The Reason.
"Baba, why did we build this safehouse? We already have so many security guards and body guards." A small Devansh asked his father as he entered the mysterious room.
"When you'll get older you'll know that the guards are not enough when your accomplishments are way too huge. And about this room, don't you like it? A cool hiding place for you and me?" Devraaj asked winking at his son.
"Yes, I like it. But can I tell Ansh and Nihal about this?" Devansh asked once again. Devraaj looked at his son worriedly but then smiled and said,
"I am afraid you can't D'. This place holds a lot of secrets regarding our company and some secrets need to be kept within you and me. I hope you understand the seriousness of the matter, you're my captain sweetheart. I know you understand." He said.
Devansh furrowed his eyebrows in confusion but nodded his head anyway.
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Watching the CCTV footage of the last few months as Danuj sits on his chair, his mind roams around every possible memories. Some take him back to his childhood to his father, some take him to when he and Ekansh were close and most of it decide to torture him with hers.
That's when her voice brings him out of his torture only to be tortured more. He looks at the screen. There she is, wearing her panda t-shirt and grey track pant, sitting on the couch beside Nihal and munching on her favorite chips. A small smile forms on his lips as he remembers her words,
"See, we are Bengalis sir, we eat to our heart's content and don't regret. That's what makes us more beautiful."
Yeah, a foodie she is. As if immediately the reality hits him and his smile disappears. His jaw clench.
Then the memories of last night comes back plaguing his thoughts. The picture of her singing so beautifully surfaces infront of him, along with Ekansh's audacity. He touched her. HE. TOUCHED. HER! He immediately stands up and goes to the window, his breathing becoming heavy, just like yesterday when he almost ran out of that place. He ran towards the hidden basement door.
He stood infront of the back side of the old mansion, his home. For the first time he felt lucky that Ekansh decided not to renovate this part. He very cautiously walked towards the window that once used to be the window of the library. He placed his hand under the windowsill and started searching for the switch. He was hopeful and nervous at the same time. "What if it doesn't work anymore, it has been ages." He thought to himself. But when he eventually pressed it, the ground covered in wild green grasses started parting into two circular halves.
Without his knowledge he released a breath he didn't know he was holding. He then turned on the torch in his phone and took the descending stairs. At the third stair he bent down and touched the side of the fourth stair and pressed another switch that closed the ground once again. That's when he registered the amount of dust he just inhaled. The coughing fit was impossibly loud, if it wasn't created soundproof, he would've drawn the attentions of some douches, that call themselves guards here.
Cobwebs, lizards and small insects have taken over the place, that once used to be his and his father's most loved hideout. The more he entered the more his heart shattered, the more he remembered that he did lost his father right infront of his own eyes. He couldn't save him, couldn't do a thing, being the weakling that he was. If only the same would've happened now, he knew he would've saved his baba. He found the tiny bed covered in dust, he remembered setting that bed cover himself. His eyes fall on the shelves filled with DVDs, his father loved those. He loved recording things, day to day activities, anything that he considered special or important. He ran his fingers over the boxes. His eyes fall on one that says "D's First Day At Office: my little kid has grown up!"
He clenched his jaw and turned around only to find his father's once favorite but now ruined ashtray on the table. Ruined, everything was ruined. That room, their happy memories, his life. That's when he remembered the main reason for his return. Sudha, the girl who came into his life only to destroy him from the very core. But did she come or did he drag her into his life? But she did care for him like no one else. Her eyes, they were so honest, so true. Was everything a simple lie then? Did she do this intentionally? Revenge? Impossible! He knew Vasudha Roy was capable of everything but she could never stoop that low. Then why? Why did she leave him all alone? To die? She had to answer. He deserved every bit of it, every bit of her.
He moved towards the stairs that'll lead towards the terrace and the other part of it would lead towards the third floor. He chose the terrace, because probability was likely that there would be less surveillance and if he found out where the connection was coming from he would easily disconnect all the other sources of surveillance. If not all then most of those. He needed everything to be well organized.
The moment he reached the terrace a load of old and happy memories attacked his senses, some of which involved both Nihal and Ekansh. He shook his head to get rid of those memories and kept searching for the connection of the surveillance. But what surprised him was that there was none. The terrace was free of any kind of surveillance. Ofcourse, why would he need so much security when he was so certain about the disappearances of his major threats.
"You never grew up, Ansh." Danuj shook his head. He hid behind the row of tanks. It was dark like hell. He couldn't even use the torch of his cell phone, couldn't take the chance of risking her safety. He knew his sudden exposure would lead to immense chaos. Although he didn't care anymore, but he couldn't take the risk of throwing her into that situation.
However, when he looked beside him he knew he needed no light at all. Some 100 meters away stood another huge mansion. The green garden in between separated the two.
There, on the huge open balcony was sitting a group of people, surrounding a huge wooden table. They were seemingly having their dinner. He knew every one of them specifically the one sitting right beside his brother. Vasudha.
The balcony was beautifully decorated with lights and candles. Green vines naturally decorated the glass made shade above them. The couches looked comfortable as well. The cold breeze was playing with her hair. The strands of her hair were flying everywhere and then he saw it. He saw his brother inclining towards her hair, eyes closed. His whole body was getting overpowered by the carnal urge of punching him to death.
