Hysteria's Call, Part 3

Okay, the much awaited part 3 of Hysteria's Call.

The grand finale of the entire story will be centred around this instalment thus explaning its lenghty content and elaboration but trust me, it'll leave you thinking for sure as it has left me.

Alright then, with that said, enjoy the narrative and provide me with valuable feedback as you deem fit!


“...The door to the room creaked to life and gave the man a good hard jolt back into reality.

“I was thinking if you’d like some wine to accompany you while you wa...”

Another silence ensured and all was still once again.

A huge clash followed and everything blurred out of focus for quite some time, seemingly.

...

The man regained his composure and looked around. The entire room was in an utter mess and cold wind was blowing in, through a crack made in one of the window panes.

What the hell happened here, the man questioned himself, largely taken aback at his surroundings where plates and cutlery lay all round the place, much less of their former elegance, in tattered pieces while chairs where uplifted and overturned.

So much to the extent that the man was even surprised that the table was still intact. He was even more surprised to find himself down on his knees, apparently in a braced position, ducking and avoiding the entire ruckus.

He had little memory of what happened a few moments back and everything to him materialised itself in a blur.

Someone must have tried to shoot me, or something, he concluded.

Cold wind blew at the man’s back, revealing the broken window pane and this prompted the man to stand up and gain a better understanding of his surroundings. He dusked away the glass chips that gathered both on his suit as well as on his straightened business styled pants. He didn’t pay much attention to his hair, however, though it was wildly displaced at this point of time, as if someone or something had tried to dismember part of his skull.

This was also when he realised that a splitting headache had formulated and was throbbing dully by his temples, in unison to the rhythm of the rain outside, which ensured a steady stream of ice cold air circulating the room.

Damn this headache and the damn rain, where the heck is she, the man furious now, with fists on the chaos ridden mess, amongst the remains of the table.

A gust of wind howled just as if on cue and the man shivered down to his gut, as a fresh new gust of wind froze the air in the room, as if sending out a message to the man.

Evidently, the other people in the restaurant had heard the noises coming from upstairs (the room was on the second level of the restaurant), and not long, footsteps echoed in the hallway and voices of urgency signalled the arrival of the restaurant crew.

The man was one part relieved that help was on the way, but also furious to get some answers out of the employees of the restaurant. However, something made him look down at his shoes for he felt contact.

He gasped at what he saw.

There it was, a steady stream of blood flowing from...

The man’s heart skipped twice over as he traced the origin of that stream of blood.

There at the doorway to the room lay another man, smartly clad in white overalls which waiters in the restaurant usually dawned. The only difference was that his top was dyed a violent blood red which dripped all over his overalls and fresh blood was flowing even as the man looked on.

What the... the man could only mouth those words silently as his eyes made his way to the source of blood and the wound.

It was a gruesome sight.

A metallic object, which the man vaguely made out as a fork, was pierced and speared into the face of the waiter and blood was oozing out from which the fork made contact. The waiter was motionlessly facing upwards save the fact that blood was still flowing steadily.

The man almost belched at what he’s seen but another thought replaced the picture before him and fear began to instil itself in the man’s mind.

Out of a sudden spur of adrenaline, the man lunged himself out of the nearest window and out into the cold rain that raged from above.

That feeling of intensity within him was so extreme that he let out a cry of ecstasy as he flew out of the room and landed on a patch of soft, wet grass, behind the cafe where he dined.

With his suit already wet and his hair obviously nowhere near his standard of perfection, the man deserted his usual thought of tidying up and helped himself up, oblivious to the shouts that crept through the sound of the rain, from the cafe.

Without even looking back, the man gathered himself and ran, as fast as he could, as if something was hot in pursuit right behind him.

The cafe faded from view and the rain intensified to an impossible state, as if attempting to mask the man’s presence from the very thing that hunted him down.

-

“Good lord, Sir! You’re utterly soaked” the man’s chief butler remarked before sending the servants of the man’s residence to fetch towels and whatever they can to make their master warm and out of the rain.

The man arrived at his residence panting deeply and feeling immensely cold, due to the savage rain. Upon reception with his waiters however, he totally disregarded them and stormed all the way to his room, clearly uninterested in the towels, hot chocolate or biscuits being offered to make him feel better after running through the rain.

