The Wall Clock

By Subhadeep Santra

This is a lonely suburban area. Not that the area was less populated but not many a man leave their homes after sun set. The roads do not have enough street lights. Arjun was on the streets searching for a new friend yet again. Finding friends in a lonely dark street would be difficult had it not been for the local bar. The bar is more than a mid-sized hut. Though the exterior of the hut was wrapped in darkness the interior was dangling with light emitting from the bulbs installed on four corners of the hut. 

As Arjun entered the bar the sound of cricket that embellished the dark outside, got drowned in the clinking of glasses. The bar had only five visitors. One of them was seated alone in a corner with only a spoonful of alcohol left in his glass. He gulped it briskly and put the glass down with a bang on the table. He then stared at an old woman who sat at the corner with a table full of alcohol. He yelled but with a slow drunken voice “Hey you woman, get me one more glass.” 

The woman yelled back in a shrill voice “No more free alcohol you moron.”

Arjun walked towards the lonely drunkard and sat down in a chair facing him and approached, “So friend, are you going to drink alone? What about sharing some of it with this new friend?” “Buzz off” was his instant reply. He was about to abuse but changed his mind. Maybe some people become gentlemanly after drinking. He asked, “I do not know you. Why the hell should I make friends with you?”

 “Let me give you the reason” Arjun smiled. He then turned to the old lady bartender and requested, “Give my friend three glasses of wine but do not charge him. Add it to my account.” The drunkard stared at him in awe.

After a while three glasses of wine was presented at the table. The drunkard suddenly spread his arms in utter joy and blurted out “YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND. MY BEST FRIEND.” Then they enjoyed a good drink. The drunkard gulped two glasses of wine but offered the third to Arjun. It is reinforced that some people become gentleman after drinking. 

They had a good time discussing politics and cricket and what not. It was now time to leave the bar. The bartender had also urged them twice, “Time to close the bar. Hurry up.”

Arjun and his new friend left the bar together. They were now walking down the streets. The drunkard could not walk properly with his trembling knees. Arjun suggested, “You are unable to walk properly. Are you sure you can go home safely?”

The drunkard scratched his head and after a prolonged thoughtful pause he embraced Arjun and cried “You are a true friend. Not even my wife care for me so much. You are right. How will I reach home?” Releasing him from the embrace he proposed, “Why do not you come with me? Spend the night in my cottage and leave for your home the next day.”

The drunkard was about to hug Arjun again but held back his emotions seeing Arjun dodge his way out. “Follow me” instructed Arjun while walking past him raising the pace. He followed like an obedient student. It took them an hour to reach the destination. Had it not been for the fumbling legs of the drunkard they would have made it half an hour ago. Opening the main door and walking through a small passage they entered the drawing room. 

The drunkard literally threw himself on one of the wooden chair placed adjacent to the dining table. Arjun sat in a chair facing him. “Are you comfortable?” He asked displaying hospitality. The drunkard did not answer. He was busy scanning the room with his gaze. His eyelids kept hovering here and there until when his eyes met the wall clock. The wall clock hanging on the wall behind Arjun had a golden greyish frame embedded with intricate carvings of flower petals. But that is not what caught his attention. The hands of the clock were crafted like the shape of a meandering snake. A bulge towards the tip denoted the head of the snake. The tip resembled the tongue of a snake. The drunkard rose up and walked to the wall with his legs still shaking. He observed the clock minutely. “From where did you get this unique clock?” he asked while managing his way back to the chair. 

Arjun announced, “That clock is my biggest nightmare, Dear friend.” The drunkard was highly surprised. “I do not understand. Please elaborate.” Arjun took a deep breath and began to narrate:

[It all began on a Sunday. I was busy being a couch potato. My wife Sukriti was in the kitchen. My eight year old daughter Atriya was whiling away her time talking to her friends over the phone. Suddenly my wife came marching from the kitchen and yelled at me, “Do you even know that the wall clock is not functioning?” I kept gawking at her for a minute and retorted “The battery may have gone out of charge. What is the big deal?” She now calmed his voice but maintained the pinch “The set of battery inserted inside are brand new ones. The clock has malfunctioned. I need a new one by the next week.” She walked away to the kitchen after delivering the commandment. On her way she murmured “How can somebody be so indifferent!”

