𝐈𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐚~𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐞 | 𝟐𝟏+

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫| 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫?

The man looked very intently at the cell number, staring at its wood-ish grey iron-clad door with a small speak-in sliding compartment, and other than that, it had a biometric retina lock, which can only be opened by legally permitted authorities and other high elites who had permission.

He stood there, thinking how much he had been waiting, while his head of security, Daksh Rai, and his peers scanned for any discrepancies or underlying threats in the surrounding area with the high-tech A.I. metal-detecting robots.

"All clear; Mr. Raizada can go."

As soon as the words were let out, the man raced into the cell. Without waiting or letting anyone inside behind him, he entered and looked at the stoned gray gravel wall, a pedent lamp, a sufficient concrete slab for sleep, and a piss bowl. The room smelled fetidous; anyone would go and retch at the closest proximity of the ordor.

But the man standing in front didn't seem to care at all; the only thing running through his head was the 'key' he needed to find; no scratch that he was restless and he wanted it this time, and he was not leaving behind this place without his answers.

Taking the steps forward to his right corner, the man spoke in a very forbidden silky and lavish deep tone. "Every time I came here, you told me to go away, but this time I won't until you tell me."

"Ha–ha... Raizada, kaise ana hua..."

An old scratching, fading voice bounced the walls, along with a mischievous chuckle. There in the corner was an old man, rather very old or more like eons old to be identified, with crumpling white-ish black hair falling onto his face, clothes torn and tattered with mud-dust piling in his nails. Over all, the man was living a worse life than a destitute beggar.

He snarled and zapped toward the man in a long stride and slammed his Rolex clad on the old wall, making it rumble under his strength.

"Are you telling me or not... As far as I remember, someone made a promise to me about telling me on this day."

The old man laughed a little and nodded his head, signing for him to sit on the concrete slab.

"Sorry to hold you back, but there was a reason for that too."

The man perplexedly looked at him, not understanding the reason behind the long wait of over 750 years.

"And what is that bullshit reason, for which you have made me the Raizada wait for more than a mellenia? And what is really so hard opening it—"

The bent old man stood up, looking at him ferociously with red-veiny eyes, but he sat there waiting for the right balanced explanation to come out; he was far too far gone to be scared by red eyes or scary faces.

"Do you remember when you sent me here? "

"Yes, because why not? You were the first person to enter, and if I am not wrong, you will be the last."

"Do you remember when you sent me here?"

The man clenched his teeth, remembering what happened on that fateful night. Sensing him gritting his teeth and the following silence. The old man continued.

"You tried to open it, didn't you... "

"What the fuck are talking about and how do you—"

"What is the use of lying, boss... I know everything... What were you doing that night... I just know."

The old one smiled, looking into nowhere, but for the man sitting there, he became still leering into the window, the memories lining and re-living that dark night.

###

Six months ago—

Place–Jaipur, Rajasthan

"Is Azad Shekon sent to Paris Prison?"

Daksh checked-up with the authorities of France and Éloi Leandres, the chief-general of La Santee prison. "Yes, sir, sare bando-bast ho chuke hai."

The man hummed, looking into the Apple iPad, gazing over the rising stocks of his business empire, but on the other side, Daksh was still very confused over the departure of Mr. Shekhon, He knew that his sir and that man were feuding, but being sent to the most cruel place on earth really didnt make sense to him.

"Sir, I have a question hanging in my head–"

The man gestured at Daksh, "Go ahead—whatever it is. "

"Why was Mr. Shekon–" Before he continued, he was interrupted by the guards running along with the mining chief, Ms. Miraya Chatterjee.

"Ms. Chatterjee, everything is fine; why are you being anti-huff?"

"Where is Mr. Raizada? Where is he?!"

She was acting frantic, like a mine bomb had come and dropped on her. Daksh turned to find only an empty hall. He immediately stopped one of the nine housekeepers.

"Shrivasta, where is Mr. Raizada? Kaha hai, he was here just now? Mein unse bath karne wala tha, and Ms. Chatterjee wants to meet him right away."

"Saab is his study–"

Miraya didnt stop until the housekeeper could finish; she raced along hall with Daksh, who was running with her without any clue. She immediately dashed into his study without heeding the words of Darbaris, standing parallel on both sides of the twelve-foot brown mahogany, golden ivory-carved double doors.

"Ma'am, please sto–"

"Mr. Raizada–"

There he was sitting, behind the red sandal-wood desk with jaipuri silver carvings, the seat made of finest sheep leather, and the gold-dusk shelves with modern and ancient books adorning themselves neatly in rows that went up to fifteen feet. A great piece of Chanderi-designed chandelier hanging and huge tiffany glass were used for the ventilation of the room, and the room itself was carved with a red sand design, extensively done with the finest craftsmen.

"Ms. Chatterjee, what brings you here, and that too, you have the nerve to disturb the meeting?" The man spoke up, signalling the clientele to wait out. "What is kind of behavi–"

"Mr. Raizada... Nichi-ae-Zanjaar was found!"

###