Bloody servants, he muttered before ascending the incredible flight of stairs that led to the place where he felt safest.

His house was huge and it took him quite awhile before reaching the massive doors that barricaded his comfort zone from the rest of the world and with another great deal of effort the man pushed with what strength he has left and stepped into the room. The door had never been heavier.

The man stripped off his soaked clothes as soon as the massive doors closed upon him, and prepared himself for a hot, long shower in the bathroom.

He glanced into the mirror that framed the bathroom and thought to himself about what had just happened.

Something’s not right, the man concluded.

He soon pulled himself away from the mirror and proceeded to start the shower.

There was a rap on the door to his room as soon as he turned the tap on.

There it goes again. The man turned the tap back off and fumbled for some clothes, with a slight tint of fear and a strange rush of excitement at the same time; no one has ever knocked on his doors nor intruded his room, not even his servants, they would usually call him on the intercom.

Its here to kill me, the man’s eyes wide and his thoughts running wild in his mind. He then ran over to his bedside drawer where he kept a revolver, which was always loaded. The man believed that it “never hurts to be safe than sorry” and he thanked himself for that given the current situation.

The knocking continued and with each rap of the door, the man’s heartbeat grew increasingly faster.

Step by step, he crept up to the door, literally on tiptoes as the knocking grew louder and more desperate sounding.

Let just get this over and done with, the man now sweating with trembling hands over the revolver, ready to pull the trigger anytime.

The knocking stopped and again, the rain seemingly stopped for the second time tonight and all was a still picture.

The door swung open and gunshots echoed the huge residential area where the man resided.

-

The revolver fell to the ground with a dull thud.

The man himself slumped in a corner on the ground, a rare sight for a man of his character, personality and position in life.

He sat beside a pool of blood though it wasn’t his and stared down at what he’s done.

There on the stone hard marble encrusted floor lay the chief butler face down in his own pool of blood motionless. A tray of cookies lay beside him, sprawled out as well as a mug of hot chocolate, in pieces all over the place with drips of chocolate lining the floor along with a red liquid that oozed from his body.

What... have I done, the man buried his hands into his wet hair and tugged at it, enhancing the pain from the headache as well as the pain of ripping out his own hair.

“So it was me, myself, all along.”

The hair, the cafe, the waiter and now the chief butler, it all fell into place one by one like a jigsaw puzzle. There was no assassin, there was no attacker, there was nobody wanting to kill the man, but everything sprouted from within him.

“WHERE IS SHE?” with rage in his voice as well as insanity, the man screamed his lungs out.

She has been the cause of the man’s rise to insanity, she has been the source of it all, she has been the one who caused all this, she... the man, unable to control himself released a torrent of rage and pumped his fist on the floor.

Indeed, the man was driven to insanity and everything he had would be drawn to naught. In the morning, the media would have already gotten news of the killing at the cafe which would point to the man, which will in turn, spawn further controversy. The chambermaid would also discover the lifeless corpse of the chief butler when she does her routine in the morning, thus concluding the murderer.

The man’s life was over and even as he stood on the ledge to his balcony, he thought of the cause of it all, the women that he was supposed to meet earlier on, the one that stood him up and most importantly, the only one he truly loved...

The man’s cell phone buzzed from within his wet pair of pants which he stripped off earlier on. The ringing soon stopped but a text message was received.

“Sorry Richard, I can’t make it tonight for the dinner due to the heavy rain and it was because of that, I couldn’t get to you all night. Sorry! I’ll give you a call when I’m safely home, don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I miss you, love!”

Of course dear Richard wasn’t there to read the message. In fact, he wasn’t anywhere at all. She never got to hear from him ever again, and he was never to be seen ever again.

But scribbled right on his bed was a note which read, “I won’t wait for you anymore” in a red ink, possibly blood.

The man never lived nor died."

-END-

With that, this narrative comes to a close and as I've mentioned, I'm open to feedback and comments to this series.

I will also be doing a followup post on the various themes I considered for this narrative as well as some references and influences I've drawn for this narrative.

Till then, keep a look out for metallic-stains and check back soon for updates.

Cya'll later.