His Last Words

Introduction

IntroductionThe footsteps became louder and clearer as the unpredictably dangerous man descended the flight of stairs. Dr Grey Hoffman, the paranormal researcher and the best PhD student of Ontario University wasn’t ready to curdle himself inside that small cave like space where he hid himself.

He was afraid, not of the unavoidable clutch of death, but of his oath. An oath that he had to keep before his fall.

Luckily, he used to carry a pad and a fountain pen with him everywhere. That day was no different. The small tube on the tunnel’s wall was about to lose its glow. The perfect resting spot of the moths had already made its customers upset. Luckily, Hoffman had the habit of writing under low light conditions. That skill had earned him comparisons to panthers during his college life.

The roaring voice of the water gushing through the metal pipes clothed with algae and the defecating smell re-announced the fact that he was hiding in a sewer. He took out that pad again and stared at the torn page.

Oblivious to everything, he was partially relieved over the thought that he had managed to write down what he had to, for someone special. Someone who could help fulfil his oath after his demise. He only prayed to Jesus to let the message reach that man in the manner he had planned. He prayed for that man to catch up and get the clues.

People often make extremely moronic moves when their lives are in jeopardy. The same was the situation of Hoffman.

He had written the letter for his ally and was expecting him to get it; but he forgot that no one comes to a strange place uninvited. He had the pad, there were four blank pages left and above all there was his pen. His wife’s last gift to him.

He closed his eyes to thank her, cursing the man who took her away from his life. He was reminded of the first night she shared with him under the moonlight, the day they decided to share their lives and the day when he last kissed her and complimented her with his favourite phrase “You are the soul of my perishable body”.

He quickly raised his hand to write down the invitation. He had no idea about how he would send the invitation, but he kept writing. His hands were filled with blood. He had been trying desperately to stop the blood oozing out of his stomach, which had been penetrated by a metal bullet, fired from a standard 9mm pistol. His mind had stopped working and thus his un-accomplishable plan didn’t appear to be so.

He was a fast writer, and even his roaring pain failed to reduce his hand’s velocity. He was done writing before that man; or rather the devil with the face of a man managed to track him. Hoffman tried running the other way dragging his wounded body. But alas! The devil had an accomplice.

Hoffman tried fighting his way out but the accomplice was no less than a devil himself. The accomplice didn’t have the face of a devil but did have the brutal strength that a devil must possess to keep his reputation.

With a single push he made Hoffman fall on the floor; his intestines ready to bulge out. Hoffman spat spurts of blood into the foul smelling and pungent stream flowing through the sewers. He was about to close his eyes, but he was desperately guarding the letter, keeping it close to his chest.

The accomplice turned over his half-dead body, and snatched the letter from him. He tucked the letter into his shirt’s pocket before the devil reached the spot himself.

“Ah, the Hellcaper is tasting his own blood! Brilliant! Wouldn’t you try using this again?” he said holding a crooked axe. It was the same axe with which Hoffman had tried to defend himself. He could very well imagine what was going to happen to him.

“In the name of lord, please spare me!” he shouted.

“Then give me what I want. Your life will be free from the peril that’s about to engulf it.”

“No, if that’s what you want then I better embrace death, but you will never be successful, he’ll come. Only he can destroy you and he will! Wok!”

Hoffman closed his eyes and remembered his wife’s lovely face. He remembered how stunning she looked when she walked past the beach in her black lingerie holding his hands. He remembered the promises he made to her but failed to keep.

“Come to me now dear! Let’s keep our promise of being together for ever” said his wife, with her sugary smile when he closed his eyes for ever when the axe landed on his head.

“I’ll make an example of him. Let’s play with this corpse, before we incinerate it completely. The swine had a robust neck. I couldn’t decapitate him with a single blow!” said the maniacal devil.

His accomplice read the letter and then tore it to pieces immediately. “Don’t burn him! Not yet! He might help us take down two birds with a single stone.”

“What exactly is your plan friend?”

“I wanna….announce the start of a game; a game which we’ll play to win. But we’ll need our opponent to enter the scene.”

“And who is the opponent that deserves our attention?”

“Professor Amit Chowdhury!”