The Crimson Stain

By Nidhi W. Pednekar

I glance out of the window. Pitch black, is it dark already? I glimpse at my phone, only 6.01 p.m. Just then, the streetlights flicker on. Relief washes over me. I could never sleep without any light from the streetlight pouring into my room. It’s strange, I never used to be like this as child…. What changed? I shake my head, focussing on the past always made me frustrated. Then, I hear it, an unmistakable thud, followed by a ringing, in my head. A thousand images flash by, my mind focusing on nothing and everything all at once. When I open my eyes, I’m left with only one image, a door and someone knocking, I see my shivering hands reach for it and the vision- no, the memory ends there. Had I passed out? Its 6.42 p.m. now. I look outside the window in an attempt to calm myself. A horrified, rasping scream escapes my lips. There’s a strange wet patch outside my neighbour’s gate and the part illuminated by the streetlight, looks red… like blood! That’s when my eyes meet hers, my elderly neighbour, the one who had been the sweetest to me ever since I moved in two days ago. 

  Mrs. Alvares had been the first to greet me when I moved into my new apartment. The streetlight flickered on and off, but she had gotten it fixed "just for me," thus I was greatly thankful to her. However, I had never anticipated that she would look at me as frostily as she is now. The glare sends a chill down my spine, but it’s gone in the blink of an eye and replaced by her smiling face, making me question whether I had seen right. I shake my head and turn around. I had just started my new job and I already had a deadline for submitting my first project, I can’t afford to lose focus. 

I work until it’s about 10 p.m. “AH! I skipped dinner!! Whatever, I’ll just buy instant noodles from the mart,” I mutter as I grab my jacket and rush out the door. I make my way to the mart, buy the cheapest noodles, and walk to the building. A dragging noise. “That’s strange, no one’s awake this late-” I whisper but I’m struck with a bolt out of the blue. I quickly hide behind a bush, suddenly fearful for my life. Mrs. Alvares’s son, Matteo, who works in the same place as me, is dragging something peculiarly looking like a human body, wrapped in a blanket from the garage. It’s right near the place where I saw the wet patch. I gasp as I see hair hanging out of the end of the blanket. Just then, I feel a hand on my shoulder, and turn around to see the unfriendly eyes of Mrs. Alvares. 

I swipe it off and rush to my apartment. I make sure to lock the door and close the curtains. Yet, I can’t help but glance outside the window. Matteo, shoves the body into the car and him and Mrs. Alvares chat for a bit glancing at my window repeatedly, leading me to hide every time they do so. Finally, they enter a car and drive off. 

I wake up to bright sunlight shining down on me. A throbbing pain at the back of my head. Then, I remember it all. I rush to the window. The wet patch is no more as if scrubbed clean, even from my memory. Was it all just a dream? How vivid. I notice for the first time the alcohol bottles around my room and…. A NOTE? 

“ 

Hi Jay! I’m leaving this note to tell you that I had to leave early. You had already passed out after drinking by the time I had to leave. See you at work tomorrow!

~ Matteo A. :)

”

Strange, I had never drunk once in all 26 years of my life. How do I have no recollection of this? Did I drink so much that I got some sort of selective memory loss? Or was my dream a reality? An alibi, that’s what I would become. I’m suddenly conscious in my own apartment, of the pain in my head. I run out to clear my head.

I’ve ran around the block twice now and I seem to be remembering tiny details which feel too real to be part of a dream. After I saw the car drive off, the doorbell rang. Cautiously, I made my way to the door but of course my apartment has no peephole. Just as I hesitantly opened the door, my phone rang and then it’s blank. The last thing I remember is a sharp pain in my head. I decide to head back to the apartment. Clues, they could be anywhere. As I head over, my eyes involuntarily land on the Alvares’ abode. Mrs. Alvares is casually watering the plants as if she didn’t drive off with a dead body in her car. She looks my way with the sweetest smile, FAKE smile that is. Just as I turn away Matteo calls out my name. “Jay! You really need to cut back on drinking so much if you want a long life, dude! Mum was worried when I told her. Anyways, you’re heading to work now, aren’t you? I’ll give you a ride.” A sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’m the only witness to their crimes. He definitely could finish me off. But, if I refuse, he’ll definitely know that I remember. A breath to calm by nerves and racing heart. “U-um, yeah, I’ll come with you, let me just… g-get dressed. Oh, I also need to r-run to the m-mart,” I stutter. He eyes me with suspicion but dismisses it quickly. 

Matteo drives very safely for a person who killed someone and is maybe out to kill me too. I have a cutter and pepper spray in my bag just in case. At work, I try to keep my entire focus on working on my project, but I can’t help keeping an eye out in case danger comes knocking at my door. A knock startles me. It’s Matteo. He hands me a coffee, smiles and is soon gone. I know better than to drink that coffee, but suddenly I’m overwhelmed with a ringing noise. I can’t steady my blurry vision. Am I already dead, without drinking the coffee? 

I’m six years old and asleep. A loud knock wakes me up. I’m so sleepy that I open my eyes only momentarily and drift back to sleep. More knocking, louder this time. I exhale shakily. It’s so dark I can’t see a thing. The light is switched on and I see the fear in my mother’s eyes. I look in the direction she’s staring. A man wearing all black clothes, even a black mask, slowly steps our way. The light goes off again. I can’t see a thing. A thud. A dragging sound. Once, it’s over, I hear the door close and try to sleep again. I can’t. My heart won’t stop racing, my ears won’t stop ringing, my eyes won’t stop crying, my mouth won’t stop screaming. A door and someone knocking, I see my shivering hands reach for it. My sister with tear-streaked cheeks, hugs me to her chest, “E-everything’s okay,” she keeps repeating in soft whispers as she rocks me to sleep. 

