The Stranger

It was an odd summer night, for there was a cool breeze in the air and on the barren plains. It was almost a pleasure waiting on the platform after another hard summer day’s toil. Unfortunately, she did not have to wait long, as the train arrived soon; and once inside, she took a deep breath of the controlled environment that she was so used to now. Five stops home, she thought, as she took a seat on the midnight train- the last one for the night.

As she sat there in the near empty carriage, looking at the few and comprehending their lifestyles and behavior, the train pulled to a slow halt at the next stop. It was going to be as eventless as any other night, she thought, as she stole a glance at the doors for a familiar face.

The couple entered, mindless of her presence, or anybody else’s. They seemed to be lost in a mild conversation, or perhaps an argument, she could not really say. Her steady gaze on the door and the man amongst the two, shifted to her lap as casually as it could. She would look up occasionally at them, or maybe just at him, and slowly let her eyes settle back to her lap, and then to her phone, that she now seemed to fiddle with, restlessly.

As another stop breezed by, she could not really wait to get back home, to the comforts of her lonely bed. As she gathered the courage to steal another look, she could sense him behave nearly in the same way as her. For a brief moment, and in that, it was the shortest of time spans that you could barely measure or name, their eyes met, and then fled back to a different interest. She was confused whether to smile at this exchange or withhold any such feeling.

The train seemed to have slowed down as time refused to budge, to make the journey of two stops longer than it was. She tried to take her mind off of him and looked around for familiar faces. She was not really hopeful, but she did crave some company at the moment. There was not a comforting face in that thin crowd, let alone a familiar one. She could sense, or maybe she just seemed to think that he was just as curious and uncomfortable.

As the train arrived at her destination, she hurried to the door, and stepped out in a great hurry much before the doors fully opened. The calming breeze had now no effect on her. She got to the exit perspiring and not stopping or looking back. She hoped the bus that took her home from there would be at the stop, ready to leave as she got there. But luck had decided not to smile on her that night. As she waited at the stop, she saw the couple emerge from the station, and head towards her. She could sense through the darkness that they were looking at her and speaking animatedly. She decided not to wait for the bus, and turned on her heels to walk home.

It was a strange encounter, this, but barely an encounter with a stranger. Despite how they acted, they were no strangers to each other. Having known each other for years now, and until a month ago, they couldn’t bring themselves to acknowledge each other’s presence. In a world full of strangers, adding someone known to that list was a strange experience indeed.

Growing up

It had happened before. In fact, it has been happening all his life. Some people call it growing up and are awed by the miracle of this constant transformation. He plainly didn’t get it, or their apparent hypocrisy. Who in their sane minds would want to let go of a beautiful thing, for something so strange, the unknown, that only time would reveal, just a tad bit late.

It started even before his eyes had seen light. A mere egg and sperm had created life and set the wheels in motion. When he was fully formed, which now seemed a bitter joke, he was brought into this world, to face the vagaries outside the warmth and comfort of the womb.

Gradually, his limbs became stronger and he could move. It used to be easier and more enjoyable when people around him would do his bidding. Now they cheered for him to get up and take his first steps; people and their demands, he had to put in effort. In a year, they needed more than a pointed finger and a high pitched mumble. He had to learn to control his tongue and his wind pipe, to make strange sounds, which he later learnt, that only a part of the world’s population would understand. All his endeavors in learning and modulating his body, and there was more to come.

Eventually, he would start growing bigger; his body would grow out of clothes and his feet out of the shoes within weeks. He loved those clothes, and those shoes; but he couldn’t use them anymore. He would start losing his teeth and new ones would take their place - crooked and painful. Soon he would need braces to fix them. Nature was not the only force in his transformation; cosmetology and conformity were as much a part.

After several years of small transformations, he would wonder why he didn’t come with a manual. Now he had started noticing drastic changes. Some parts of his body seemed to grow plump. The distribution of hair on his body had changed so much. It was not just physiological, mind you. He now craved for new toys, the ones he had no interest in before. He craved attention and attraction from people whose existence he had once barely acknowledged. His thoughts and ideas would change; it was confusing, the pressure, the identity, and opinions, which would just hang in the air.

“When will this change ever stop?” he would ask himself. But he knew better. Once he had been a baby, an adolescent, even a teenager. In his middle age now, he knew that his body and mind would never stop changing. In fact, he had only seen what growing up was. He prepared himself for wearing down- another transformation they hadn’t warned him about.

Mind Games

“The crime rate in the city has increased manifold. … A 45 year old was hacked to death as she tried to fight the chain snatchers. … The identity of the girl has not been established yet. We suspect rape but the forensics say otherwise. … The body of a toddler was found rotting in the drainage”
“What has the world come to?”, he wondered as he sipped his latte and waited for her. He took a peep through the paper again, just to make sure that he doesn’t miss her. “I can’t decide whether it is the sensational press or the world has turned diabolical” he sighed. There was not an article devoid of gore. Even page three was riddled with stories of hate and conspiracies.

“Ah, there she is now.” It was unusual of her to be that late. She was evidently upset. “Ah, she must have heard about the waitress!” he assumed, recalling the recent tragedy someone she was close to had succumbed. “Let me give her some space”, he thought as he dug into reading the rest of the paper. The crap did not really interest him on the first morning of a beautiful spring. But then again, he had nothing much to do for that moment; he had to wait.

