Sunday, 22 June 2014

The last day...

It is 6 in the morning. A tepid eerie silence and a solemn glow of dawn are engulfing everything that meets the eye. The windows were all open, the blinds were in shackles. The entire room was set in tumbrils, things flowing here and there. Nothing was where I kept the last night, and yet nothing went missing. I didn't have no pets, didn't have any company, and yet this morose macabre feeling was prevalent in the room, as if I was being constantly watched and monitored. Hardly being able to pucker open my eyes, I crashed my thumb at the bottom of the bed, and stooped to caress the sore thumb, toppling down in my effort and falling down on my back to cause another hit at the back of my head. It started bleeding immediately. So much for the morning treat, getting the taste of your own blood, feeding on your own diet of iron. And just then, it was just then, when this scurrilous man's voice started ringing in my ears. "12 hours" it said in an emphasizing tone. I looked around in sheer bewilderment. No one to be seen, no mikes, no speakers, nothing! Just that one voice and the constant presence of the one to whom it belonged. 

I fixed my head with some dressing and some strong coffee. It seemed to be a good resort for the moment. I thought maybe the gloomy voice was just a reminisce of what I did the last day. In my own gloomy past with all the somber things I did, there was no scope of complete redemption. I started relishing the mellows of the morning birds that made chirping and warbling sounds right in front of my kitchen window. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, I felt the tree to which the nest belonged, to rustle in a violent way, as if something was climbing on it. What I witnessed post that, was one of the most deranging of sights. The birds were blown apart in the snap of fingers, with blood and viscera flowing out in perfect streams, all lowing towards the bottom and going linearly. I saw the sight unfold in utter disbelief and just when I felt like rushing out, I saw the black and red blood assuming a form, as if composing letters. And it was then that the wry calligraphy gave way to the message, "Hurry Up!". I heard a clock gong rattling in the drawing room, and it rung 7 times to indicate it was 7. But wait, I don't have a clock with a gong!

I believed my rooms were ransacked, and started running through all my things; my grisly, gory things, my own depraved universe. I could see all my stuff all right, but my most important creation, my plasma storage device was missing. It shriveled my senses and my heart felt as if it had been impounded. "How in the world they found it?" I whimpered in irate. I immediately rung up my partner, who wasn't picking up his cell. I rang up his wife, and she did pick up. She was incessantly and incoherently crying and maybe didn't even know she picked it up. I shouted and I growled and all I could hear was whining. Then she responded all of a sudden. "He's gone, all blown up, into bits and pieces". Then there was a momentary silence, and the voice said "Can you see your future?". 'What?' I, said, baffled. The voice on the other side wavered in undulatory fashion, like small changes in the modulation every now and then, doing something. It was then that I realized that they were laughing and howling, not crying, with each vying for it's share of limelight. I realized even his wife was gone. I was just about to hang up when the phone started getting hot, like an inferno reigning all over. Suddenly, sparks emanated from it, and I dropped it. I couldn't believe what I saw. The entire phone melted away like that and disappeared in thin air, like plasma! 

The TV switched on its own and a voice full of sobriety, the morning reporter, said "Welcome to the 8'O clock news". I moved towards it, just to see her gaze still fixated on me. It was pretty amazing how big a gaffe they managed to pull off. The reporter, my own girl, looking at the teleprompt for so long. As if she saw me even from the station. I was in her heart all right, but this looked surreal. A few seconds later, I realized she wasn't starring at the telemprompt, she was actually looking right at me, as if she knew I was watching her from this side. Her smile became sordid as if melancholy singing in her ears.  "I'm really sorry!" said her frail voice. I couldn't possibly know what to do. I rushed towards the TV and started shaking it tremulously. I realized soon it wasn't just the TV. I got messages on my phone from pals. "What's going on", "What's she saying" and all kinds of inquests. There was no one to stop her in the station. There was no silhouette at the station, no voices, just pure calm silence. She just kept staring at me, literally breaking all TRP records in Indian history. After a long brusque sigh, she spoke again. "They're out! and now they'll wreak havoc". In what seemed to be a momentous transition, the entire station started tumbling. Her face grew more pale, and my experienced news reporter, appeared like a fledgling just before she was butchered into pieces on national television by an invisible truncheon. She was right, they're out! The TV screen blacked out with a dull yet striking '0900' all over it. Time was slipping out.

