Caged Read online

  I hated myself for doing that. ‘I don’t need him,’ I told myself again and again and again and in an attempt to distract myself I picked up the DVD and put it in the player and switched it on. It was the American TV series Lost. I had heard about it; someone had told me it’s like The Walking Dead and I hated The Walking Dead so didn’t want to watch it.

  But then I thought anything is better than thinking about him. Anything. Literally. I started watching it from the very beginning and actually got lost in it. It was about a group of people who survive a plane wreck and are forced to live on a mysterious island, and there is no help coming for them. Sometimes I was totally drowned in the drama; I was on the island. The rain was still pattering like hell which made me lose my concentration time and again.

  And I started weaving my own story, what would I have done if I were there? Who would I make friends with? What would I eat? I liked the Korean guy for some reason. Though rationally speaking he wasn’t very likable; he was very conservative and domineering over his wife. But something about him touched me. I couldn’t tell what.

  And the door swung open again as it was time for dinner. My stomach automatically started growling at the sight of Alba. She noticed the TV and gave me an appreciative smile. Like she approved of me, accepted me. I couldn’t know what she had in mind. She never spoke. As if the only language she knew was of smiles. But at that moment I didn’t like Alba, she seemed to be on his side, I thought she wanted me to give in and be happy with him. She might have good intentions, but I didn’t like that smile. So I didn’t ask for hot chocolate either. Who knows if she would have understood my demand anyway.

  I started slurping the soup she had got and didn’t let her take away the porridge from lunch. What if I get hungry again? I had weird fears now, starving to death adding itself to the list. Then I noticed a hot thermos flask after she’d gone. I opened it and was glad to see some coffee. I never got coffee at this hour even when I slept late… It must have something to do with the weather I guessed.

  While enjoying my meal, I dreaded his arrival. It will be eight soon, and he’ll be here, and then I pushed that thought out of my mind. After eating, I continued watching the TV. I was addicted now. I wanted to know what would happen next. I wanted to know everything like my life depended on it.

  Episode after episode I kept watching, and suddenly I realized it was 10:40 and he was still not here. I wasn’t waiting for him, but I noticed his absence and was worried in a way. I didn’t want him here, but my mind kept wandering as to where he was.

  I had watched eleven episodes of the show by now, and my eyes were in desperate need of rest. I went to the washroom and was again headed to the bed when I heard a sound. A groan. I could feel the pain in that voice but where was it coming from? Such a soft sound can only be heard if someone is close. Very close. And technically there shouldn’t be anyone this close to me. The kitchen, living room, and all other rooms were downstairs. This floor was just for me. I started walking aimlessly around the room, and the voices began to wrap my mind. It was like the rain now. It wouldn’t leave me alone. I observed that the sound was clearer when I was closer to the library door. That door was always locked, but not today.

  I was so used to seeing that door locked, that today I didn’t even notice that it was unlocked. I always wanted to go in there, but today, it creeped me out. I didn’t know what to do, what if Daniel was in there? He could have been hiding inside since morning, wanting to catch me opening this door. What if there is a monster luring me inside to kill me? And many such thoughts came and went, but one thought, one idea lingered. The other guy, the hostage, he is in there I thought and even after so much effort, I couldn’t shove that thought away.

  I knew there was no way he could be in the library; I never saw anyone bringing him here. But there could be another way to get in. Another door. I had to find out what was in there; it would kill me otherwise. I needed closure. In the TV show I had watched, two guys had found a mysterious hatch. And I could feel how they must’ve felt to be lured by something that is so inviting and so potentially dangerous. How many times they must’ve wanted to open it and how many times they wanted to run away. Just like I was feeling right now. Even though my situation was entirely different, I wanted them to be on my side and encourage me to open the door. I opened it.

  It was just like any small library, a square room with two huge shelves on the front and the left wall. And apparently, there was no one here. There were lots of books, some classic literature, some business and self-help books in English and some in French. And it struck me that Daniel is French, his mother is a French woman and his father, Indian. And yet again that groan. From where I didn’t know. But it was louder here, and I could see no one.

  I wanted to run back into the room and lock the library door. I thought there might be a ghost here. But even if it was here it can quickly follow me to the room, so there was no point of running now. It was already too late. I thought I was probably trapped when I saw a window on the right wall. A faint hope glimmered in my heart. What if this window opens, what if it’s not sealed from outside like the windows in the room? Probably that is why he keeps this place locked.

  Either he wanted to deprive me of fresh air or prevent me from committing suicide. Whatever the reason, he made sure that the windows in the room were sealed shut and that the glass was unbreakable. I had tried all sorts of things in my initial days here, so I know some stuff.

  And I was right, this window opened. But there was no sun or light or fresh air welcoming me, it was a gush of wind and water that pushed me inside, I tripped on something and almost sprained my foot. I rushed to close the window; I did not like the water or air, however natural it was. Nature wasn’t agreeing with me now.

  And my eyes fell on a valve on the front wall behind the shelf just like the one I saw in a water tank back home. It had been concealed with something which I guessed the wind blew away.