Sukriti kept nagging about the clock throughout the week. On Saturday evening I decided to put an end to her constant bickering. I made my way to the market place. On the way my glanced fixed on a wall clock that stood outside an antique shop for display. I realized that I cannot afford an antique item but I was tempted by the intricate design of the hands of the clock. Snake shaped hands for a clock was unique indeed. I walked inside the shop to find a middle aged man welcoming me with a grin. After hesitating for a couple of seconds I asked, “How much does the clock cost? The one with the golden frame displayed outside.”

The shopkeeper smiled.”Do you want to have it?” I nodded vehemently “Yes! I like that clock. I wish I could have it.” He replied beaming with joy “You can take it for free as a gift from me.” I was stupefied. On inquiring he said that he got that from a friend as a gift. Now that his friend is no more he was happy to get rid of his memory. I believed him. Rather my temptation led me to believe him. I returned home with the wall clock. Sukriti was very happy to see the clock. I did not say it was free. She was very pleased to see that her husband did not hesitate to spend handsome amount to fulfill her wishes.

The clock had a subtle power of attraction. Many times I found Sukriti glaring at the clock in awe. Then suddenly one day I observed that the clock got slow. It was 2 O’clock in the afternoon and it showed 15 minutes to 2.  Strangely enough, at 1415 hours the clock showed 30 minutes to 2. I was bewildered and amused. The lock was not slow. It was moving backwards!

After cursing my luck for having got home a mechanical blunder I sat down turning the pages of a magazine. After half an hour the irritating neighbourhood lad Kishen dropped in. This lad finds out new ways to irritate me. That day he brought a kitten home. It was raining outside. Both the cat and his caretaker were drenched. He dropped his wet body on the sofa spoiling the cushion without a hesitation. “My Kitty got wet. She needs some protection. Can we stay until the rain stops?” He insisted. He had timed the request when Sukriti was around. I hate cats but Sukriti loves them. I only nodded with a plastic smile. 

It was 1:15 PM in the wall clock when the downpour got drizzled out. By 12:45 it stopped dripping at all. Kishen rose to the occasion with great reluctance and proceeded to the front door. I was relieved. 

Suddenly I felt the urge to observe the strange clock. The clock is now ticking at 12:01 minutes. The two snake-like hands soon embraced each other making a screeching sound. It resembled the sound of the tyre of a car that came to a halt suddenly. The sound was followed by loud hustle bustle. The sound seems to emanate from veranda. I ran to the veranda and so did Sukriti and Atriya. I peeped from the ledge and saw a young boy drenched in blood. He lay with his face turned towards the sky. His left hand was crushed and string of blood was oozing somewhere from behind his head. Kishen was dead. 

Sukriti had nearly fainted when she saw it. It is good that Atriya was not grown up enough to have peeped above the ledge. I could not sleep for a week. Kishen was not such a great boy but he did not deserve to die. But the curse of oblivion got better of us and we got involved in our daily chores quite soon. 

The wall clock too was now marching ahead. I had already adjusted the hands of the clock in accordance with the actual time. However after a month or so, I glanced upon the clock and observed it was sliding backwards. It depicted 3:15 PM while it was dark outside. I did not adjust the hands of the clock and kept staring at the clock. There was a certain attraction in it that captivates you. You cannot just stop glaring at it. When the hands of the clock stood at five minutes past twelve I suddenly recalled the unfortunate death of Kishen. An illogical and eerie apprehension grasped my senses. What if the hands conjoint to strike a disaster? I gazed at the clock with intent until the snakes conjoined making a strange hissing sound. When the sound grew prominent by the next minute I realized that it was the sound of whispers coming from the adjacent road. I ran to the veranda. It was like a déjà vu. A car had run over someone. The victim was a cat. Although smeared in blood the black patches near the neck was clearly visible. Is it not the same cat that Kishen had brought home that day? Yes of course! How is it even possible? How can there be such an ugly coincidence?   

I turned restless. I would keep staring at the clock whenever I am at home. Sukriti would once in a while pass censuring remarks, “Give me a divorce and marry the clock instead.” I introspected and realized that I was diverting my attention to trivial matters and tried hard not to look at the clock. But the clock had a strange hypnotic aura that pulls your attention. I could not help but stare now and then. 

 Then one day it happened again. The clock was ticking backwards. I was on my toe. I was waiting for the snakes to meet with palpitating breath. It met but to no consequence. No accidents! No death! I jumped in joy. It was just the manifestation of my imagination. At least that is what I thought until I received a phone call the next day.

