my response with any sort of acknowledgement, he proceeded to ask me a question. Having never concentrated on his speaking before, I found myself drifting into the analysis of his speech patterns, the phrases he was using and the hint of an accent. By the time I was reaching the conclusion of my hastily begun research, he was done with his asking and was now waiting for me to begin the answering.

My facial expression must never have been as blank during all those lecture-trances as it was just then. I checked the board to see if I could glean the question he was asking me; not even caring about the answer.

"Psst! It's asymmetric!"

The voice was barely audible and I dared not turn to look at the person trying to help me. I had no reasons to believe that the answer was correct, but, reasons are a luxury afforded only to those with time. I had no time, hence, did not look for any reasons.

"Asymmetric, sir."

The inflated chest of the professor went down about an inch and the taunt he was ready to deliver had been stopped before it even began. His face lost its smile and not bothering to tell me to sit back down; he simply motioned with his hand.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned around to face my savior. Words suddenly failed me. I had never seen her in the class before, or maybe I had just never noticed her. Yet, there she was. Long, soft hair flowed over her ears down to her shoulders. Her skin was soft and smooth. Her eyes held the softest of expressions and her lips curved softly into an enchanting smile. She was the epitome of softness, this girl. This is what evolution would gloat about to all other theories; 'I created this!', I'm sure it would say in glee.

I wondered what I should say to her. Maybe I should thank her for the help, or should I introduce myself? Maybe I should ask for her hand in marriage, or at least, ask her out for a coffee. Or maybe...

"Who are you?"

-- To Be Continued

The Would-Be-Bride

2008-09-02T09:55:00.000-07:00

Written for Upasana Gala... Idea supplied by Upasana Gala

She didn't know how long she was going to have to sit in front of that fire. The fire that was supposed to signify the God of Fire Himself presiding over the ceremony and bearing witness to it.

Her husband-to-be had not come yet. In fact, he had not been seen the whole day.

She was getting worried. So were both the families. He had last been seen with a good friend the night before. He was leaving with that friend to enjoy "one final night of freedom" (as he jokingly put it). No one knew what time he had come home, or if he had come home at all. The friend was nowhere to be found either.

As time passed, theories as to his whereabouts became more and more gruesome due to which, they were not vocalized as much. The mother of the groom was suffering a nervous breakdown and had at least 4 people tending to her. Not because, she demanded it, instead it was the people who were anxious to occupy their minds with some work or the other, just to keep unwanted thoughts out.

All his favorite haunts were visited, all his friends were contacted even the possibilities of him eloping with someone else had not been left unexplored.

The people closest to the groom were busy trying to find him. The people closest to the bride offered all the resources at their disposal to help find him. Most of the remaining people had left. The few that remained were talking amongst themselves. They talked about the unreliability of 'the younger generation'. They talked of the groom being an alcoholic and how nothing good could come from such a habit. None bothered about keeping their voices low. That would beat the very purpose of the talking.

In all the commotion, the bride sat forgotten. Bedecked in expensive jewelery wrought from the best quality of precious metals, she merely sat; unable to move a muscle. She wasn't crying, she wasn't doing anything. This inactivity, however, could not be mistaken for lethargy. Her mind was racing with a thousand thoughts making their way in and out. She heard every voice in the room, she was waiting for someone to say 'We found him!'.

No one ever did.

---

It is now a year since that day. Today would have been their first wedding anniversary, had he ever made it to the wedding.

Soon after that day his name had been added to the missing persons list, a list which already ran into the tens of thousands.

As she wakes up today, she doesn't know what she should do. She wonders how she is ever going to get through this day. She takes in a deep breath, gets off the bed, completes her morning routine and finally leaves her home as if she was merely leaving to meet with a friend of hers. She nods and smiles in the direction of the guard sitting atop a stool at the entrance of her apartment building. As he holds the door open for her she says 'Thank You!' and smiles and nods in the direction of the guard.

That is the last anyone is going to see of her.

Like her husband, she too seems to have fallen off the face of the earth. It is thought that she might have taken her own life, not being able to cope with the loss of her husband.

This theory is confirmed but only partially. Her family rummages through her room looking for some clue that might tell them where she could be. That is when they find the letter. It is placed in an envelope addressed, very simply, to 'You'.

"Don't look for me, there isn't any point.

Just know that where I am no one can touch me or harm me.

You may not know this, but I killed him.

I know I don't need to tell you who I am talking about, you know it already.

Don't ask me why I did it. I won't tell you. Only know that he knew why he died and he accepted that he deserved to die.

