Silent Downfall

Chapter Two

"Wait!"

A feeble groan crawled out of a perspiring Mayank. An amalgamation of helplessness and fury was devouring him inch by inch.

"Don't move!"

Despite the dearth of light, Mayank could make out a hooded silhouette that stood a short distance ahead. He, however, could barely catch hold of it.

"Give it back!"

The remnants of sternness in Mayank's voice evaporated. The words spoken by it were now merely futile pleadings.

The hooded figure was indifferent to his misfortune. It was soon engulfed by the darkness ahead, while Mayank stood stranded in the center of despair. His derelict heart seemed to growl in protest. He sat on his knees, letting his trembling fingers burrow through the soil beneath him.

"Give it back," he muttered in vain. "It's mine... It's mine..."

**********

Waseef let his spine relax against the comfortable snowy pillow with his eyes focused on the television screen, which was carrying on its regular job of offering continuous drivel. His ears, on the other hand, were lent elsewhere in a rather reluctant fashion. The captain blocked an exhausted yawn as he moved his eyes to Nayif, the slender opener. His pale body was entirely seized by a red hue of rage.

"Fines? Utter rubbish!" bellowed Nayif as he clenched his fist for the umpteenth time. "It's not that I expect a better show from such inept authority."

"Calm down, boy," said Waseef. "You are going to wake him up."

"Calm down?" He cast a quick look at the sleeping kid, letting his voice descend. "If that crap was one of our lads, they would have sent him behind bars."

The captain suppressed a strong urge to roll his eyes. "Nayif, nobody gets jailed for—"

The sentence was abandoned in the middle as he sensed traces of slight movement from his side. The rumpus indeed pulled the child back to reality. He got up slowly and faced Waseef, whose palm was gingerly placed on his head.

"Good moorni—" A moderate yawn stood as an impediment, deterring the kid from carrying on as he rubbed his eyes.

"Morning chipmunk."

"And the fine!" Nayif cried once more. "How much has that Mayank guy been fined? He pays his driver more than that, I bet you!"

"For how long have you served as his driver?" Fayzan inquired.

The scarlet shade on Nayif's face grew deeper. As he jumped into the bed to catch hold of the child, Waseef got down and shook his head. He knew what was coming next. The captain walked off, ignoring the outburst of rage, a shrill yelp, and what was undoubtedly a plea for help. He turned the doorknob and stepped out, leaving the commotion behind.

He got inside the elevator and headed down. The wild emotions that were strangling his mind had no scruples; in his agony lay their joy. As the elevator sank, his chest only grew heavier with uncertainty. Waseef cracked his knuckles as he got out and took several steps forward. In a mechanical fashion, he checked out a random corner. The discovery that followed the action inspired a rather guilty grin to spread across his lips. He walked to the classical round-arm sofa where the familiar figure was sitting, immersed deep in the newspaper in his hands.

Waseef directed a mild poke toward his forehead. As it hit the target, the victim looked up at once. The astonishment on his face was drained by a beam the moment he laid his eyes on the attacker.