 I am not an early riser. I was woken up early that day by the sound of the telephone. I heard a nervous and remorseful voice on the telephone. It was Prateek my childhood friend. “I do not how to break it but I must tell you something.” He had said. “What happened? You are scaring me.” I shouted. He replied with trembling voice, “Sameer is no more. He died yesterday evening in a car accident” I could not speak for a moment. Sameer was a dear friend. I noted the address of the hospital to which he was admitted and rushed to pay him my last visit. 

I got depressed. The earlier period of my depression was marked by sorrow for the loss of a friend. But gradually my sorrow was overpowered by an apprehension. Sameer died on the evening when the clock travelled backwards. There was no way to verify whether he died exactly at the juncture when the snakes have met. But verifications were no more needed. When coincidences submerge all logic we do not need prove to believe the obvious. The wall clock is a harbinger of death. I could now hear those demonic blood hungry snakes hissing at me. Sukriti and Atriya could hear nothing. But I can. The snakes would whisper among them now and then. 

Sukriti was unaware of the devil that resides in the clock. Her observation power is pathetic. I decided to get rid of the clock but could not dare reveal to my family the deep secret that I hold within. Atriya may be scared to hell if she realizes that there is a demon living with us. I waited for an opportunity. 

One day when Sukriti was set to leave for a party organized by her friend I insisted that Atriya should join her. I had propounded that “Atriya should meet more and more people in her growing years and develop social interactive skills” Though she looked utterly confused at this proposal she agreed. I knew that she will not invite me since it was an all women party. I had anticipated that I would break the clock in their absence. Then I would apologize to Sukriti saying that I had held the clock in my hand to observe the engravings and it slipped.

It was a perfect plan. I removed the clock from the wall as soon as they left. I banged it on the floor with all my might. It fell with a thudding sound with the glass screen facing downward. I turned the clock and to my horror there was not a scintilla of scratch in the screen. The snakes kept swirling and hissing at me. I picked it up and threw it again with a greater might. No scratches. I was getting desperate. I looked around frantically to find a hard object. I recalled there was a long iron stick lying in the store room. I got the stick in a jiffy. I hit the glass hard.  There was not a scintilla of scratch on the clock. I hit again and yet no scratch. I hit again. No Scratch.

 I dropped the stick. My heart was racing fast. The room seems to be swinging like a pendulum and I was unable to balance my weight on my knees. I sat down. The snakes bombarded my ears with satanic chuckles. I wanted to exterminate their fangs but could not. I blocked my ears with my palm. I sat there numb for a minute. Then suddenly I realized that I could burn down the clock. There was a bottle of kerosene in the store room. I carried the clock and a match box to the store room. I knew that it will be difficult to explain to Sukriti how the clock disappeared but it was a secondary consideration at the moment. 

I laid the clock on the floor of the store room with the snakes facing upward. I sprinkled kerosene on the clock and lit a match stick. I tossed the flaming match stick on the clock. It landed on the clock and flickered a little and extinguished with no scar on the clock. I lit another match stick and threw it at the clock. The flame shivered at the presence of the snake and turned to smoke. I smelled the liquid smeared on the clock to confirm it was kerosene. It was indeed kerosene but it denied combustion. I fired yet another match stick. This one extinguished in mid air and landed on the head of the bigger snake and rested there like a crown. The snake declared themselves as victorious. I threw the match box on the floor. Small droplets of salted sweat now touched my lips. I picked up the clock and returned to the drawing room. I placed it on the wall again. 

My hands were trembling uncontrollably. When I filled a glass with water from a jar kept on the dining table I spilled water all over. When I tried to drink from a glass of water it refused to pass through my buccal cavity. I sat on the sofa calm and quiet. I tried to close my eyes but I could hear the hisses more prominently in the dark. I tried to look away from the snakes but my eyes defied my brain. I sat gazing at the snakes for hours until Sukriti and Atriya arrived. I was relieved to see them as I never felt so lonely before. But I needed permanent relief from those poisonous demons. I made up my mind to visit the shopkeeper who gave away the clock in free. Now I understand why. He got rid of the clock and made a buffoon of me. I took leave from office and went to meet the shopkeeper on the next day. 

I did not waste any time in introduction and caught him by the collar right away. He seemed not surprised. “Why did you give me that killer clock? Why?” I growled.