I know I don't need to give you any proof of any kind. You already believe me. But, maybe you need to see him 'One Last Time'? Behind this page are directions that will take you to where his and his friends body is buried. I should warn you that it has been a year, so you might want to take it out cautiously, it is going to raise quite a stink.

I'll leave now."

Behind the page is a neatly drawn map along with detailed directions both pointing to the place where the body of her would-be husband has laid for a year.

Banter

2008-03-30T08:41:00.000-07:00

A couple...
The girl is in italics...

"So this is where you live?"

"Yes, you like it?"

"It's... it's beautiful!"

"Do you really think so, or are you just saying that?"

"I love it, I couldn't have hoped for a better place."

"Now I know you're just saying it for my sake, this place is very nearly a dump."

"A well-cared for dump."

"Yes, that it is."

"Well...?"

"Well what?"

"Are you going show me around? Do I need any 'orientation' or maybe some vaccination?"

"Now that was funny."

"I don't see you laughing?"

"I'm trying very hard to control my laughter. Positively struggling to not let it out."

"Hmmm, in that case, I am going to kiss you before you burst out laughing."

"That seems like a good idea."

"I've always loved how you kiss me."

"Why thank you. I've heard many good things about my technique."

"From whom, your pillows?"

"And the back of my hand."

"And me."

"Oh yes, you too."

"Now before we get carried away, I want to see the full apartment and I want to fix you dinner."

"What are we having?"

"Other than each other, I thought we could have some simple and very sinful chocolate mousse preceded by some heavenly portions of that spaghetti you love so much."

"You're going to kill me with all this sugar and starch, I love it. It's a wonderful way to die."

"Don't die just yet, there's a lot more than that waiting for you after the dinner."

"Interesting, but getting back to your original question, there isn't much to show you in this place. There's my room, I mean, our room, a guest room and the kitchen. Pretty simple isn't it."

"Simple enough. Now you go lie down and get yourself some sleep so I can change into my dutiful housewife costume and cook my man his dinner."

"I doubt I can handle a dutiful wife but I still like the idea of great food after great sleep."

"Sleep then, and you will have the great food waiting for you once you wake up."

"I can't hardly wait, Good night!"

***

"That was faster than expected."

"Good morning Sunshine!"

"Good evening you mean. You hardly slept an hour."

"Really? It felt like a whole night's worth of sleep. I feel like I'm fully rested."

"That's good, that'll make it easier for you to sit down and dig in."

"This food is amazing."

"That's all it is? Just, amazing?"

"I can't think of a better word."

"I can."

"Oh can you now? Please, enlighten me with this superlative description of your own handiwork."

"It's poisoned."

Tamanna

2007-12-12T19:29:00.000-08:00

The bus was stationary, standing directly opposite the bus-stop. From where I was sitting all I could see was her face. It was resting on palms which in turn were resting on her knees, which had been brought close to her mid-rib. She was looking straight ahead but not at anyone in particular. I imagine her name must be something strong, something like Tamanna.

Her forehead was showing lines of worry, I wondered what she was worrying about. Was it work-related, or was someone in her family in trouble? Maybe she had just lost something very important to her...

Her eyes were moist, she had been crying. I didn't know who she was, but I wanted to know what was troubling her. I wanted to share her sorrows, I wanted to let her know that she was not alone.

All of a sudden she started rummaging through her backpack. After a few seconds of frantic searching she quickly extracted her cell-phone, it was ringing. One look at the number instantly brought a smile to her beautiful face. She knew this person and was apparently very glad he/she had called. She answered it and gave a hearty laugh. It brought about an unmistakable change on her face. She looked young and free; no trace of her earlier sorrow was now evident in her face.

I didn't know what forced me to do it, but, I decided at that very instant to find out who she was. I got off the bus and moved toward her slowly. She didn't notice the man coming toward her, I was just another person getting off a bus to catch another one. I was standing next to her, leaning against the bus-stop; trying very hard not to look at her. But, I invariably did look at her; her beauty, her clothes, her bag and also her cell-phone.

The bus had arrived and I found a place a few seats behind her. She took a ticket and brought to my attention the one detail I hadn't thought of; I needed to take a ticket, yet I didn't know where I was headed. An idea struck me; I stood up and my way to where Tamanna was sitting. I glanced down discreetly and tried to see the price of the ticket she had taken, luckily she still held the ticket in her hands. Knowing the price, though, was not enough; I had to know where to actually go. Right then I heard another man nearby purchasing a ticket. I would not have looked had Tamanna not looked up; I tried to see what the ticket price was and sure enough it was the same.