  Now I was more than scared. But curiosity didn’t let go of me either. I was scared and curious. In horror movies, when the heroine hears sounds and goes looking for the ghost with a little torch in hand yelling ‘Who’s there?’ That’s how I felt.

  I turned the valve to my right, and the wall opened up; literally opened up. There was enough space for me to squeeze against the shelf and get in.

  I wasn’t sure if it was real. I could be hallucinating after all that I’ve been through. I had a habit back in time to google everything I heard or thought about. I wanted to google hallucinations badly right now. But obviously, I had no access to the internet. I was only left with my wild imagination. I tried to focus on what was coming and not declare myself crazy already. Calling me crazy is not my job, right?

  I entered into what I like to call ‘oblivion’. It was like a dark passage, and I heard the rain louder here. This seemed to be a fragment of hell, my own personal hell, and this passage was exactly like my life, hollow and dark. I was walking straight and didn’t understand where I was going. I could easily have been sleepwalking, because never before had I experienced anything like this in real life

  Today the 2nd of July 2016, Saturday was a day full of surprises starting from the DVD. Then him not coming, his necklace lying in bed, the extra coffee, the door left unlocked, the window, the valve and now this, whatever this is.

  And that soft groan again. This was real. I could feel it in my bones. I walked to and fro the passage to find out where the voice was louder and clearer, and I found a spot, and there was a window, a rusted iron window, and I jumped inside that window in the blink of an eye. For all, I know it could have been a spot for an elevator. I could have fallen into the darkness breaking myself into two. There wouldn’t be any ground under my foot, but fortunately, there was. And I stepped down alright. I wished I had a little torch or phone light so I could see where I was going.

  I stumbled on something; it was an empty beer can, so someone definitely came here. It stank and made me want to hurl. But I c
ouldn’t get distracted by such a little thing. It’s an empty old beer can, not Dracula. And then I tripped on another beer can supposedly and I suddenly started to roll down a set of stairs.

  I was Alice in Scaryland. No beautiful rabbit with a watch, but a haunting voice of a tortured soul. It was him; it had to be him, the other hostage. I wanted to see him since I heard him scream for the first time. The voice was getting clearer. The sharp pain in my body was nothing compared to what I felt in my mind. I could feel his pain, his agony without him saying a word. I wanted to help him, even if my body was twisting in pain.

  What happened next is a little embarrassing, and less brave of me. This time, I stepped upon what I think was a fat mouse, and it was suddenly the scariest thing in my life… I could picture the whole place crawling with mice and had a feeling that if I stepped down another step, they'd strangle me to death. A stinking death. Another odd fear. So I ran back upstairs this time without stepping or tripping over anything and closed the freaking door.

  I lay on the bed shutting my eyes as firmly as I could. And another thought crossed my mind. The Korean guy is like Daniel. His expressionless face, and overprotective behavior. Always trying to keep his wife down and control her. I was looking for Daniel in him. It was a repulsive feeling. It was hard to grasp that I was still in love with him and cursing myself for it, I fell asleep.

  Chapter 3

  Thunder woke me at around three o’clock in the afternoon. There was no sign of Daniel, no food on the table either. And this shook me more than it should have. I felt abandoned. And hungry. And alone. This had never happened before. Tons of weird theories started taking shape in front of me. Daniel was undoubtedly a criminal, and he could have fled in fear of police or some other gang and had left me behind to avoid any inconvenience. Or someone could’ve killed him.

  Maybe he was just done with me and abstained to keep up with the routine torture and trouble-making, looking for something or rather someone new. Before I could comprehend any of those theories, I heard the rain again incessantly hammering the roof.

  It was doing a commendable job of scaring me to the core. Even mocking me, ‘You’re all alone now’ and those sorts of things. I had to save myself from the horror before it petrified me, so I turned on the TV, continuing Lost from episode twelve onwards. After a few episodes, my stomach was growling like hell. The basic physical need for food was subjugating the need for protection and safety.

  I tried opening the door, but it had a code. There was no way I could open it. I was starving and didn’t know what to do or where to go. I went to the window. From this side of the house, all I could see were mountains and a small road. The driveway and the main door were on the opposite side of the house. So even if I kept waving in the window, it was unlikely that anyone would see me and come and help.

  That small road I noted was covered in a layer of snow. It must have snowed last night. The servants couldn’t have come due to the snow. And Daniel too. He might be stuck somewhere. All this could just be a little nuisance that threw us off schedule.

  I then walked back to the bed and watched eight episodes at a stretch. The two guys I said earlier who found a mysterious hatch, John and Boone, they were trying to open it but couldn’t. That hatch reminded me of my little adventure last night and I totally wanted to go in there. But again I was more scared than ever. It was almost 10 pm. It must be so dark down there.

  I finally decided that I’d go. I’m not perfectly and entirely safe up here anyway. I followed all the steps correctly and the thought of having an emergency light or phone light kept tugging at me all the while. This time, I carefully stepped down the stairs. Four sets of stairs. I thanked God when I realized there were no more. It was too much exercise on an empty stomach. I didn’t even know when I’d smell food again.