He asked casually “Killer clock?” I was annoyed. I grumbled in anger, “The clock that you gave to me is killing people around me. The clock ticks backward and when the two snakes meet there is death.” I cling to his collar even more with my tightened fist. “You knew that the clock brings death! Or else you would not have given up the clock for free. Speak up or I shall beat the hell out of you”

He requested “Leave my collar and I shall tell you all I know” I complied.

He took a deep breath and spoke:

“A stranger sold that clock to me. He gave that at a price of a peanut and I was too overjoyed to maintain any record of the person. He wore a big hat that shadowed his entire face. A few days later I saw that the clock was heading backwards. Then at the strike of twelve the helper died. He suffered a cardiac arrest. He was a young boy with no medical history of heart disease. I engaged another helper. Again one day I saw the clock behaving oddly. This helper too died at the strike of twelve in a car accident. 

I understood that this clock belongs to devil and I called a tantric. The tantric took the clock with him for a week. On his return he had said that he performed a ritual on it amidst the presence of ghosts and witches in a deep forest at the middle of the night. He was able to decipher the secret of the clock. What he said is little far-fetched to believe.”

He looked at me with doubtful glance. “No worries. I shall not hurt you” I assured him “I need to know the truth however incredible it may be”

On my approval he spoke again: 

“Long before the Portuguese arrived in India the Marakkar merchants from Kerala and the Bania merchants from Gujarat dominated the pepper and textile trade respectively. They sold these famed products to Yemeni merchants, who in turn sold those goods to Egyptian merchants. The Egyptians traded with Venice who in turn distributed the products to the rest of Europe. The European inhabitants bought the goods at a very high price. When Vasco Da Gama discovered the route to India, the status quo got disturbed. 

The Egyptian declared war against the Portuguese. A fierce naval battle was fought in 1508. We call it the Battle of Chaul. Lourenco de Almeida the only son of the then Viceroy of India Dom Francisco de Almeida was killed in the battle. Thereafter a battle for trade became a saga of Vendetta. 

Dom Francisco received information from his secret agents that some of his enemies were hiding in Dabhol Port of Konkan. He then slaughtered innocent inhabitants of Konkan and smeared the roads with blood. 

But Revenge is like a forest fire that spread from one tree to another in no time. The spirit of Vendetta now cropped up in an old man whose young son was butchered in the massacre. Two years later he reached Fort Anjediva located off the coast of Karnataka. Dom Francisco was reported to be residing at the fort for the time being. 

The old man accomplished an incredible feat. He was able to dodge the guards of the fort and reach the private room of Dom Francisco. There he was captured by the bodyguards of the viceroy. 

He was stabbed in the heart many times driving him to a painful death. But before he died he cursed Dom Francisco. He prophesized:  ‘You killed my son and I had to see his corpse with my cursed eyes. You shall witness the death of your friends, family and all relatives no matter how insignificant the relation might be.’ But the curse though hurled at Dom Francisco affected the clock that hung on the wall.  

When the man was killed his blood oozed out from his heart like a fountain and was sprinkled on the wall clock. The blood could have transmitted the curse to the clock. Moreover Dom Francisco had not killed his son. He had ordered the massacre and his soldiers killed most of the inhabitants. The son of the old man was killed by a soldier and incidentally the wall clock belonged to that soldier and not to Dom Francisco. 

He brought the clock from Portugal. When Dom Francisco saw the clock was curious. He had not seen such a sophisticated clock anytime before. He commanded that the clock be hanged in his room. 

It is impossible to fathom whether the curse was first transmitted to the clock or it initially attacked the owner of the clock and then got transmitted to the clock riding the blood. None the less, the curse did work. His family and his relatives died. But he lived on. Incidentally Dom Francisco who was a distant relative of the soldier also died the same year in the Cape of Good Hope, South Africa.”

I questioned him with ridicule in my voice “How can this clock be so old? This clock runs on pencil battery. There was no pencil battery during the 16th century.”

He wore a fake smile and retorted “I had asked the same question to the tantric.  He said that this clock is not the same clock.” I asked annoyingly “Then?”

“It is the dial.” He answered. “The body of that ancient clock withered away with time but the snake dials stood the test of time. It is the dial which is cursed. It sustained its existence with every new feat of engineering added to it.”

“Did the tantric quote a solution?” I asked. “None” he said with a sorry face. “The curse is too strong for any ordinary tantric to break. The clock cannot be destroyed. It is useless to abandon it because that does not free you from the ownership of the clock. The owner of the clock must see others die. You cannot give away the clock forcefully. You are free from the clutches of the clock only when somebody happily accepts the clock.”