Having safely procured the ticket all I could do was wait for Tamanna to get up. I kept my eyes fixed on the back of her head and impatiently waited. Eventually she got up and so did I. I got off the bus and saw that she had already started walking down a street adjacent to the bus-stop.

Keeping a safe distance I trailed her. I still didn't know what I was doing or what I was going to do once she entered her home. I kept trying to push that little detail out of my head, but it kept coming back to nag me. Could I try and talk to her? I did have a reasonable pretext of beginning conversation, we had both been at the same bus-stop, traveled on the same bus and alighted at the same bus-stop too (the fact that the whole ordeal had been orchestrated by me need not be mentioned). There was only one flaw: I would be expected to have some knowledge about the neighborhood I was in right now, I had none.

I had been thinking so intently thinking that when I now looked around I could no longer see Tamanna. Another scan of the area showed that contrary to losing ground I had made it up and was moving rather closer to her than when I started. Still walking at the same brisk pace I didn't notice the drunken man making his way in the opposite direction drawing ever closer. This resulted in an almighty crash and the man was flung back, his bottle came crashing to the ground and shattered on impact spilling the alcohol.

The fallen man had instantly began flinging curse after curse at me. He seemed to have a problem not just with me but with the rest of my family too. I held out a hand to let the man up, not listening to a word he was shouting; I was scanning the crowd that had now gathered around us for Tamanna. I almost felt like calling out to her, that would have been stupid because she was not supposed to know I was following her and I didn't know her name. The man could hardly stand up on his own two feet but once up and wobbling his demeanor changed from that of boiling rage to one of warm and overwhelming gratitude.

I left him where he stood and ran in the approximate direction of where Tamanna might have gone. I was running because I was looking for her, but I was surprised when I did find her. I hadn't expected to see her ever again. I saw her and noticed that something was wrong. She had seen me!

Her pace had quickened and she kept glancing back at me. I too, had kept moving. I was moving in a state I couldn't describe, my legs were moving without any clear command. I was following her even without wanting to do so anymore. The urge to follow had only been there till she had not noticed me, but now that she had, her whole body had changed. She was stiffly moving forward and as she sped up I broke into a jog. Petrified, she did the same thing.

Looking back on it now, I can't help but feel ashamed. I was responsible for her not noticing that speeding bike. I was the reason she had been flung into the air by the sheer force of the impact. It was because of me that her last words were calls for her mother amidst loud screams of pain. People who had gathered at the spot said she had lost too much blood. That had been her Cause Of Death, but I knew better.

I don't remember much of what I had done after I had seen that happen. I had just stood rooted to the spot watching the ambulance cart her off. I had reached home some time early in the morning of the next day; I had walked home.

It's been a year to her death, but it feels as if I have just come back home after walking all night. I was a coward for not stepping up and helping her or even talking to her before hand, maybe that could have avoided everything. I feel like a much bigger coward now; but I just hope this fall kills me and I may see her again and I may be able to apologize to her... maybe I'll ask her what her name is.

Love,
Raunak.

Seeing her

2007-11-30T20:16:00.000-08:00

He was sitting at his desk looking at everybody walk in and talk to each other. Some moved to the coffee machine while some decided to visit the restrooms. By the time everyone was in, he had sorted through all his papers and was just idling at his station staring at a ladybug trying to make her way up to his desk. Once on top the bug made a beeline for the wall, he picked up the newspaper, rolled it up and was about to strike when he heard it. The voice was one he had remembered like the back of his hand. It brought the memories of Natasha flooding back and for a fleeting second he had a smile on his face. The smile vanished as soon as rational thought took over. He knew there was no way this was Natasha; thinking like that was only inviting more sadness. He kept staring at the wall straining to hear the voice, but couldn’t hear it anymore. He was about to get up and make sure no one was there when he heard her laughter. There was no doubting it, it was much closer than before and her voice was clear and loud, exactly as he remembered it. He stood up, and looked around. Where was she? Had nobody else heard her voice? None of the people in the office seemed to be bothered about the laughter which, incidentally, had now stopped again.

“Did you hear that?” He asked frantically to the man sitting in the cubicle adjacent to his.

“Hear what?”

“The laughter, that loud laughter! Did you not hear it?”

“I did, but what about it?”

Aditya didn’t know what to say to this. He didn’t know what to do now. He stepped out of the cubicle and went around the office looking for the source of the laughter. A second later he heard the laughter, it left no doubt in his mind that it was Natasha’s voice, he turned in the direction of the voice and there she was.

