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Fiction Thriller

all the eyes on the clock at the right south corner of the office. tick, tick, tick. all the bags were already packed. the last tick of second and the crowd filled up the aisle. all the chairs were misplaced and the bags were picked up. Quentin picked up his bag and walked to the exit door. his eyes on his newly polished shoes to cancel any eye contact with anyone. his subtle route of talking embarrassed him. With the crowd's push, Quentin was out of the office. Randall followed him out.

‘hey, Q, wait for me, just a sec.’ Randall called out. ‘you forgot to give your address. how will I reach there for the party?’

‘sorry for that. note it down. twelve, star colony, down the street.’

‘Okay, thank you. want me to bring a bottle of wine?’

‘no, it's cool. many people will, so, it will be just a cluster. keep it together.’

‘meet you there.

‘yeah, we need to leave soon. it is already nine, the traffic will kill us.’

‘that is truly a problem’.

Quentin walks down to his parked car and twitched open his car. his phone in the back pocket of the trouser rings.

‘hey, what’s up. no, please no, don’t joke it up. okay, what do you need then? okay, note it down. twelve, star colony, down the street. okay, bye.’

he starts the car and reaches the last traffic signal to his house. after stopping there for half a minute, he reaches his house. it was already nine-thirty-six.

he unlocks the door, walks inside, and turns on the lights. he keeps his bag on the couch and his shoes on the shoe rack. he checks his fridge for some food. the only things inside were three bananas, which turned a slight brown. he undresses the banana and eats it sitting on the couch, watching television. he changed his clothes and falls on the bed. he dims the light and checks his messages. there were no notifications on his phone. he keeps it on the side table and closes his eyes.

it was fifteen past three in the morning. no sight of the sun through the gaps between curtains. the only sound ringing in the night sky was the chirping of crickets. after some moments, the sound of Quentin’s phone mixed with the crickets. Quentin leans with his eyes half-closed. he checks that the name but it seemed only a number. he picks up the call.

‘Hello, who’s that?’ there was complete silence at the other end of the call.

‘hello?’ no reply from the unknown number.

Quentin cuts the call and puts it back. the equilibrium of the night symphony was disturbed with the ringing of the phone. he attends the call. it was the same number.

‘hello!’ this time his tone of recalling changed to anger. ‘what do you want?’ there was no reply. Quentin’s eyes couldn’t open properly. he closes them and the call ended.

it wasn’t too long since the phone rang again. Quentin didn’t open his eyes to attend it.

‘stupid people, pranking after being drunk.’

the phone rings again. this time, Quentin picks it.

‘hey, you witty duck, I will file a police complaint, if you call me again on this number. his eyes were wide open. he sits with a pillow behind his back. he takes back his phone and opens the app that states the address and name of the person calling. it took some seconds for the application to process the number. it showed the name, ‘Rahul Gandhi’, and the address was somewhere in Bihar, Uttarpradesh. Quentin tapped on the image to zoom in and see it clearly. before the image could be seen clearly, the number again calls. he cuts the call. the app showed again.

a drop of sweat fell from his head to his hand. he waves it on his trouser. the address of the caller wavered to, ‘twelve, star colony, down the street’. he shuts the application and opens it again. the address was unchanged. the fan was swinging at its maximum, still, he was perspiring. he walks down his bed and looks around for someone. he walks to the hall and opens the curtains. he looks out, searching for someone. a cat jumps on the window, scratching it.

Quentin falls back on the floor. he feels someone walking past him from behind. he runs to the switchboard and turns on the lights. he looks behind. the only thing there was the chair he left out from the dining table. he walks to that chair and puts it in the order of the dining table. he hears the meowing of the cat and scratching of its paws. he turns back to the cat. the window was closed. the cat was inside his house. the window’s latch was still closed. he walks to the cat. it was licking its back. he tries to touch its black fur, as he touched the fur, the car disappears. he looks around, the cat was nowhere to be seen. he hears the scratching of the window. the cat was outside the out. Quentin closed the curtains as soon as he could.

‘this is a dream. it is a dream.’ he speaks with his eyes closed.

he opens them and he was still standing there in the middle of his hall.

‘no, no, no, go away.’ he repeated with his closed eyes. the sound of the cat scratching on his window stopped. he gasps and opens his eyes.

as soon as he opens them, he falls to the ground. a person was standing in front of him. Quentin slithered across the room. he tried to stand but couldn’t help himself up.

the person in front of him was wearing a long cape with a hoodie covering his face. Quentin wasn’t sure if it was a man or a woman. he wished to ask, but he lost control over his mouth. the person walked to Quentin and sat next to him. Quentin tried to hit the person with the sandal, but it passed as if the person was created of air.

‘nothing will work on me. you cannot kill me, you cannot know me. I know you want to speak and walk but won’t be able to do it until I let you.’

Quentin couldn’t estimate whether it was a man or woman even by its voice. he closed his eyes and denied opening them. even with his eyes closed, he could see the man.

‘you cannot deny my existence, I am inside you. you close your eyes, I see you through your mind.’

Quentin felt his saliva. ‘who are you?

‘if you like to say, I am a bounty hunter assigned for your life. just for your life.’

‘i will pay you more than the person is paying you for my death.’

‘i cannot deny my job. I am the person paying myself. I am your death and will leave with you.’

‘why do you want to kill me?

‘because it is your time to die. I have not set it, someone else has and that person is what you call god.’

‘then why don’t you kill me? just kill me and take me with you.’

‘i am death and if people aren’t scared of me, that might ruin my name. I will take you as soon as you realize why you have such a short life.’

‘why?’

‘you have to guess that. I won’t do everything. think of all your sins and add them up. we are on borrowed time, do it quick.’

‘i don’t remember doing anything to anyone. I haven’t done anything bad in my whole life, nevertheless, I have helped many people through life by giving them money and some, education.’

‘that is the reason you weren’t dead at the age of seventeen. you missed a close death. just because of that.’

‘i don’t know, you tell me.’

‘okay. um, you are dying because of all your lies. beginning from your childhood. the lies you said for not going to school. the lie after you ate the chocolate in the fridge. the lies for not giving your homework, for lying to your best friend about your girlfriend. lying to your mother about the eraser you stole from your friend. lies in your college about your life, pretending to be having money while you had nothing. the fake dramas about your grandfather’s death. lies to your boss and your colleagues, lies you tell yourself when you are sad. the fantasy cloud you made and then broke yourself with one lie. all the lies you prepared to say somewhere but those situations never occurred so you never said those, but you had them.’

‘i am dying just because I lie?’

‘you are dying because you were scared of all the situations to speak the truth. you were a pussy per SE. you didn’t know how to handle a situation and always wanted to run from it. oh, we are late. do you want to say anything like your last words?’

‘i don’t want to die.’

‘see, you are still scared. you humans will never change’.

the person passes its hand through Quentin’s body. Quentin felt no pain. he saw his soul in front of him. the soul enters the person’s body and vanishes.

‘am I dead?’ Quentin asks without any expression.

‘follow me, you will know.’

July 22, 2021 10:55

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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