After Midnight- [I Lost Everything]

Arcanum

[Author]

“The riddle of reality and pretense!”

—❁—

A palace, every wall of which is known for its magnificent architecture. But who knows what happens behind these walls? Behind the walls are the deepest secrets, and the greatest regrets. Some of the walls have been whitewashed with fine carvings of different colours adorning its tranquility, while some have been covered with drops of blood, dishonoring the white with indelible stains.

Every word in those mysterious palaces expresses another mystery— unsolved and intriguing! An unknown land, unheard of where you find nothing but darkness under the chandeliers dripping with the glass lusters. The towering walls made of the strongest material are enough to muffle the screams.

The screams of justice, the screams of equality, and the screams of dreams.

Sometimes the eerie and austere silence lies in the antiquity of its walls. Bittersweet memories buried in the bones of the earthlings living there. In one’s heart there is a tempest storm of emotions rising insatiably to leave everything behind and the other one chained by responsibilities wears a mask of neutrality under the guise of futility.

Three castles, but with unanimous tales, and that was yearning! One yearned for limitless potency, another yearned for its heir’s return and the third yearned for its heiress who had not long filled its walls with the melodious sound of her anklets.

—◉◉—

The sky was murky, and a thin drizzle was falling. Two men were visible in a secluded dungeon, in the muffled light of a bulb dangled from a wire in the ceiling, one of them attacking the other and the other with painful screams proving his torturer’s mercy. If the victim has a chance to describe his torturer would be “Devil’s incarnate”.

The dungeon was full of weapons, emphasizing the inhumanity of the torturer. He walked towards the wall where all the weapons were hanging as if they were an antique masterpiece in a museum. He flung from one weapon to another, and finally he grabbed a wheel with a devilish smile on his face. The torturer then proceeded to break each limb and joint of the victim with a heavy, iron-enhanced wheel. The wounded man groaned in heart-wrenching pain. The ruthless man then grabbed him by the arm and made him sit on his already broken knees. He let out a bloodcurdling scream sending shivers to the lifeless walls.

“Scream louder! It’s pleasing to my ears.” He laughed like a psychopath and slapped his bloody cheeks so hard that made him wince in pain again.

A heavy footsteps were heard, intermingling with the torturer’s psychopathic laughter and the victim’s heart-rending cries, the door swung open and revealed the monster hiding behind the curtains of his royalty— Raghuveer Singh Amethiya!

“Maharaj! He is Kishan Singh, who was hired by Aparajita’s grandfather, Harshvardhan Singh Rathore to keep an eye on your movements. He was working here as a royal servant and was trying to meet Aparajita!” Himmat Singh remarked, kicking in the ribs of a man who was taking a few last breaths of his life. A painful groan came from the mouth of the half-dead man lying on the cold floor.

He stared down at the man, whose face was covered by only red, the red fluid. He could smell the irony fragment of blood coming out from his trembling body. And his scrutinizing eyes instantly examined the silhouette of drops of blood on the floor of the dungeon.