The Knock
Thud-thud-thud!
The sound of fists pounding against wood jolted Adhithan awake once more, but this time, the assault was met with a response from the other side.
"Adhithan, open the door! We are the Guard. I am the Guard Captain, Dharman. Open the door!" A voice, authoritative and sharp, sliced through the panels.
Dharman? An unknown name… Adhithan crept to the door, his heart a trapped bird against his ribs. Peering through the keyhole, he saw two figures in khaki guard uniforms. Swallowing hard, he turned the lock and pulled the door open.
The man who stood before him had eyes the colour of cold ash. This was the Captain. Beside him stood a second man, the Vice-Captain, whose smiling face seemed strangely vacant, like a mask. The words 'Captain' and 'Vice-Captain' were stitched onto their shoulder patches in stark, official script. (In this world, there was no police system like inspectors.)
Startled, Adhithan managed, "Is there a problem?"
"No. Do you know Vetri and Nayagi?" Captain Dharman's reply was a flat line, devoid of warmth.
"Yes, they are my friends. What about them?" Adhithan's voice held a tremor he couldn't suppress.
The Captain's ash-grey eyes hardened. "Are you acting? You mean you don't know they're dead?"
Adhithan's world tilted. The blood seemed to drain from his face, pooling ice-cold in his feet. "Dead? What… how?"
"We found a cart driver," Dharman continued, his gaze unblinking. "He gave testimony that on the 27th, the day Mr. Vetri and Nayagi died, you went to Vetri's house. Furthermore, your cart fare was paid by Vetri himself." He paused, letting the implication hang in the dusty air of the hallway. "Then, the three of you went to the cremation grounds. You performed some ritual there. They were burned to death. But a bullet was found nearby. There was also another body, partially burned beside them… a body that has now disappeared. So, either you committed murder, or you helped someone else commit it. Or, were they committing suicide with your help?" The questions came like hammer blows. "And who is this 'Lucifer'? Are you part of some Satanic group?"
Adhithan was reeling. It wasn't fear of being caught that gripped him, but a profound, disorienting confusion and a grief that felt fresh and raw. Tears, genuine and hot, welled in his eyes as an answer.
He wasn't lying. He was genuinely stunned by the testimony Dharman presented.
June 27th. He had gone to Vetri's house the day before. And that very night, Vetri and Nayagi had gone to the cremation grounds!
Adhithan let out a strained, hollow laugh. "That's not enough proof. It doesn't directly connect me to their deaths. I'm telling you the truth—I'm desperate to know what happened there myself. I don't know what happened to my two friends. But… but… I genuinely don't remember. Honestly, I have no memory of what I did on the 27th. I know it's hard to believe, but I might have gone to Vetri's house, I might have gone to the cremation grounds… I have no memory of it."
"That third burned body was yours, wasn't it?" Dharman said, nodding slowly, as if confirming a private suspicion.
"I am telling the truth," Adhithan insisted, looking directly into those unsettling grey eyes.
Dharman waited in silence. His eyes swept over Adhithan's spartan room once before he posed his next questions, his voice lower now. "Who was that fourth person with you? That note, in blood, saying 'Lucifer shall reign again'—what was its real meaning? And above it, a triangular symbol and a bloody handprint, seemingly of a thirty-year-old. Whose was it? And where is that revolver now?"
Wordlessly, Adhithan pointed to the spot where the gun had lain.
Dharman noted the location with a glance. "Tell me what you do remember."
Without hesitation, Adhithan began, clinging to the fragments he had. "Yesterday, I woke up at the cremation grounds. A revolver was lying next to me. There were two burned bodies nearby—I didn't know then it was Vetri and Nayagi. In a corner, there was a bullet. It looked like a suicide attempt. My clothes… they were half-burned, turned to ash clinging to my skin. Maybe I set myself on fire, or maybe I was thrown… I don't know. Somehow, I'm still alive."
"Since then, I've lost some memories. What I saw at Vetri's house on the 27th, what I did at the cremation grounds… none of it is there. I'm not lying. I truly don't remember." He grasped for another thread. "A teacher introduced us to the Luminatti book. But that teacher's name or face… it doesn't come to me."
He was a suspect trying to exonerate himself, to extricate himself from this web of bizarre events. So, he explained almost everything—except for the "Transposition" and the "Cosmic World."
He chose his words with the care of a man walking on broken glass.
Dharman's eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly at the mention of the Luminatti book. He listened quietly, then said, "This aligns with what I had theorized. There have been similar incidents in the past, with the same pattern. Though, how you survived is beyond me."
