Room 409

The body made Anirban shiver with fear.

It was lying just near the window – the curtains were dancing lazily, its glass was shattered and lying around with spots of blood here and there, and right at its center the man was lying. His face was expressionless – his dark blue shirt stained magenta by the red fluid…

Inspector Anirban Sen had been appointed by the Hatibagan police to investigate and find out the truth of the unexplained murder and disappearance of seven people of Room 409, located on the 4^th floor of the hotel ‘Calcutta 34’. There has been recently a lot of controversy about the room – the seven people who had entered in it were found dead the next day, exactly at the same place where Anirban now saw the body. The police are suspecting an unknown assassin who was mercilessly shooting the hearts out of the inmates in the darkness, but so far, no firm theory has been made – there was no motive either. Meanwhile, the hotel staff were literally at their wits’ end – they didn’t know what to answer – and the media was taking it to an even higher level. They were painting it with such bright colours that the TRPs were blazing hot, and the police department were getting a black-and-white filter over all of this ruckus…

Anirban now rolled his eyes around the room. He had already seen a picture of it from the police files – there was a black couch right next to the window, which had a small tea-table in front of it. A television – now only showing static – was sitting right next to the cupboard which was empty. The bed was covered with white sheets and right next to it was a night lamp – it’s blue light now flickering a bit, casting a spooky shadow on the floor. Anirban flinched at it. Even though it was bright daylight outside – it was still dark inside room 409.

The inspector now moved towards the crime scene. Minding the body, his eyes got fixed at the shattered window. A huge crack had appeared at its middle. Apparently, the assassin – or whoever the person was – had shot right at the moment when the inmate was standing next to it, and then the body behind the window had crashed onto-

‘Fix it.’

Anirban suddenly turned his head. A voice had come out all of a sudden.

It was cold, and full of dread – as if it had come up from the very pits-

‘FIX IT!’ the voice echoed out again. 

It was a hot May morning, but Anirban shivered up as if he had faced the first winds of November. He was a scaredy-cat by nature – he knew it very well. Yet…

(how did i land up over here?)

Anirban now walked slowly towards the cupboard. There was nothing over there, save for the customary steel hangers which lay lazily hanging over there. He searched the drawers, the interior, but found nothing which would lead him any further into the case.

He checked the bedside table and its drawers. He even checked the back of the TV and the couch and the tea-table – but there was nothing over there.

No lead. No clue whatsoever.

He now sat gently on the bed. There was nothing to work upon – just a body covered by glass shards and blood and a shattered window and an unknown criminal-

‘Fix IT!’

The voice came in once again. It was colder and even more dreadful than ever.

Anirban could feel his spine tingling with fear. Where was that voice coming from?

All of a sudden, the room seemed to be darker and colder. Anirban felt it - as if…

As if someone else was there…something or someone was following him, a shadow…

He stood up firmly. What was he doing? He had been given a task to find out the real reasons of these murders, and here he was – shivering like a wet scaredy-cat!

He lit up a cigarette. While giving off two rings, he began to think about it,

‘The room is empty – nothing in the cupboard nor the bedside table. Neither the TV nor the couch. So, the man didn’t bring anything. The previous night he was standing right next to the window overlooking the road and then…and then…’

He took another smoke and gave off another ring –

‘…at this time probably, the murderer was standing in the balcony of one of the houses…whoever it was, he used a rifle – it has to be one, you can’t get a long distance kill with a pistol or a revolver, let alone a derringer. The man got shot through his heart, and then fell down on the floor, glass shattering and falling…’

‘But the question is: How did the murder occur? Who did it? What is the motive?’

For five minutes straight Anirban thought about it as he stared at the now-static television. There had to be a man, there had to be a method, there had to be a motive…

There had to be a man, had to be a method, should have a motive…

(man method motive man method motive)

He must have micro-dozed off a bit while being surrounded by these questions. A knock on the door suddenly made him rise from his reverie.

‘Who is it?’ Anirban asked. As far as he could remember he had told the manager to strictly not let anyone enter the room…

There was no reply from the other side.

The knocking came in again a second time.

Anirban now turned around, confused at what to do – and that was when his eyes caught something different.

Room 409 looked the same, except there was now a white sheet covering some rectangular slab. That’s strange, thought Anirban, for he had not seen that thing in the room before. Where did that…

‘ANSWER THE DOOR!’

That cold voice echoed around him again. Anirban felt that shiver again freezing him.

Oh God, how much icy and dreadful a voice can be?

His eyes were still fixed on that rectangular slab covered by the white sheet when the third knock came in.

Trembling, he asked again, ‘W-who’s there?’

There was still no response. A fourth knock came in now.

Anirban now moved towards the door – the suspense was too much for him.

He then stopped. He was running out of breath. The room was becoming colder all of a sudden…

Hesitating for a few seconds, he pulled open the door.

And gasped.

A young man was standing before him. His eyes were expressionless, and he was wearing a dark blue shirt – stained magenta by something red which was spilling out from...his chest?

Anirban’s sixth sense told him that something was not right. He had seen the face before somewhere, but…

Immediately his eyes turned to where the body was laid, and gave out a silent scream.

The man who was standing outside was exactly the same person who lay murdered beside the shattered window!

‘But, but how can-’ the words got stuck in Anirban’s throat. It was impossible – the man had been dead for 24 hours now – shot dead! 

He was dead!

(HE IS DEAD FOR GOD’S SAKE!)

The inspector felt that unseen force again, covering him in a cold sweat. The visitor stood there, motionless, and staring right into the room. His eyes looked like something out of a creepy porcelain doll…

Suddenly, a cold gust of wind - out of nowhere - blew into the room and shook the curtains. The white sheet covering the slab came off.

Anirban turned towards it. It was a mirror, alright.

But who was it that was standing before it?

‘A-AHH!’

Inspector Anirban Sen gave off a terrified scream as he saw that somehow – by some ghastly and terrible coincidence, his face had changed…had changed to the man who was lying right next to him…his face had changed to the young man who was standing outside the room right now! But how can it be? What the hell was going…

A high cold laugh suddenly rose in the room. The lights went off, and as he backed away slowly from the mirror, something metallic hit Anirban’s chest very hard. With a loud thump, he fell down to the floor – blood was spilling out from his heart, staining his khaki clothes and the floor beneath. As his eyes closed in the darkness, he saw two things – one, the face of the man outside was now twisted into demonic smile..

Two, the body of the man – who was wearing a dark-blue shirt stained magenta by the red fluid called ‘blood’ and was lying next to the black curtain draped shattered window – had disappeared.

Completely vanished in the darkness…

--

When the police arrived that evening, they were too late.

Room 409 had claimed its eighth victim – 35-year old Inspector Anirban Sen of the Hatibagan branch…

***

M.Macabre

10.10.2021