She looked as beautiful as ever. Though it had only been a month since he had seen her it felt like he had missed for ages, seeing her now quenched his thirst for her at once. Aditya’s heart was beating hard for the first time in a month and he felt it. He smiled at the sight of her, just because he knew how happy she made him. He almost called out her name, but didn’t know if he should. She had come back, but not to him, no, she had come back to the office and he had to understand that. Not once had he mentioned to her how he had felt about her, he didn’t think it was necessary.

“Our love doesn’t need to be proclaimed, it has to be felt and we both feel it” He had thought like this only until he had lost her, only then had he realized what a blunder that had been.

All this time he had stood rooted to the spot just staring at her, Natasha now looked up and saw him standing there. She smiled and made his way to him. Aditya was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize till she reached very close to him. Her touch brought him back to earth with a resounding thud.

“How have you been?” She asked still smiling at the expression on his face.

“I love you,” he blurted out without thinking, eliciting a lovely laugh from her, “I mean, I’ve been doing alright, how about you?”

“Well, I’ve not been bad myself and, by the way, I love you too.”

At those words his whole body went weak. He loved her and she loved him, there was nothing left to do. The ringing of a telephone suddenly reminded of the face that they were standing in the middle of the office and everybody was trying to avoid their eyes, some were even smiling. He felt a surge of warmth run through his body.

“Let’s get to somewhere a little more private.”

She laughed again and said, “Yes, let’s.”

I haven't read this, I've just written it...

2007-11-24T05:11:00.000-08:00

Not once did he look behind...
He didn't care about what he was leaving. He didn't want to care anymore. What was really ironic was the fact that his own thoughts were not under his control. He did care about everything. Over the years he had become so adept at hiding his thoughts and feelings from those round him, that the line between others and himself seemed to have faded. The conflicts raging on his mind, were fueled by the words of so many people who had tried to help him.
The decision had not really been made by him; things just happened. He had done things without thinking and knew that those deeds could never be undone. What had looked like the best, no, the only solution to his problems felt like it had been one of the worst decisions of his short life.

My life. I don't know about everybody else, but to me, my life feels so burdened. It feels like in the span of a few ears I have undergone a tremendous amount of change, yet it can not be anything compared to the lives of the people who have t much worse than this. To each his own, indeed.

A happy man can have the ability to turn even the largest of setbacks into a source of joy and maintain his happiness, without losing sight of the pain and anguish the people closest to his heart may be suffering. An unhappy man will refuse to see the joy in even the most festive of occasions. He is a man who will blind himself, knowingly or unknowingly, to the love he is given by all that are around him and in the process, not love them in return.

3.g

2007-05-12T04:35:00.000-07:00

The owner of this house had built it nearly a hundred and twenty years ago. He had died shortly aftet the completion of the construction. His dying wish was to be buried in the house itself next to his wife, who had died nearly a month before he did. In fact, at that time it was believed that he had died only due to the immense grief that came over him when she died. It had been his request to have her buried in the house and for him to be buried alongside her.
The reason the tomb was being searched for was because once found, it would help them lay bare the secrets of the house and so help them counter its actions.
Finding the house had been fairly easy, all they had to do was ask the villagers (who were a little disappointed on noticing they were not from the media) where the haunted house was. It wasn't really haunted but the villagers' stories all suggested the presence of ghosts. Once in the compound they proceeded to the great doors. The moment the team leader set foot on the threshold of the house they heard a loud thud coming from the inside, it sounded like a large latch was being unbolted, giving rise to a plume of dust. It then proceeded to slowly open inwards. What was strange was that despite the look of old age the doors seemed like they were as good as new,they didn't creak once during the whole time they were opening.

3.f

2007-05-12T04:34:00.001-07:00

He woke up refreshed, but sad. The sun greeted him as usual thanks to his east facing window which was large and gave a spectacular view of the sunrise. He loved mornings. He loved the cool breeze that always greeted him when he opened his window. Mornings were the only time of the day that he liked his little home, otherwise he detested his apartment for the leaking, creaking and smelly death trap that it was. He looked at the date in his wall clock, 7th of March it only been a month, but felt much longer. He remembered leaving his apartment on the 5th of February, he had assembled his team of four men and three women and set off for the house, in the little village. He had known its comlete history and knew what was in store for his team, but, still he went through with the mission, why? The only answer he could think of was that he wanted to do something positive and memorable before he succumbed to death, might as well be something that would cause it. His team's mission had been to gain access into the house and find its owners tomb, which had been built inside it, in secret.