"Thank you for believing me. I don't know how I survived either," Adhithan said, releasing a small, shaky breath.
"But—" Dharman tossed the connecting word like a gauntlet. "My believing you means nothing. You are still the primary suspect. Whether you're truly uninvolved or have simply forgotten…" he trailed off, then coughed. "Only an expert can determine that."
Then he delivered the verdict. "Mr. Adhithan, you must come with me to the guard station for questioning. If we can confirm you are not the perpetrator, we will release you. It should take about two to three days."
"Has the expert arrived already?" Adhithan asked, confusion warring with alarm. "You said it would take two days!"
"He arrived ahead of schedule," the Vice-Captain replied, turning slightly and gesturing for Adhithan to come outside.
"Let me leave a note," Adhithan pleaded, a desperate idea forming. "My brother Rasan hasn't returned home yet. Menaka has gone to school. If they come back, there will be unnecessary worry. Please."
Dharman gave a curt, almost dismissive nod. "Fine."
Adhithan turned back to his desk, his mind racing. He saw the window was ajar. A reckless, survivalist impulse took over. He had no desire to meet this "expert." Above all, he had a colossal secret to protect.
What if the expert discovers I'm from Earth?
In a flash, he lunged for the window, swung his legs over the sill, and jumped.
It was a calculated risk. Based on the assassination of the ancient sage Agathiyar—a suspected pioneer of Transposition—in a place with seven great temples, anything like "Transposition" would be a severe liability in a court of law.
If they draw their guns and shoot, it's over! The thought was a spur. He landed with a jarring thud on the packed earth below, the impact shooting up his legs, but he was unhurt. He scrambled up and burst into a sprint, a thin hope his only fuel.
Adhithan didn't have time to think; he bent forward, weaving through the sparse afternoon crowd on the street.
Pushing past startled vendors and dodging carts, he made a frantic escape towards the opposite side. His goal was clear now: avoid the "expert" at all costs. He would head to the port outside the city, board a boat on the Cauvery river, and escape to the bustling capital, Ithampaadal. There, lost in the masses, he could disappear.
Or better yet, he could take a steam train east to the nearby port of Thoothukudi and sail to Vali, then onward to Ithampaadal. The options flitted through his mind as his feet pounded the dust.
Without wasting another moment, Adhithan reached a main thoroughfare and turned onto Blacksmith Street. Several hired bullock carts stood waiting.
"To the port outside the city," Adhithan said, breathless, waving a hand and climbing into the nearest cart. A black bullock was harnessed to it.
"Alright," the cart driver said, tugging at the ropes.
Clop. Clop. Clop… The cart pulled away from Blacksmith Street.
Just as Adhithan began to relax slightly, the cart seemed to lurch upwards. He blinked. The street below was falling away.
"Are we going to the cremation grounds…?" the cart driver asked in a monotone.
What?! Adhithan's blood ran cold. The driver turned, revealing cold, ash-grey eyes. It was Dharman!
"You!" Adhithan panicked and tried to leap out. An old man appeared to help him up. Adhithan thanked him and looked at his face—it was also Dharman, the guard! Trembling, Adhithan stumbled back. A gigantic figure was seated atop the buildings, lighting a cigarette.
"Adhithan, no matter how hard you try, you cannot escape," the giant Dharman said, exhaling smoke.
---
Adhithan woke up crying, his confusion absolute. He blinked, disoriented. Through the window, he saw yellow moons, and the room was bathed in a yellowish haze.
Sweat dripped from his brow. He wiped it with a trembling hand, trying to soothe himself.
"It was just a bad dream…" Adhithan heaved a sigh of profound relief. "Everything is alright… Everything is alright…"
Yet, it was strange. In the dream, his thoughts had been so clear, so logical!
Once calmer, he checked his pocket watch. 3 PM. How can there be moonlight at three in the afternoon? Am I still dreaming?
He opened his door and stepped into the dark corridor. Under the dim, unnatural lunar glow, he walked slowly towards the washroom.
Suddenly, at the end of the corridor, outside a window, he saw a shadow.
The shadow was cast by a bullock. A figure sat upon it.
The shape lurked partly in darkness, obscured by the yellow moonlight.
Then, a river of blood began to flow.
The shadow where the figure sat swelled upwards like a mountain. Adhithan screamed as the shadowy hand reached out and lifted him high.
He looked at the shadow. Time ran backwards. The moon set where it had risen. The sun rose where it had set, taking its place in the sky at the three o'clock position.
The shadow sitting on the black bullock was now revealed in the evening light.
It was none other than Dharman.