Strangely Familiar

“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering.” - Yoda

The wind was sharp against the glass window that would have cracked easily if only it wasn’t supported by iron rods enclosing the entire frame in a zig-zag pattern. The cluttering sound of the window sill accompanied by the constant disturbance caused by the wind was enough for Naina to break free from her light sleep.

She forced her eyes open, annoyed at the noise that was triggering her headache. Picking a room on the first floor wasn’t her finest idea. She mentally whined.

Getting on her feet, feeling a little anxious, she tiptoed across the hall and knocked at the room situated opposite hers, banging her fist against it.

The door opened several seconds later, revealing her very sleepy and annoyed brother.

“Can’t sleep.” She spoke.

“So you decided to disrupt mine.” He yawned, even in a half-drowsy state, his cheekiness doesn’t entirely evade him.

“Well, no. It’s windy, and the window in my room is making too much noise.”

Samraat inclined his body, laying his head against the doorway, taking support, and hummed sleepily.

“Sammy?”

He mumbled something incoherently, bickering about bits of nothing. Naina shook her head and guided him back to his bed. He lay down haphazardly, sleep claiming him almost instantly. Having heard her own sigh, she realized the room was extremely silent.

Scowling at her luck at the choice of room, she marched back to witness a loud shrill like the wind was trying to push its way in through the window. Peeking outside, she came face to face with the entrance of the West Wing of the Mansion that was staring right back at her in the darkness of night.

The wind must be flowing from west to east. She concluded, musing briefly, her sight fixed on the building in front of her. It looked even more horrifying at this hour. Shaking her head and feeling the refusal of sleep to claim her state of consciousness, she cursed softly and decidedly made her way down the hall.

Flipping through the content on her phone in her hand, she rested her back against the chair around one huge dining table. Unlike what most people expect from old buildings, the place was sufficiently lit up under heavy moonlight, enough to make way without tripping, not to mention the excellent ventilation. The entire wing was comfortably cooler than her room back home.

Resting her legs on the table, she scrolled down several notifications from her friends and colleagues, informing one another about their safety and that they had successfully relocated to different centers.

Naina sighed in relief.

A strange noise caught her attention, altering her, and she promptly got up to find its source. It was unlike her to be curious at midnight, but the last couple of days kept her on edge. Frequently taking in the entire space, she took several steps around, spinning on heels, but couldn’t locate anything.

Out of the blue, and without warning, she felt a creeping sensation up her spine again, only this time shivers gushing through her veins like blood, pumping her heart faster than usual. Her head jerked lightly on its own. Unable to shake off the alien feeling of being watched, she strolled around to find the source of her unbidden nervousness.

Nothing passed by her that could remotely confirm her suspicion and put her mind at ease. The portrait was hanging innocently in its place, completely innocuous. Naina narrowed her path with her eyebrows furrowed as she saw the portrait’s eyes twinkle on its own accord, with moonlight slanting across half its frame.

It must be the trick of the light, she gathered her thoughts, hoping it to be the only probable reason. Only when the light shifted, revealing the portrait entirely, she saw the color of his eyes claim a tinge of red, barely perceptible, his gaze lingering - following, though not really, almost letting its viewer believe they move to and fro on their own.

Naina was flabbergasted at such an impeccable sense of the painter. They were true artists. It was all her logical mind could conclude, for she refused to believe any magical and mythical versions of horrendous, haunted tales.

Her mother said so, and she believed her.

However, that did not explain why she suddenly found herself fixed at one spot, entranced, her vision transfixed into oblivion. She was staring into nothingness again, ignoring the plea of her brain urging her to move. Before she could follow its command, her mind was instantly hit by a wave, causing her to stumble away, with consciousness slipping, and no matter how hard she tried to stay awake, her eyes felt heavier every passing second. A strange, though not unfamiliar, sensation washed over her, too powerful to overcome. Not that she wanted to. It was weirdly comforting.

Like a lullaby.

Her rationality wanted to scream and cry for help, but her senses defied her. For some reason, they couldn’t perceive the urgency like it was torn in two halves. She tried to move, grip, and clench her fist to earn back the control of her body that felt like it was floating on its own.

‘Give in’

It was the only voice she heard in her spiral thoughts before darkness consumed her.

Naina Patil woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or that was her first thought when she felt her back stiff and neck sprained. Her shoulders ached as she took their support to rise to realize she was lying on a cramped hard floor. Rubbing her eyes groggily, her vision adjusted to her surroundings.

“Still alive.” The voice sounded vaguely familiar. Naina frowned, finding no one in the vast space but herself.

The voice continued to loom behind her almost disdainfully, “I wonder why that is.”

He murmured to himself. She abruptly spun on her heels to come face to face with the source, her eyes widened in horror, and her legs moved on their own, shifting backward and away from him.

Ghosts aren’t real.

Her mind kept on chanting the same line. Her palms covered the side of her face, shielding it, controlling the heartbeats that were bursting out of her ears. The nightmare felt so real that she wanted to pinch herself.

The other occupant did not make a villainous move. He simply looked at her with curiosity and genuine interest, his eyes twitching slightly as if mentally trying to decipher the lurking conundrum.

Like she was some puzzle.

Naina couldn’t help but notice the irony. Here she was, staring right at the owner of the Mansion, standing in flesh and blood, the owner who was supposed to be long dead. Her heart was hammering against her chest as she tried to collect herself.

“How-how is it possible?” Her voice was a bare whisper to herself as she pinned him with blind incredulity. “What are you?”

He smirked slightly, making his way past her, throwing himself on a very peculiar chair that appeared out of nowhere.

“Knowledge always comes at a price.”

“Your portrait brought me here.” She was quick to put things together, and with her panic lowering significantly, she felt strangely calm. “Why?”