3.e

2007-05-12T04:33:00.001-07:00

One such man was the one that walked out nearly a year ago, he came out in the usual way, dazed but calm. He had walked slowly to his van and used his keys to drive away. In the car he didn't talk, look around, remove his suit or stop to eat or drink anything, in fact he had hardly even breathed. He kept driving to his destination with calm deliberation. It took him a total of six hours to reach his destination. he had parked in the empty space present for him and moved to the inside of the nondescript office building. As he walked hardly anybody noticed him walking in, those that did looked away quickly as if looking at him would've inflicted some incurable disease upon them. He went to an empty room where he removed his protective clothing and hung it up on a hook on an adjacent wall. After doing this he again started walking but this time out of the office and to his own car. Again he drove for nearly a half hour after which he reached the apartment in which he had a two bedroom flat. He went up to his room, unlocked the door and went directly to his bed and slept.

3.d

2007-05-12T04:32:00.000-07:00

It was one of the many things the house could do, anyone and everyone physically involved with this place had always suffered from terrifying nightmares. Nobody alive in this village today knew this fact as nobody suffered from those problems, but they did remember their elders talking about nightmares they had had about the violent and painful deaths of many of their relatives and friends. Stories of this sort were always passed on to the press with, a sizable helping of gory and chilling details that may not have happened.

Media and curious people aside, the house was visited by another group of people at various intervals of time. These were individuals or teams of individuals, who were anywhere between five to ten in no., who called themselves scientists and came here to observe and sometimes try to solve this mysterious puzzle. They came fairly often and looked like they were always wearing protection suits even before they got out of their van. None of the villagers knew who they were or why they wore the strange suits, as far as they could tell the house did not emit any noxious fumes. The people who saw these men had learned to wipe any recollection of these men & women out of their minds. This was because they knew that wonder led to curiosity and curiosity led to stupidity, they had lost quite a few curious people to the house and did not want to be next on the list. Another reason these incidents were never talked about or mentioned was because once gone the teams never came back out, all except one member would be lost inside the house forever. The one that did come out would quietly and calmly walk out of the building and get into the van in which the team had come, once inside he would drive off in an orderly fashion and go back to wherever he came from in the first place.

3.c

2007-05-12T04:31:00.002-07:00

Of all the people currently alive here, not one was old enough to say they had actually seen it being built. All the stories they “knew” were a result of the old tales that had been passed down from generation to generation as warnings and threats given by parents to their curious sons and daughters to keep them away from the house.
People had tried to enter the house on some remote occasions. These were mostly outsiders who came from big cities to look at the house and try to enter to find out its secrets, they were duly warned and threatened by the villagers not to do so, but they did try. The most common visitors were from the electronic or print media, they came, they studied and they tried, none got in. They had to satisfy themselves with a few interviews from older villagers, who wouldn't tell them a thing unless some form of payment was offered by the inquirer. On getting what they had wanted they would talk about the satanic noises coming from the house nearly every Tuesday night (the day the owner had supposedly died), they would never fail to mention that they too had been “tested” by the house and after passing through the deepest circles of hell they were sent back to earth with nothing to show for it but the most horrifying nightmares anyone could possibly imagine. All of this was obviously completely false, it was part of the stories the villagers had cooked up long ago, to keep the media as well as themselves satisfied. The house had never been heard making any kind of noise whatsoever, all it ever did, was look ominous. It had not put the villagers through any kind of “test” since there was no villager stupid enough to go near it. The only unwitting glimmer of truth present in the accounts was the part about the terrible dreams.

3.b

2007-05-12T04:31:00.001-07:00

Standing at the threshold of the vast building and looking up and around it, gave the illusion of the house not only rising very high up into the sky but also stretching very far on both sides, a second look after taking a few steps back, however, cleared any doubts about its size. The one very distinctly odd feature about the house was its terrace. Though not visible to a person standing outside, anyone on top of the house would easily notice that whoever had built this terrace had either decided not to construct it at all, or had stopped before he could complete it. The reason for this was the fact that all the terrace a contained was a rectangular hole in the ground, which had steps leading down to the lower level, it had did not have any boundary walls so that at the edges there was a three story drop, with nothing to prevent it but the good sense of the person standing there. Also peculiar were the four corners of the terrace, all they contained were four Iron rods which stood 8 feet high, these seemed to have been put there for the construction of the walls but had been left there, when the walls were abandoned. This was a mystery that no one was in a hurry to solve, like many other things about the house this too had earned a place of total indifference and deliberate displays of ignorance in the hearts of the many villagers who lived close to the house.