  Even though I had spent the whole day in my worries and insecurities, I marked that I hadn’t heard a single voice here today. And even when I was down there I couldn’t hear anything, so I thought maybe I just imagined it before. All I could see was darkness, so stark and black that I couldn’t make out anything at all. I kept walking casually, and then I bumped into a chair and finally heard the voice I had been aching to hear.

  “Who’s there?”

  It was a dark as well as low pitched voice. I don’t know why I said dark; maybe it was just the darkness all around that made it sound dark, but there was something very unnatural about it. Mixed with the silence in the room, it sounded very scary and horrifying.

  “It’s me,” I whispered. How idiotic that must have sounded to him. He was a total stranger and had no idea who the hell I was. But my current state wasn’t helping me stay sane and diplomatic so that I couldn’t blame myself. And I didn’t worry about it much. I simply laid down a string of questions for him. “Who are you and why are you here? Are you being tortured? What for? Did Daniel get you here?”

  My eyes started to adjust to the darkness, and I figured out that he was tied to a chair with iron chains. And God they were huge; huge enough to tie a dinosaur. If it were me in those chains, I would’ve died in a couple of hours. The whole idea of being scared was actually getting materialized now. This is what being truly scared feels like, I told myself.

  “I asked first,” he said casually. I was expecting him to reply and yet his voice jolted me. I didn’t understand immediately what he meant by ‘I asked first,’ I had almost forgotten his question. It was the side-effect of hunger. But when I started to get canny and join in the conversation, I conceived that a person in that state should be as terrified as I was to see someone. But instead, he was calm and composed. He even looked comfortable there.

  “I live here. I mean I’m being kept here against my will. Just like you,” I said softly. I had to somehow start a conversation with him. Why exactly? I didn’t know yet.

  At this point, I was standing right in front of him at a 180-degree angle. He kept checking me out from head to toe and finally said in his deep guttural voice, “You look like a harmless little kitten, a simple human being. Why did he keep you here?”

  Okay, he called me a simple human being, does that make him, not a simple human being? I had to put all the heart I had to continue this conversation casually.

  “Yeah, and you must turn into a dragon when you’re angry. Right?” I laughed a little trying to keep fear away from my voice. He laughed at my words too. What a genuine and pure laugh it was. That’s the way my dad used to laugh.

  Again and again, I was giving in to distractions which I hated, and it was getting harder keeping track of everything that was happening. “No, I don’t turn into anything; he has kept me here because I don’t burn by fire,” he replied politely.

  I was confused. I didn’t know what to say, but he continued. “He said he saw me saving a girl from a burning house and since I didn’t even get a blister, he was suspicious and got me here and wants to know my fucking secret.”

  It again took a little while for me to process all that. Daniel had got him here because he thought this man couldn’t be burned by fire. If he had done that, it must be true; he wouldn’t do such a big thing on a mere suspicion. No one would. I didn’t want to let him know that I was afraid… So I tried again to talk to him in a cool way.

  “So you’re like Daenerys Targaryen. Huh?” I giggled.

  “Sorry, what’s that?”

  All right so he didn’t know Daenerys, he didn’t watch Game of Thrones. Not that it mattered, but I had one less thing to talk to him about.

  “I was talking about a TV show ‘Games of Thrones’ which you apparently don’t watch,” I said.

  “Game of Thrones huh? My grandma watches that shit; crazy old woman.”

  “Who else is in your family? I mean except your grandma?” Again, I didn’t know where that came from. What did I care about his family?

  “Grandpa. Mom and Dad died when I was little. Yours?”

  “Mom, Dad and a little sister,” a tear formed in the corner of my eye an
d I immediately changed the subject, “so you really don’t get burned?”

  “Yeah, and my wounds get healed immediately. This guy keeps kicking my ass, and I keep healing in front of his dazzled eyes. Son of a bitch.”

  He was probably a vampire because vampires get healed immediately but they also get burned by fire which he didn’t. He was like Wolverine then. I could bet he didn’t even know about Wolverine, so there was no point bringing that up.

  There was a long silence. I mean he should understand that this is too much to take for a ‘simple human being.’ I had seen this kind of stuff on TV and in movies but never for real.

  My thoughts circulated his superhuman body, his life, and the way it all worked. I was trying to figure out what he actually was when he broke the silence.

  “What’s your name girl?”

  And this changed everything. I was angry and confused, and I even wanted to cry, but as I had decided before, I didn’t want to show him my weakness, so I said angrily “Why would I tell you?”

  Without another look, I shot back to the stairs. I kept running upstairs and closed all windows and doors and finally the library door too.

  In the comfort of my own room, I started crying out loud. Choking and shrieking. And the door unlocked. Daniel was there standing in the doorway. I didn’t turn towards him and continued my sobs. I didn’t care if he was there. I wasn’t strong enough to hide my weakness from him anymore, and in an instant he was kneeling in front of me, his eyes meeting mine.

  “What happened honey? What’s wrong with you?” he kept on repeating, and I jerked him back angrily.

  “What is my name?” I yelled with the strength I didn’t know I had.

  “Oh my God. Is that what you’re worried about Norah?”