“To kill you, obviously. Tea?”

The pot emerged in the air. He took a cup for himself and offered the other to her.

Shooketh would not be the word to describe her current state. She was aghast and vigorously shook her head in refusal.

“I can see the gears in your mind churning. Go on, bore me.” Sniggering at his own words, he waved his hand, gesturing her to proceed.

She wondered briefly if one could negotiate with ghosts if he considered himself one.

“But didn’t you say knowledge comes at a price?” She stressed her forehead, repeating his statement.

He mixed something in his tea, too focused to spare her a look, “I usually feel generous after my victims escape death.”

How lovely! If Naina was scared, she chose not to show it.

“You should be dead.”

“I can say the same about you, yet here we are.”

She doubled take his words, her forehead creasing, and almost instantly, with trembling hands, she searched to find her pulse only to realize her heart was still beating erratically.

“I was... there in the hall, the-the wing, and then your portrait, and I fainted.” She stammered, her voice quivering on its own. Being under his direct attention was instigating unearthly sensations inside her. She shook her head, hugging her arms around her timid form. “Where am I?”

“The Brickstone Mansion.”

No sooner the words escaped his lips than the entire space lit up on its own. It felt warm and vibrant, a complete contrast to what she witnessed just a few moments ago. The place was a replica of the wing her family currently occupied with minor dissimilarities. There is a reason she is good at math. Her mind did a quick calculation, eyes roaming around the corner, observing every detail.

“You lie.” Naina surprised herself at the audacity to accuse her attempted murderer.

He raised his eyebrows, surprised and amused at her foolishness but got over the novelty quickly. “Pray tell, why do you think you are in any position to question the creator of this place?”

“I was just there.” She defended her stance, warmth gripping her like a second skin. “I can tell the difference.”

He hummed disinterestedly, not bothered to clear the ambiguity.

Naina bit her lips. Naturally, she did not know where to go, knowing, all the same, she wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. The person, if she could call him one, was still shadowing her with his penetrating stare, sitting quite leisurely, sipping his tea. It was getting rather unbecoming.

“What did you do to me?”

“What makes you think I did anything?”

Distinctly, she knew he was playing with her mind.

“You just said you wanted to kill me. But I’m still alive. I am, aren’t I?”

“You are alive. It’s been a while since the last failure, almost forgot its taste.” He clicked his tongue, thoughtfully, and once again, a certain gleam claimed his eyes. “We can try again, though.”

Naina was caught off guard. It was one thing to get killed and another thing to get mocked and killed. She would choose the former any day.

He laughed at her miserable state. “I certainly missed how amusing mortals are.”

His statement should have been enough to give someone a cardiac arrest, but the atmosphere felt outlandishly comforting, like secretly encouraging her to stay collected, despite her unusual company. Being tired of standing, and almost intuitively, she took three steps to her side, to sit on the little chair beside her, thinking the owner, apparently very much dead-alive owner had no ounce of decency, courtesy, or even the slightest humanity inside him.

Think about offering tea to your victim, and see if they want to get killed again. What kind of psychopath does that? She wondered. If she were to die, she might as well die at ease.

“Getting comfortable, are we? One would assume you don’t want to leave.” His tone was light, nonetheless taunting her to act up, attempting to rile up her subdued anger, making her even more convinced about her utter dislike towards the man.

“It’s not like I have a choice.” She retaliated scornfully, her true emotions surfacing. “Any place is better than being in the company of a monster.”

“Watch your mouth!” He hissed quietly with a tone so sharp, it had the potential to cut through rough edges. Naina knew the voice was dangerously close to anger, being a short-tempered one herself.

“Oh, forgive me. I don’t associate well with murderers.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, causing his entire demeanor to shift substantially, to the extent that she could physically taste the aura around him becoming far more commanding. “You have outstayed your welcome. Leave.”

Before she could speak, he flicked his wrist, and the darkness swirled around, claiming her once again.

A yawn escaped her lips when someone jerked her awake. Her eyes snapped open, lifting herself off so quickly that her head bumped with her brothers’ forehead.

“Hey!” Samraat cried softly, rubbing his left eye. “That’s what I get after getting my sleep disturbed in the middle of the night.”

“Sammy, I-,” She halted, all gloomy and grumpy, taking in the scene around her.

“I saw him last night,” She whispered.

“Who?” Samraat was still rubbing the sore spot.

“Shaurya Lomhani.”

“Yeah, so? What’s a big deal?”

“I mean, I saw him.” Naina tried to explain, but her words were cut by their mothers’ voice, who requested their presence immediately.

“Ma and Dad are expecting us downstairs. C’mon, up you get.”

“No,” she shrieked angrily, pulling him down by his arm at the edge of the bed to sit beside her. “Listen to me.”

“I know you are not a morning person, but there is no need to get so cranky.” He scowled.

“I met him inside this Mansion. I don’t know where exactly or how it all happened, but-but something did. I am sure of it.” Naina knew her words were making no sense, but she had to try.

“You are talking like a loon.”

She looked at him in utter desperation.

“Could it be possible that you fell asleep thinking about the painting, and it somehow turned up in your dream?” Her brother tried to reason, and she would have come up with a similar conclusion had it not felt so real.

“I promise that’s not the case. Believe me.”

She stopped in her tracks, meeting the gaze of their latest visitor.

“Everything okay?” Their Father was standing at the doorway, arms folded, wearing a concerned look. When the recipients nodded in response, he asked, “Then what is taking so long?”

“Nothing.” They both spoke at once.

“Then c’mon! You know your mother doesn’t tolerate tardiness.” He reminded them and left, his words resonating behind him.

Samraat took in his sisters’ state, who was looking at him pleadingly. He spoke in a reassuring voice. “We’ll talk later. First, let’s get some food inside you.”