3.a

2007-05-12T04:29:00.000-07:00

From the outside the house looked old and dilapidated. It was three stories high and gave no distinct impression of its resident evil. The area around the house was surprisingly well maintained and was in sharp contrast with the main building. The way leading up to the house was devoid of dry leaves or filth and the garden surrounding the building was green and lively. To the left and right of the main path were scattered various water features. These were mostly depicting Greek gods, also present were marble statues representing various kings, animals, and even some of a little cupid with his bow and arrow. What was strange about these was that they were all clean and shining in the afternoon sun, the fountains of water spewed only clear water, and the fountains themselves were clear of any moss or algae, just white marble was visible through the crystal clear water. Whoever had been maintaining these statues had forgotten the structure that stood out like a sore thumb in the background.

2.e

2007-01-16T03:26:00.000-08:00

It all began the same way, waking up on the same godforsaken straw bed and looking around trying to make sense of where he was, the realization was never a welcome one. He had suited up and marched for battle the same way every time and the war had begun the same way each time, but as it progressed the tides of the battle would change sometimes more than once in the same battle. But he would end up losing his life, eventually. By now, he had died from a sword to his head, an ax, a spear, arrows; he had even committed suicide in one of the fights. What worried him more was the way in which he was able to recall the whole event in vivid details, unlike the dreams before the battles. He had always wondered why he couldn’t remember dreams so well, as he would strain his mind to remember more he actually ended up forgetting more, that was in the past, twenty three days ago, in fact, these battles always stayed in his head full of lucid details. But even after all these nights he still hadn’t become used to it and still woke up and tried to remind himself that he was still alive. He followed the same routine once he woke up, after jotting down the way he had died this time, he went to his kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, this was practically useless as he couldn’t go back to sleep after waking up anyway. He would then change his cold and drenched night-clothes and get into something dry and warm. Generally, he would just sit on his couch in the darkness and very slowly sip his coffee, waiting for daybreak to provide some light, at which time he would finish up the rest of the coffee and take a short, hot water bath. The scalding water didn’t affect him, he suffered a lot more pain in his sleep. Once he had bathed and worn a clean set of clothes, he would arrange his notes in his briefcase following which, he would leave for work.

2.d

2006-06-23T23:44:00.000-07:00

Instantly other soldiers had started walking onto his body, thinking him dead. He too thought he was dead for an instant, and was just looking at everything lying there. But, in that moment the crushing pain returned to him. He screamed in agony but no one heard him, they thought he was dead. They kept stepping over him awkwardly trying to get proper footing on an uneven body which, worst of all, was trying to get up.

They just kept throwing him back down…

It was then that he sat up, soaked in sweat, he moved his hands around and could only feel his bed, and sheets. He unconsciously rubbed his hand; the pain of broken bone had been so real just a second ago. His clothes too were drenched and clinging to his body, but he could hardly feel them compared to his body armor and the people walking over him, his breathing was coming back to normal slowly, he started thinking again and remembered. Twenty-three. That was the no. of nights he had been part of that gruesome war, each time he died a different way, today was another way, and he hadn’t died before, though he had never screamed in any of the earlier fights. He picked a notebook from his bedside table and jotted down the dream.

2.c

2006-06-16T13:20:00.000-07:00

After about thirty seconds, both his hands were aching and sore, blocking strokes from swords was now too painful, he realized that he had stayed alive until now not due to his prowess as a swordsman but due to the fact that the soldiers around him kept killing the men who were attacking him. But, that protection was decreasing, the men on his side were dying fast, and the enemy showed no sign of stopping or slowing down for that matter. Right then a sword struck his left arm and he felt, and heard the bone break, though he didn’t feel the same amount of pain he would have associated due to a breaking bone. He couldn’t stand anymore, his body was suddenly too heavy for his legs to carry, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

2.b

2006-05-09T04:34:00.000-07:00

Another set of arrows whistled through the air, they were coming down directly above his head; he raised his shield up and bent low. Two arrows caught the shield and a few others got the shields of the soldiers around him. One of the arrows went past the shields and buried themselves in the ground right in front of his left foot. Terror gripped him now greater than ever before. He found it hard to stand up again, the chain link armor he was wearing suddenly got a lot heavier. He was being pushed to the front line fairly quickly; he tightened his grip on his sword and his shield. He kept moving forward and then they were upon him.

The men standing and fighting opposite him slashed at anyone who was not wearing their livery. So, he too came at the receiving end of several blows. The first one he blocked off with difficulty, his shield vibrated under his grip, making it harder to hold. Two more blows came in succession and blocking them was no easier. He tried waving his sword and attacking the men but hit nothing, as his opponents kept fending off his attacks. Blow after blow came at him, the fact that he managed to block nearly every one of them astounded him. He was now getting adept to hitting the sword with some force; he did this by raising it up to a height and then letting it fall on his victim, letting gravity do the job. He even managed to kill one, but he felt neither elated nor sick about doing it.