“That is why you offered the clock in free! You scoundrel” I raised my fist to hit him. He yelled “You promised not to hit me.” I loosened my fist to keep my word. 

I spent the next few days in utter disbelief. The story of the clock was ridiculously incredible. But I could not deny the demonic existence of the fey clock. I may deny the past but not the present. Logic is a strange thing. It is a feasible consideration when a man has choice. But when there are no alternatives men cling to the solely available choice no matter how ridiculous and trifling it may be. I was enslaved by a similar circumstance. The safety of my family was hanging on a thread.  I cannot take any external advice as nobody would believe me. I spent restless nights fidgeting for solution. 

 Then suddenly a realization dawned on me. I must eliminate the root of the problem. I tried to destroy the clock in vain. May be the clock was not the root of the problem. The curse is on the owner and the clock is just a transmitter of the curse. What if the clock had no owner? If the owner dies without selling or gifting the clock then the curse will find on course of transmission. I must die to keep my friends and family alive. Atriya is just a kid. I cannot see her die. Rather I should die and choke the satanic chuckles of the snakes. 

I have heard that poison burns the internal organs and intestines. I do not wish to die such a horrible and painful death. I have the fear of heights. I cannot just jump from the terrace. Moreover, it should look like an accident. It must not look like a suicide. There are high chances that Sukriti will spoil her mental peace trying to understand why I committed suicide. That is a huge burden to carry the whole life. It must not look like a murder either. The police will bother my family for years. How will the little girl handle the undue police harassment? Sukriti is the only other adult member in my nuclear family. She will become a prime suspect. Today is an era of media trials. The social media will declare Sukriti a murderer even before the police files a charge sheet. Children today blindly believe the social media. Atriya’s school friends will tease her and call her the daughter of a murderer. 

My death should appear like an accident.  I have heard that when somebody is run over by a speeding train he dies before he realizes pain. Moreover train accidents are common nowadays. It will be treated as an unfortunate incident. No question of murder and suicide will arise. 

Every day I board a local train at sharp 9:20 am from a railway station half a mile away from my home. The station is not a busy one with only a handful of people during that time of the day. A superfast express rushes through platform no.2 at 9:10 am clearing the path for the local train. The suburban station has no CCTV camera at platform no.2. There was one a week ago. It got damaged and thanks to red tapism the sanction for a new camera is not forthcoming any early. 

That day I woke up early. I cannot afford to miss the superfast express. I particularly remembered to tug my ID card into my money bag. I wore an old red shirt I rarely wear so that Sukriti notices me and remembers what I wore that day. I picked up an altercation with her the day before and checked the cupboard to see if the insurance papers were intact under the pretext that she does not keep the cupboard clean. 

It was the D-day. I stood near the edge of the platform. It is 9:05 am. Nobody is watching me. Should I jump now? I contemplated. No! The people around me may come for rescue. I shall wait till the express train arrives at a visible distance. I must jump right in time. An announcement was heard “Attention Passengers. A through train shall pass from platform no. 2. Please maintain safe distance from the edge of the platform.”

The female announcer was repeating the same again and again. Why is she repeating the same thing so many times? Does she generally repeat announcements so many times? I felt as if the announcer was urging me alone to ‘maintain safe distance’. My heart beat grew a little louder by every announcement she made. An inner force pulled me a step backward as soon as I heard a train whistling from a distance. I regained my courage and stepped forward again. I can hear the faint rumblings of the railway tracts. I assumed that the train was nearer than my ear can fathom since the sound of the rumblings got subdued by my louder heartbeat. Should I jump now? Should I jump at all? How will Atriya live without me? I realized in the very next moment that I must die for her to live. The rumbling grew louder. I see a glaze of light shinning from a distance. I must jump now. My knees grew stiff. For the first time I realized the weight of my ankle. JUMP! For the sake of Atriya. JUMP! 

I leaped on the track. I saw the train closing in. I saw few passengers yelling at me. I cannot hear them but could read their gestures. I lost the sense of distance. A sharp ray of light blinded me. I can only see a black demon running towards me and announcing its arrival with a loud rumbling noise. The demon is very near. I lost my balance. I fell on the ground. I felt a huge shadow of a demon on my body. My head grew heavy and my eyes flickered into darkness.

