At Death's Door

1. The Distress Call

Rain clouds cloaked the dark night looming over the city. The windows in the skyline were void of any light and apart from the sighing cold wind, the city had fallen silent in its sleep.

In the zero hour of the night, a police operator working night shift received a distress call.

"Hello? Police? There's a dead body in my neighbor's house." An elderly female voice, trembling with fear, said on the call. "I think someone killed her!"

"Don't worry, ma'am. Are you safe where you are?" The operator said.

"Yes, I think, no one else is in the house, just the body bleeding." The neighbor said.

"Okay. Tell us your name and where are you calling from."

"I am Anita, Ashok Nagar, at the small houses behind Pallavi Apartments, um, near the grass circle cross roads."

"Okay. I am sending officers from a station in your jurisdiction. Don't touch or move anything. Help is coming to you. Do you want me to stay on call?"

"No."

"Okay." The operator said and cut the call.

The phone in the police station rang frantically, piercing through the silence. A constable seated at the table across put his mobile down and got up to answer the phone. He picked the receiver up.

"What is it?" The constable said irritated by the unwanted distraction.

The operator without wasting any further time said, "A possible homicide in Ashok Nagar."

The constable pulled a face, he took his pen out and began noting down the details on a paper. "Okay, yes, we are going." He said and put the receiver down almost slamming it.

A lightning struck within the distant clouds, it sounded as if a bomb had exploded in the sky and the night would fall upon at once.

2. Rotting From Inside

Earlier that day. The morning sun wasn't as potent as usually in the February month. The gray clouds scattered across the rather frozen sky and cold wind slowly slithered through the city. In the slums at Ashok Nagar, Monika was preparing her breakfast inside her old house. She was a 31 years old woman, brown skin and slim body, the darkness under her eyes and the slight wrinkles on her face made her look ten years older.

Her house only had one room which was build with uneven concrete mixture and half bricks, and all the walls were seeped in rain water from previous night. The paint had started peeling off and it added a mild but foul odor to the air inside. It was erect with three similar houses adjacent to it and across four more similar houses in a row. In contrast, other houses had newer paint, better wall structure and also had their window open. Her outer walls were blue-white, rotting and broken at the foot, and her dusty window was shut.

Inside; she changed into a clean yellow saree, she combed her short hair into a pony tail and got ready to leave for work. She checked the steaming rice and turned the gas off, beside it the chicken curry was ready and smelled spicy. She took a disposable plate, served some rice in it and layered some curry over the rice. She placed the plate on a chair next to an old wooden cupboard. She moved the cupboard away and pushed the curtain uncovering the wooden door behind it. The door was firmly bolted to a recently build brick wall and the house's wall itself. It had a slit at the foot, it was so dark that no one could see through it, perhaps it was the only way for air to pass through. She banged on the door once, took the plate of rice and slid it in through the slit. Something, or someone moved and noises came from inside as if an animal rushed toward the door. She pulled the curtain again and replaced the cupboard. Picking up the house keys, she checked her hair in the face mirror which was tied on the window bars. She locked the main door from the outside and left.