I rummaged through the mess at my home for links, but found nothing that could help me retrace the plasma container. Spent my day, running all over, visiting contacts, acquaintances and seeking help from everyone. I was constantly reminded of the passing time through ingenious notifications. All my efforts went futile. There was no sign of the plasma container. I just walked back to our laboratory, which was still untamed, seemingly. The discreetness of its location was of paramount importance and hence we always reached it furtively. A place that only 4 people knew about, 3 of whom were already dead. I didn't know why but we should have seen this coming. 4 scientists of advanced nuclear and material physics, ferreting the world for all plausible explanations. Well, what bad we could have done to have this dastardly wrath fall upon us. I went past the retinal scan and and all access mechanisms. I could have taken a furlough in a place as secretive as this one. However, our enemy knew no bounds. I walked towards the empty plasma container shells and cursed ourselves for not taking them back to labs and putting them in their designated spaces. We just went complacent and took them with us, believing no one could even know what they are. And now, the entire world was in jeopardy, and we could do nothing but await nemesis. Then I started walking towards our other large invention, the plasma loop. I was left agape and the sight sent shocks across my nervous system. The machine was turned on! I suddenly saw 5 infuriated poltergeists, like demon balls, flying past me. I just had one hour left. Enough to tell you my story!

We 4 were scientists by profession, but ones who knew a little too much. A coven of excessively talented schmucks. We analyzed dying bodies, by acquiring subjects that were left stranded  - dying dogs, dying cats, and even dying humans. It sounds more hideous and repugnant than it is but these subjects were not accounted for. We found out that souls are entrapped in bodies partially in mucosa and partially in atomic plasma. Our acuity helped us find out a way to capture the plasma when a bodily entity dies. The corporeal death is inevitable, but the plasma could be saved as a source of energy, what they call spirit in their religious argot. We stored plasma from multiple beings in one container. It was a deadly and lethal melange, much powerful than a ten kilobomb. Hence we stored sturdy containers that could be opened either by force from within the plasma or through external plasmic force or through special codes and apparatus. We became so good at it that we maundered around physics and did further experiments. We invented the plasma loop. It is one of the most mystical things to be ever made and now I imprecate our genius to do that. The plasma loop, whose idea I envisaged, can put the plasma in time warp, which can allow us to do multiple experiments with time travel. We never knew what happens inside but we analyzed results and found out evidence that time travel could be taking place. It all went so well till yesterday, and now, there's 10 minutes to my departure.

Last night, we acquired dying bodies of a sabath, who carried out some seance. We tried storing their plasma. While doing so, we realized that there were multiple beings hovering around in the room already, like free plasma. We ensnared them as well, only to realize that the witch coven actually summoned a billion souls. Only a million souls could be stored in the plasma containers with each million adding 1 Kg of weight. We faltered to store all of them and they growled and harangued as they were summoned but not sent back. It seems we were followed and our clandestine operations, didn't remain clandestine anymore. We had a tail, and that of a rather ravenous opponent. Our plasma containers were taken away and the plasma outside broke off the seals, just like we knew it could. All the plasma we ever gathered, was free now, and chased us down as a congregation. Good though that it's trapped inside the time warp, as the plasma loop tuns on only when plasma is inside. Bad though, that the plasma of three from my team was also entrapped inside, just so that they too could relish the moribund enigma of being trapped forever. Once you're trapped, you can go inside, travel to the past, and see yourself die and your plasma ripped out, again and again! You can only be a silent spectator, you cannot change anything. We dallied with the laws of physics like a philander, but we were a contravention to the laws of nature. It's 6 PM, and I can almost feel it, the metal hallows are nearby, and there I see, my internals getting twisted out, hurled and impelling the other organs to come out, the floor ripe with my blood and forming a pattern on it. All the energy left in my was enough for me to vanish post seeing that. "Time's Up! Ready to go in again?". The next thing I remember, was waking up at 6 again, with my room in utter shambles, and with a heavy groaning voice pronouncing "12 hours".  

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

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