She however, oblivious to the situation, kept talking to the curly haired girl he remembered as Zoya. She seemed okay, perhaps happy. She was eating with her spoon....
Wait, spoon? Vasudha?
No,she always ate with her hand. She was never comfortable with spoon. Then why was she....?
She wasn't eating and no one noticed. He tried to look better at her plate. She kept playing with the food, sometimes bringing the spoon close to her mouth and then placing it back to the plate without eating or feeding Zoya instead of eating herself. What was she doing?
"Why isn't she eating?" He thought to himself. Ekansh was saying something to which she nodded and the very moment he was about to hold her upper arm she abruptly stood up, and left the balcony.
He couldn't understand whether he felt good or bad. Good that Ekansh wouldn't be touching her for now and bad because he couldn't see her anymore. He released a deep breath and started working. He had no time to waste. If need be, he would kidnap her, once again. But this time there would be no mask of papers, no conditions, the agenda would be clear, simple. He needed her, he would have her. No force in this world could stop him.
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Standing infront of the window he brings out the only thing that stayed with him through thick and thin: his cigarette case. He inhales as much as possible, closing his grey eyes. "Vile", that's what she used to call him. She was right though, he himself didn't know he had so much agression, so much possessiveness, so much revenge buried deep within him. Now he knows, vile is what he should be called, VILE IS WHAT HE HAS ALWAYS BEEN.
He throws the filter inside the ashtray and moves towards his cupboard. He pulls out the lowest drawer there and searches through it. Finally his hand pauses when he finds a black bag. He brings that out. His eyes remain fixed at the bag for a few seconds as his jaw clenches. Then he looks ahead drowning deep into his past, the past that became his sole truth.
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"Dadaji, who is this? He looks scary." The small child asked his grandfather, who was sitting beside him. An old man, every hair in his body had turned grey.
"You shouldn't be scared by looking at someone's face darling, that doesn't explain if a person is scary or not. It's inside them, inside their heart. A person can only be ugly from the within." The old man who seemed to be a priest or something, said.
"But don't you remember, chacha told us the story of 'Danuj'. Did he not say all who had gruesome scars over their faces, were his descendants, his followers?" The child asked curiously. The old man laughed at his childish innocence.
"No Ravi, look at that mask, hanging from the tree trunk. Your chacha ji's story also depicts 'Danuj' looking like that. Do you find any horns on this man's head?" The old man asked, smiling. He then adds,
"See beta, even horns can't define a person's true intentions. A man with horns on his head might turn out good when a man looking like a proper gentleman can turn out to be evil. So, you should never judge a book by its cover."
"Then he can be a good man as well?" The child asked walking close to the half conscious and disfigured body of Devansh Sachdev. Obviously the man couldn't recognize him. He found him hanging from a nearly broken branch. But if he fell directly to the ground he certainly would not have survived. But the condition he was already in, the old man was surprised that he was still alive. It was next to impossible to survive such gruesome injuries, he not only had an accident, which was obvious, but he was attacked.
The old man tried to stop the bleeding, with some basic ayurvedic medication, which worked on some of the injuries but took time on the stab injuries in his lower abdomen. What surprised the man was that even after being deadly injured, the boy never had a full unconsciousness. He kept mumbling things, he kept waking up and going back to sleep time to time. He groaned in pain. He cried for someone's loss. The aged man felt bad for the kid, 'he must have gone through some really terrifying situations', he thought to himself.
He treated him till he got back his consciousness. And when he woke up what he said broke the old man's heart into pieces.
"W-why did you save me baba? Why? Do y-you have any medicine that can stop my heart for good? I beg you.... I beg you.... please do something. Kill me. I have nothing to live for, I-I have no one to live for." The boy kept on blabbering.
The old man slowly placed his hand over his bandaged chest and looked at him with a sublime smile.
"You're still alive beta, that means the purpose of your life hasn't come yet. And if you just lost every cause to live, trust me, your being alive means that you're yet to confront the main reason to live for. Have belief on my words. Don't lose hope. You're too young to give up on it."
The boy kept looking at the old man with utter confusion.
"Your injuries need better medical attention. Do you want me to take you to the nearby hospital? I will only do that if you agree." The man suggested. To which the boy simply nodded.
"Would you like to tell me your name?" He asked again. The boy looked at the man as if considering his words.
"You saved my life baba. I would've loved to tell you my name but as you said, I am yet to find the purpose of my life. Till that day, I would like to keep it hidden. However, I do have a name that I heard and liked. How about you call me 'Danuj', just like your grandson did?" He said looking at the old man, who smiled at him in return.
"I was right, you weren't totally unconscious. Don't take his words seriously. He is just a kid, gets lost in the fairy tales he is being told every night." The man replied.
"But I relate to the story, I relate to your explanation of it. I would like to take that as my name, my new name, my new identity. But when the time comes, I'll come to you, to tell you who I really was."
That night Devansh became Danuj.
When he was about to leave with the old man, for a nearby hospital the old man handed him a parting gift.
"This will remind you to stay strong and wait for the right reason to come. Keep it safe. Keep yourself safe." The man said.
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Danuj looks at the black bag one last time before bringing out the parting gift, a reminder of his journey.
The silver mask has two silver horns, and a horrible, frightening face. A face that the common eyes define as a Demon, a Danuj.
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Love, Puja. 🍁