2.a

2006-05-01T21:14:00.000-07:00

The time had come. All the men standing around him were silent, some dreaded what was about to come, some steeling themselves, but nearly everyone was praying, to whom they did not know. They were just praying they could die an honorable death, though hardly anyone knew what that actually meant, it was a term used all too often.

The battle charge was sounded by the army standing opposite him, and then by his own. The air was now filled the roaring and shouting of everyone on that field. He was not there by choice. He had woken up that morning and found himself on a straw bed in a makeshift tent in the middle of an army camp.

All of that did not matter now; along with the rest of the army, he too had started marching. Slowly the march turned into a sprint as they ran headlong to meet the enemy. As the first lines of people clashed, the y came to a sudden halt, brought about by the presence of the enormous opposing force. They started hacking anything in their path with their swords and daggers and spears. Archers at the back of the lines loosed several hundreds of arrows, almost in sync with the opposing army. As the two sets of arrows made their way many of them met mid air and changed direction. Those that didn’t, however, kept moving forward. Soon, the arrows found their mark, either lodging themselves in the breast-plate, helm, or shield of their enemy. Several men fell and staggered due to this volley, those that didn’t, however, kept moving ahead.

As the soldiers in the front line fell, the ones behind, ruthlessly walked over their lifeless forms to try and kill as many as they could manage. To him all of this was pointless. War was completely illogical. So much of your resources are spent in feeding and raising an army this big, even more resources are consumed in fighting the enemy, yet resources that may be available once victory is achieved, hold more appeal than the ones they already possess. But, right now he had no choice, as much as he loathed it he had to fight nonetheless. As he neared the enemy ranks, he saw a wild passion in their eyes, a passion which declared their need for victory, their desire for power. But, did they know why they were about to die, if they were dead would it make the slightest difference to them if victory was achieved, if they were doing this for “their people” then why were those people completely unaware of their sacrifices. Why would they become just a faceless entity who had done something great for their country, but whose names would be forgotten in a matter of days?

2005-12-25T23:34:00.000-08:00

A long sigh escaped his mouth, he was tired and bored to the extent of sleep. He looked around for the thousandth time,as it seemed to him, since the time he had been here. Nothing was happening, and it was irritating him to no end, the small white room he was sitting in was featureless except for the barren wooden desk and uncomfortable wooden chair that he was bound to. He closed his eyes again trying to feel the door, it was placed seemlessly along the wall. Using his mind he tried to push every part of the wall, but, as before nothing happened now either. Young as he was, he did understand the implications of being caught, though lack of education had made him naive to the power of his captors. To him they were nothing more than petty police keeping him from having his share fun.

1.c

2005-08-31T18:42:00.001-07:00

It took some time for her eyes to get used to the brightness of the room, but no matter how long she stared she could see nothing except white. She could not even distinguish between the walls and ceiling or the floor, everything was just very white. She tried turning around but her feet seemed to be stuck to the floor. She could turn her head back and saw that even the door was not visible, all around her the room was only white, no furniture, nothing at all.

For five minutes she just stood there not knowing what to do, her panic, which had been so high before she had come in, was now completely gone. Though her breathing was still as ragged as before she didn't seem to be worried about it. In fact, she wasn't even worried about the fact that she wasn't worried. She was just curious about what was happening, and that was all.

Her breathing was becoming deeper, and she was finding it steadily more and more difficult to breathe, slowly her chest and head were starting to ache. she even felt very tired and sleepy, and felt as if all that was important right now was to take a nap, and nothing else. She decided that it was going to be impossible while she was standing so it was better to lie down. She went down on her knees and then as she tried lying down she found that her feet were now free to move, she stretched her legs out and found that the floor was quite comfortable. Then laying her head down and curling up she slept soundly... never to wake up again.

1.b

2005-08-31T18:42:00.000-07:00

The torchlight had now completely faded away, she was engulfed by thick darkness. She decided it was safest to move up the staircase rather than search for the door again. In this darkness her instinct told her to move forward rather than backward and so not knowing she was doing it, she started moving upward.
The journey upward was not pleasant in the least, the steps were of an odd length and height which seemed to keep changing. She continually kept stumbling forward, and at one point nearly fell off, but she held on the best she could on the wall. Finally she stepped onto the landing at the end of the staircase, she stood there started shifting the air around, as if trying to shift the darkness away. It was then she noticed that she was panting and sweating profusely, she was surprised to be this tired so soon. As her hand flew in the air it hit a metallic wall on her right, it wasn't right next to her so she moved a little more to the right still hugging the wall. When she reached the wall she started feeling all over it, it felt as if it had been embossed, and very intricately at that, her hand then found the door knob which she quickly turned, she did not know why she wanted to get inside but she just had a strong feeling that, going through that door was the only way she was going to be safe.
A sense of urgency had taken over her, though her surrounding enviornment was quiet, calm and dark, shefelt a great need to get through that door as fast as she could. The door was jammed as she trid to push forward, panic was now taking over her, she had to get throught that door! She applied her full body weight to it and pushed against it and the second she hit it, the door swung open.