When I wake up, a dozen of faces stare at me, concern written all over their faces, except one. One face looks disappointed that I had just passed out. I realise only now that my eyes are full of tears. My boss excuses me for the day and I return back home. It looks just how I had left it. Only now do I realise that I had CCTV cameras installed. I hadn’t informed anyone but the landlord about it. The dream- no, the memory was the one which had subconsciously made me paranoid, and that thankfully paid off. I scroll through today’s recording and reach yesterdays. There it is! I can’t see the full view of what Matteo hit me with, but he definitely swung something. I clutch my head and fall to the ground. Further, Matteo carefully plants the alcohol bottles and the note with a gloved hand. I replay the video repeatedly, like I’m insane. I sigh. I need to get out and get some more evidence. If I don’t, I’ll be the next victim. 

The bushy plants scratch at my face, but I have to do this. I get my phone out and press record on the recording app which I had tested out already. I’m hidden well enough, so that no one notices me. I glance at Mrs. Alvares and Matteo in the garage. “Ma, don’t worry, I don’t think that guy remembers anything. He looked fine. He even fainted at work, talk about being weak! He had literal tears in his eyes, Ma. He’s a weakling if he saw us kill her, he definitely would’ve fled from here like a chicken. I even gave him a ride to work,” I hear Matteo say. But his mother doesn’t look too convinced. “Look, I don’t trust the kid. What if he’s a sly fox, lying away to get out of our grip. You can lower your guard, but I won’t,” she says. That’s it, I’m doomed. She won’t let me go scot-free. “I know we shouldn’t have killed her, but she found out. We ran away so that the past was behind us, but we can’t let anyone know about our identities,” she exclaims. With that she heads inside. 

I need more information. Thankfully being a television writer, I’ve read, written, and watched far too many shows and movies to know just what to do. I call Matteo. He picks up on the third ring. His voice is a bit slurred, which works well in my favour because I know that he’s definitely drunk. I invite him to have a couple drinks at a local restaurant and bar. Matteo arrives walking, clearly having drunk a bit. He could be faking it, but I will get out the necessary information out of him. I watch him drink as I drink water. He strangely doesn’t suspect a thing, and just like that I dig up the information, recording it all the while. 

Matteo and Mrs. Alvares used to have a normal life before, as Noah and Daisy. Her husband, Max, was one who cared deeply for them. He owned a business, which fell apart soon after its peak when one of the business partners sold it off to an illegal loan company, to fulfil his loan. Max had to seek a job at that company itself. But the company didn’t just stop there. Anyone who failed to pay back a loan, were forced to do so first by having thugs threaten them and next by blood. Max’s first ‘job’ was at a simple family’s place. He had to threaten them. But when that didn’t work, he had to move on to the next step. He arrived at their place wearing all black, even a black mask. He didn’t have to break the door because the person who owed the debt opened the door on the first knock. Just with one swing the man was dead. He knocked on the bedroom door and opened it. It was too dark to see anything. Then, the lights went on. A boy around Noah’s age sat sleepily on the bed, staring at his mother, who stared at Max fearfully. She put off the light. Soon, she was by his side, and he put the handkerchief with chloroform to her nose. She fell with a thud, and he dragged her out closing the door behind to the screams and sobs of the boy. He had finished the job. He just had to deal with the adults. The kids could remain alive. After hearing all this from Max, Noah and Daisy didn’t know what to do. Max couldn’t handle it and thus, ran way, eventually getting run over by a car. But, doing that he put his wife and child in danger. So, Daisy ran away with Noah legally changing their names and living happily. Until now that is. A girl had appeared at their house who was definitely from the loan company. She knew the truth and was threatening them to pay a ridiculously large sum of money, unless they want their secrets revealed and that’s how the girl ended up dead. 

I’m dumfounded. All my childhood paranoia and forgotten memories, all the trauma, was all because of – of this. I didn’t even remember that memory because my brain had pushed it so far way to prevent the trauma. I’m overcome with anger, but I don’t know what to do. Max is dead. It’s not like its Matteo and Mrs. Alvares’s fault, but the girl needs to be given justice. I drop Matteo home. Then, I hand over the recordings to the police and head home with an uneasy feeling. I’m relieved that the murder was proved, and I am no longer a target, but all the memories and knowing who it did after so many years feels strange. I call my sister, who hid it all from me, carrying all the burdens alone. I let it all out, and by the end we’re both crying as we drift off to sleep still talking on the phone. 

I wake up to a warm yellow light entering my apartment through the windows. It doesn’t look like sunlight. A crackling noise engulfs the noiseless night, sounding very much like fire. I panic and rush to the window. The entire house of the Alvares’s is engulfed in flames. The fire trucks are already present and doing their best to douse the fire. I sprint down and ask a firefighter, “W-what happened here?” He gives me a grim look, “The entire house burnt down. We don’t know the reason yet. I don’t think your neighbours may make it out alive,” he replies. My jaw drops down. The Alvare’s decided to end it in a ‘final blaze of glory,’ going away before the case is even processed. I return to my apartment with a bittersweet feeling. 

It's been two months since the fire. The police didn’t take the murder case further and decided to close it off. I’m enjoying my work and feel a lot safer. My fear for the dark is also decreasing, maybe because of those memories or the information I gained after I remembered the memories. I get back to work after my coffee break, when I’m called out to receive something, a letter. I’m excited because I’ve not received letters for a while. I’m pretty sure it’s my sister. I glance out to see grey clouds, warning a terrible storm. I take the letter to my desk. There’s no name, address, or stamp, like it’s personally delivered. I carefully open it. It’s a familiar handwriting.

  “

You didn’t think you could get away that easily, did you?

~M. A :)

By Nidhi W. Pednekar