Dhampir of Kalika

৩. portraits

Pictures speak a thousand words.

****

When the door opened, Maya could see nothing but darkness. She felt being pulled by snakey tendrils into an endless abyss, sucked by the force of an enormous black hole. She stood near the door frame for a solid minute before stepping a foot in the mansion. Light finally came to her eyes, though in thin rays and a meagre amount.

A man of average height with a receding grey hairline stood in front of her. Maya held back the loud gasp that was going to escape her throat. Her eyes had widened for a moment, giving away the shock.

In the man's eyes spiralled beams of black like tar swimming over burnt brown oil. The eyeballs drank away all the light and emanated a ghastly glow.

"Welcome, Maya."

His voice was deep and hoarse like the staggering edges of an unpolished tune. He moved aside to let Maya in. Slowly, the darkness went away and revealed the grand mansion, as if it was his ordinary build that kept the extraordinary illumination at bay.

There were curtains of purple and orange kantha work that kept the windows hidden. The light that was in the room came from the chandelier above that reflected it from the several lamps and candles. The entrance opened into a big assembly of sort that looked like the daalaan. There were two floors above, the uppermost one being less illuminated and having a dull appearance, much like smoke eternally inhabited the place. There was a big alpana done in the middle of the floor. There stood two more men- a tall one with fair skin and another curly haired one who shared the same dark skin tone as the older man from before.

Something twisted inside Maya's guts when she saw those two men. Their eyes were the normal brown of humans but their faces looked very pale. Even with that dark colour, the man of curls looked as if the blood had been drained out of his body. The taller one still looked decent- his paleness had a porcelain touch to it.

Ram came and put the luggage beside Maya and wiped his forehead. "This is Boro Babu," he said, pointing to the old man.

"I am Kalikacharan Das, zamindar of this village and head of the family. The one who had phoned you." He then turned towards the other two men in the room. "This is my older son Mrinjay Das." The taller one joined his hands in a namaskara. "And this is my second-oldest child, Manihar."

Maya greeted them. "Glad to meet you all."

"Would you like to freshen up before eating? I will ask Ram to show you your room."

"Yes. That will be good."

Maya relaxed when she understood she would have some time to gather herself before meeting the men again. Without any delay Ram escorted her to her room on the first floor. There was a bed, an almirah and a small table in the room. There was a tubelight too and a dirty fan. A jug of water was kept on the table.

"I have already emptied the almirah so that you can keep your belongings. Have some rest and come down for the morning meal."

Ram went away humming a song to himself. It was strange, to Maya, how this servant was dealing everyday with such mysterious masters.

Not that there was something in their appearances that troubled Maya immensely. Maybe the pallid look was a genetic thing. But why was the place so less lit up? As if they loved to dwell in darkness. Or it could be the pettiness to save on electricity.

Then they would have not curtained the windows. It is peculiar.

Maya cursed under her breath. Where the hell have I brought myself? These group of weird men and their weird home...