1.a

2005-08-31T18:38:00.000-07:00

“Whoa! This is really amazing, are you guys seeing this?”
However, there was no sound in her ears except that of static.
“Kelly… Kelly… Are you there?” No reply.
“There’s something wrong here sir, the second she stepped in through that door we lost all contact with her. To top it all off she closed the door behind her. She’s putting herself in a lot of danger.”
“Don’t think so much, the building must have a radio jamming device, it has been here since before the war. Also, the only reason she closed the door is to get a good shot of the place in the dark, and then light it up and make it look spectacular, it is called showmanship. As for the danger if the stories about this place are anything to go by, then we might just have lost ourselves a great reporter, if not, well then there’s nothing to worry about.”
“If that was supposed to be any kind of consolation sir, then it wasn’t good.”
Back inside the mansion, Kelly Somers was walking around with only torchlight to guide her. She held her camcorder in her right hand and her walkie-talkie in the other. She was sweating profusely, and could not do anything but wipe her face on her sleeve. She was too scared to keep anything on the ground except her next step, which she only did after scouring the piece of floor in front of her for anything suspicious.
Ordinarily she would not have been this scared; she did not believe paranormal or supernatural things, but the descriptions her family and friends had given her in an attempt to scare her away from going in to the house seemed to have chilled her to the bone. She kept murmuring things like “If you’re hidden stay there”, or “I am never going to listen to your stupid stories ever again Bill.”
She noticed something about her torch, its brightness was a little less than when she had started out, which was about fifteen minutes ago. If its batteries ran out now she would be stranded in the dark, so, remembering the plan, she started looking for a light switch. The moments of utter fear inside the great hall, in which she was currently standing, had made her forget about switching her camera on to record the beauty of the mansion in the dark. She manoeuvred the circle of light from the floor to the walls in hopes of finding something to light the place up. As she moved the light, she noticed that the wall on her right was laden with golden tapestry, which reflected the torchlight faintly to give an idea to the watcher of just how big the main hall was. The light faintly illuminated two staircases starting from opposite walls that curved towards each other as they went up and met at the top opening to large passage way. The passageway held a large array of doors, nearly fifteen, they were very lavishly decorated, and held intricate works of carving which on some was depicting the ancestors of the family performing great deeds, like killing dragons, or holding two men on either shoulder wearing heavy metal armour. Some of the doors had long scripts on them, written in a language that certainly was not English, but Kelly could see none of the doors, the light from her torch was fading and she was too desperate to find a more permanent source of light, to admire the beauty of the mansion she had entered. She moved the torchlight onto the wall opposite to the one filled with the tapestries, this wall after seemed barren, only wallpaper could be seen on it and a few a hooks with ropes tied around them, following these ropes led her to the ceiling, there she saw a beautiful chandelier. She took hold of the rope and slowly brought the chandelier to eye level, she noticed it was lit by candles; this was a problem because she did not have anything with her to light the candles
She started looking around, but as the torch was almost out, she could hardly see anything. She tried feeling her way around, the walls felt smooth and strangely warm compared to the air in the room. She kept moving along the wall, as she moved, her foot hit a step, and she stood there silently wondering what to do next. Her breathing slowly started to quicken, and become louder. Fear was now completely taking hold of her, she was rooted to her spot, not doing anything but sweating and watching the staircase. This whole time she had dismissed the legend she had heard as a myth, but now she seemed to be realizing that the legend was enacting itself as she stood there. When the front door closed without so much as a touch from her, she told herself that it was caused by the wind, but the legend said any who entered the house would be held inside it, with or without their consent, by the house itself. It was thought to have a mind of its own; it sustained itself on the flesh, blood and the fear of any creature that entered, be it human or animal.
It was said to have been built by an eccentric, old man who supposedly had connections with the most terrifying devils hell could sustain. This, though an exaggeration was not entirely wrong. He was eccentric and old, and on his journeys to different parts of the earth, he had managed to befriend a most terrible group of people. They had taught him things, nobody knew ever existed. He became a master in the arts of torture and administering pain...

To be continued...