I woke up in a hospital bed. Though I had already regained my consciousness but it took a minute to regain my memory. I was alive! A broad grin occupied my face. The next moment I felt guilty to be happy. But the most prominent feeling that has engulfed my senses was inquisitiveness. How am I alive? I got the answer from Sukriti during the visiting hours. I had fainted on the railway tracts. The train had suffered an engine failure and halted an inch away from my body. 

Engine failure! How can somebody be so unlucky? Can’t I choose my own death? I was discharged the very next day. 

After a couple of days I read in the newspaper that the railway authorities had suspended their engineer for the engine failure. Poor engineer! The railway authorities do not know the truth. I know the truth. The engineer is not at fault. It is the clock that will not allow the owner to die. The owner is not destined to die but to be bereaved. I was back to square one. I started fidgeting for solutions again.]

Arjun paused. He drank a glass of water and was about to continue when his new drunkard friend interrupted “Time please Bro, Where is your washroom? Nature is calling.” “It is on the narrow passageway towards the main gate. Open the door on your right.” Arjun answered along with a hand gesture directing him to the right path. The drunkard wobbled towards the passage and opened the door to his left and immediately held his nose “Your bathroom smells like a rotten rat. And who are these damn people who are sleeping in a bathroom” Arjun corrected him “You have opened the wrong door. Go to your right.” The drunkard complied.  

After some times he returned to the chair and asked “What did you do next?” Arjun continued:

 [ I knew that I cannot save all my relatives, friends and neighbours. I must save the ones I hold most dear. I decided to break the link of relationship itself to save them. I called my best friend Prateek and informed him that I do not wish to be his friend anymore. On being questioned I gave a lame excuse. I said that my astrologer had advised me to stay away from people whose name start with a ‘P’. Having heard such a silly excuse he initially burst out laughing. Then he broke the friendship himself saying that he was ashamed to keep a superstitious friend like me. 

I told Sukriti that I had an affair and I wish to live with this new love of mine. I told her that the train incident was not an accident but I tried to commit suicide. She got the shock of her life. I did not look into her eyes when I told her so. I can say she wept because I heard her choke when she abused me. After a week of deliberations we filed for a divorce. She decided to leave my house and shift to her mother’s house. She took Atriya with her. When Atriya was leaving the house she had looked at me with remorseful expectation. It felt like somebody has poured a hundred boiling coals into my heart. 

 I sold that house to pay for the alimony. I shifted to this secluded place because the rent of this house is quite low. I resigned from my job. I have handsome savings to last until I get a new job in this locality. ]

The drunkard interrupted “Hey. I have a question. Why did the cat die? It is not your relative.” Arjun answered “The curse does not work according to the social standards of the humans. The clock saw me giving shelter to the kitten. It assumed a relationship between us. The clock watches his master always.”

 The drunkard spoke again. “I have another question.” On receiving a nod from Arjun he inquired, “You can break your friendship. You can take a divorce. But you cannot detach yourselves from your daughter. What about HER safety?”

Arjun smiled “You are the first drunkard to ask the right question. I am impressed.” Arjun pointed at the clock on the wall and asked “Do you see anything peculiar in the clock?” The drunkard glared at the clock with deep intensity. Rubbing his eyes twice he said “I see the hands of the clock moving anti clockwise. Am I too high on alcohol?” he whispered to himself. 

The clock was now depicting 3 minutes past 12.  It was 3 minutes more for the snakes to meet again. Arjun spoke again “You are right. I can stay away from Atriya but she still remains my daughter. I must keep her safe. I must keep the clock satisfied so that it spares my daughter. The clock wants to feed on my family, relatives and friends.”

Arjun rose up from his chair and stood in front of his new friend. He glanced at the clock again. 1 minute to go. He pulled a blade from beneath the dining table mat with his right hand. He glanced at the clock again. The smaller of the two snakes had now hid itself behind the bigger one. “There is a reason why I make a new friend each time I see the clock ticking backwards.” He paused for a moment and took a deep breath and said “The men you saw in that room were not asleep.” 

The drunkard seemed surprised at this out-of-context piece of information. Arjun now looked straight into the eyes of his new friend said something seemingly out of context again “I AM SORRY.” The drunkard looked at Arjun in awe. Before he could fathom anything a blade just slit through his throat. He fell on the ground with blood splashing all over the place. 

Arjun dragged the body to the room on the left of the passageway towards the main door. After having laid the corpse inside the room he commented to himself “The drunkard was correct. This room really stinks. I must get a phenyl from the super market tomorrow.”

By Subhadeep Santra