Only V

Chapter 18 - Tale of the tower

Soham stepped out of the car, the downpour soaking his hair and clothes almost instantly. The sky was a dark tapestry of clouds, heavy and interwoven, casting a gloomy shadow over the scene. The boys got out and followed Soham. Raindrops pattered rhythmically on the ground as they approached a dilapidated house at the end of the street.

Soham strode purposefully to the front door, pushing it open without hesitation. The door creaked loudly, protesting the intrusion. Avyan and the others exchanged uneasy glances before trailing in after him. Inside, the air was musty, filled with the scent of damp wood and neglect.

An old man with a long white beard sat in a dimly lit corner. The room's only source of light came from a flickering lantern on the floor, its glow casting eerie shadows on the walls adorned with firearms. The man's hoop earring caught Avyan's eye, its crystalline surface reflecting a kaleidoscope of colours. He shifted uncomfortably, the dazzling light momentarily blinding him.

The old man, seated in front of a cluttered mini bar, sipped from a fancy glass. His eyes were weary but alert, taking in the newcomers with a hint of curiosity. His nails were old and yellow, his skin wrinkled like parchment. The place was a mess—clothes strewn everywhere, a lantern toppled over, a painting stained with cranberry juice, and food rotting on the table. It was clear he lived alone.

"Welcome," the old man rasped, his voice a low, tired growl. Soham walked over and sat beside him, their interaction betraying a history fraught with tension. The old man acknowledged him with a slow nod and reached for another glass. He dropped a large, chunky ice cube into it, the sound echoing in the silent room.

"What'll be your poison?" he asked, his eyes never leaving Soham's face.

Soham glanced around, taking in the disarray, a contemplative look on his face. "Oh, scotch is fine," he replied, lighting a cigarette with practiced ease. The flicker of the lighter briefly illuminated his face, revealing a hint of tension in his eyes.

The old man poured the amber liquid into the glass and handed it to Soham. Avyan and the others watched silently, unsure of what to say or do. The old man's gaze shifted to them, his expression unreadable.

"Your friends?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Soham replied, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. "They're with me."

The old man grunted in acknowledgment, turning his attention back to his drink, "Been a while since I had company."

Soham nodded, taking a sip of his scotch, "What do you know Caleb?"

Caleb chuckled, a dry, mirthless sound. He took another sip of his drink, his eyes distant. "I told them not to go south but men of Zeesham just as obstinate as him" he muttered, almost to himself.

Avyan's eyes narrowed as he listened carefully. Ishan edged closer, straining to catch every word, while Anirudh, without a second thought, picked up the bottle of scotch from the table and took a long swig directly from it. Caleb shot him a sidelong glance but didn't say anything about it.

The old man continued, his voice tinged with regret. "A resident's wife went missing. He said she had gone south to pick some vegetables from their farm, but she never returned. I warned them not to go that way. It's a pretty vacant area, not a soul around for miles, but Yuvi didn't listen to me. He took the team there. That boy never listens. I always told you to not let him be in the lead." Caleb's gaze turned even more distant, as if he were seeing the events unfold again in his mind. "That's the last I heard of him."

Soham's expression grew more serious. "What do you think happened to them?" he asked, leaning in closer.

Caleb shrugged, a heavy sadness in his eyes. "Who knows? That place... it's strange. It had been vacated for long but it wasn't dangerous up until now"