She lay there in his arms. She should have been easy pickings for a womanizer of his caliber. The month long endeavor of trysts and rejections to get her did not justify his repute. It had changed him. He had, surprisingly, fallen for her; head over heels. The time pursuing her made him realize; being with her trumped all ecstasy in his many lustful conquests. He rarely pursued women for sexual fancies, but he had made a habit of achieving it with every woman that caught his fancy. This girl was different. She had opened his heart to possibilities beyond the act.

He met her on the campus. She worked at the cafeteria for some pocket change. He already knew her as the brain behind the new electronic buzz on the campus. The student research assistant literally drove the project that her advisers were taking credit for. There were already talks of international acclaim and patents. However, she was not the Greek goddess that one would fall in love with easily. Her charms were restricted to her occasional smile and glee in her eye. Her vulnerability made her an easy target for predators like him. Besides, she was the ‘Helen of Troy’ for him, considering his desire for the intelligent woman.

“So, Can I take you out for coffee sometime?” he asked. His charm would have worked on most ladies.
“Sorry, but I’ve got all the coffee I need in here” she smiled as she retracted to her workstation.
“How about dinner then? You got to eat sometime.” He had a plan; a process, evolved over years of practice, to woo women. It never failed.
“No, I can’t. I’m too busy to go out on dates right now.”

She was not the easiest prey after all. He smiled as he moved her mop of hair over her face. She had blue eyes, deep as oceans. They were always concealed behind thick spectacles. Always, except for now. Maybe it was her eyes that he fell for, or was it something else?

She had dismissed his every advance with a polite ‘no’. He would not let her rigid stance dishearten him. He would try again, and again; failure was not known to him. She definitely had a weakness he could exploit. It was Valentine’s Day. He could not go wrong today. The fine folk at the ‘Hogwarts for Geeks’ had decided to celebrate it in the only way they knew. Gaming contests, some spiked punch, a foreign language feature, and a lot of tech talk. She sat at the console playing battleships. She was good at it. He did not have to watch her play to know that. But he did anyway. The guy in the console in front of her gave up and vacated. He had his shot now.

“So here is a wager? If I win, I’ll take you out for dinner. You win, and you’ll not see me again.”
“That’s win-win for me. I’ll miss your annoying presence for sure.” Her sardonic response was an icing on the personality he had come to adore and admire.
“ B5, Submarine DESTROYED. Player 2 wins” the system boomed. Lady luck had been on his side. Or had she lost on purpose? He couldn’t tell; he wouldn’t care to know. He finally had a date tonight and everything else mattered little.

It was a month since. On the last day of winter, he had her lying in his arms. His eyes refused to blink while they gazed into hers. He had changed. She had changed him. He would never want to let go of her. As she came to, there was a sudden panic in her face. He found a guilty child lying on his lap with fear in her eyes. She hurried and dressed up, muttering indiscreet expletives at herself.

“Hey! What happened?”
“No. This is not right. I’ll be expelled. I don’t want to get caught.”
“By whom?”
“The dean. I will be expelled. This should have never happened.”
“The dean?” He was amused. What does the dean have to do with her love life!
“We are lovers. That’s the only way I could get the funding.”, she was ashamed, but she wouldn’t show it. She used all the bows in her quiver to pursue her research, her career. He was no stranger to that. He was astonished how he had not found this in his research. He had never been so careless.
“I am so sorry. Please forgive me. This is a mistake.” She was ready to leave.

He was dazed by the sudden turn of events. He knew his deviance from a higher cause had led him to this misery. The love of a woman had blinded him and he had to save the situation before he was too late.

“Wait.” He said. As she turned around, she was greeted with a slash to her throat with a military knife. He was preparing the chain saw as he watched her lie in a pool of blood. She choked on her own blood and he had to act fast. He used the chain saw to rip the skull apart at her temple. He had to watch the pain in her face. It would not let him forgive her for breaking his heart. It would not let him forget his mistakes and repeat the same. He went through the motions without as much as an emotion on his face.

He plucked the brain out and moved it to the petridish. He opened the door to the alter chamber where the brains of his past victims were stored. The cryogenics cost him a fortune. But research demanded such sacrifices; and more.

“THE CHAINSAW MASOCHIST STRIKES AGAIN- Serial Killer on the prowl after a two month hiatus” he read the headlines again. He was not a serial killer. He was not a psychopath. He was obsessed perhaps. He was the Scientist that would help decipher the human mind. He was the person who would find the genius and replicate it in every human.

He glanced through the paper again at the Dean. She may not be a genius. But her brain was a must for his collection now.

The Butterfly Effect

The Butterfly Effect

Foreword:

Edgar Allan Poe, in his essay "The Philosophy of Composition" wrote “It appears evident, then, that there is a distinct limit, as regards length, to all works of literary art- the limit of a single sitting”. The Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America attribute a piece of work with less than 7,500 words as a short story. This however is an attempt, a stepping stone if you must, to produce a composition covering a wide theme and well developed characters.

The Second Act, the accidental name I chose for my blog, and its consequential description is hopefully reflected in what I have tried to produce. A story that stays in the Second Act, so to speak, throughout, and the first and last acts are encompassed in it.

A positive review would provide me the confidence to try and write more exhaustive stories. A good critique will help me write better and improve my current writing before I transcend to the arena of novellas and novels.