Silent Downfall

Chapter Twenty-Six

Mayank sat still on the balcony with his back against the wall. He did not know how many days had passed since he stepped out of the strange village and into the familiar world, into the arms of his best friend, who had kept track of every second of his absence. It could not be more than a week. It nevertheless felt like eternity.

The sight of the night sky suffocating under the dark clouds seemed to be oddly satisfying to him; at the moment, he relished being one with the darkness around him. There was one more thing that his shattered heart desired—silence, utter silence.

Darkness. Silence. Nothingness. How sweet. How blissful.

Silence, in a long, black cloak, stood on the other side of the door before Mayank. It was beyond the perception of human senses, yet he saw it clearly. It was a plain old wooden door, distasteful to most. Yet in what a pleasant, alluring voice it invited Mayank! He could not decline its call.

Mayank felt the key in his hand. It was cold and warm, promising and uncertain, friendly and fiendish. He was certain that it could put an end to the irony of his life. A bizarre sense of excitement took over him as he thought of how close to the door he stood. Aanvik was not too far away, and he could show up anytime. He would certainly snatch his key from him, but for a reason unknown, Mayank was not afraid.

The all-rounder laughed in an ominous voice. What would Aanvik say if he told him that he was not mad at anyone anymore? No one stole his reason to live. They won it fair and square. But he could not afford to wait to amuse himself with his reaction.

Mayank unfolded his hand to set his eyes on the key. It did not take much light to pass through the door. At the precise moment, he could not tell what took him so long to find it. It had always been there, waiting for his arrival.

He held it between his thumb and index. The key, the blade. Locking his wrist vein under his bold stare, he unlocked the door.