Dhampir of Kalika

১৭.‌ another murder

He hides his sins under the carpet of the night.

****

Just when Maya thought things were going to be easy, they went downhill. It had been two days, and she took up almost a sort of meditative silence, avoiding communication as much as possible. She would spend most of her time outside the mansion in search of a cosy spot to relax and to just let things flow on their own. She felt she knew everything, perhaps she did know most of it, but she didn't know how to approach the subject.

The number of culprits were more than one, and she was afraid of creating a mess while addressing the mystery. She still didn't know the extent of the vampire's powers, and she didn't want to underestimate them.

Maya had found a pond in the village. It was a quiet spot with ducks and moss around. No one seemed to come here, so she spent her time pondering near the waters. In her grip was now the paper she had found in the room of Benoy Das.

"That dead man almost killed me."

She could hear her own heartbeat, loud and desperate to escape. But her mind was in a relentless pursuit of mystery, and she didn't want to run. Not when she knew who were killing the girls.

Looking at the paper, she wondered what script it was written in. Some of the letters stood out as familiar, but overall it was unreadable. She didn't know this language.

"Perhaps this is used solely by vampires. That's why it was in the room of Benoy Das."

And that shining silver dagger?

She was perplexed by the matter. Why would vampires keep a silver dagger in their room when it's fatal for them? That object could either lead her astray from solving the issue or give her new sight. Perhaps the motive of keeping such a weapon in the house was written in that paper.

Benoy Das always repeated the same thing– that their race killed their own. But why? What she had deduced completely contrasted what Benoy Das was saying.

Unless she reconsidered the identity of a particular man, whom she now knew as something more than just a human. And that the picture of Radha Devi was tarnished and torn apart deliberately. These two things, however unrelated they might have been, were indirectly connected in Maya's perspective.

A waddling of ducks came and swum in the pond, going quack-quack and lightening the atmosphere. The ambience was of quietude and inner retrospection, which was opposed by the charming and lively spirit of the birds. They had grown familiar to the guest who came to visit them everyday. Thus, they often came to Maya, pecking her toes for little treats. Maya carried some crumbled biscuits which she had taken from Ram, and fed those to the merry ducks. A smile of solace danced on her lips, her unmatched irises glowing in the meagre sunlight that passed through the mesh of leaves and twigs.

Maya breathed in the fresh air, smelling the wet grass and the wildflowers that grew near the pebbles. For a moment she forgot everything, and just let herself drown in the pleasure of nature.

When interrupting the harmony, the sound of crunching dried leaves and the thudding of sandals came to her ears. She looked back and found the doctor standing behind her. "I saw you coming in this direction since the last few days. I hope I am not intruding," he said and sat beside her.

Maya went over all the conclusions she had met. Surely, Chandrasekhara was named such because of a reason, right? He wouldn't be harming her...

"I don't think my stay in Khatra is going to last longer," she declared.

Raktim's face turned wan. "Why? Ar-are you leaving?"

"Yes, but not before solving this mystery."

"So you have reached the end?"