[MG] FF:Rules Of Resistance|Chapter5/Pg10/Sep15(Posted!) - Page 4

[2] Suicide, She Wrote

The doorbell rang- one, twice. Upon no response, a perfectly blemished letter slid on the rug, on the threshold. The grandfather clock chimed seven times, indicating seven o'clock, the day-break time for the people in the house.
Geet woke up, wearied, the thought of last night's events completely erased off her mind. For her, another morning it was, another day to jig in the discovery of another life.
After a quick brush, she busied herself in the kitchen, getting everything ready for the upcoming day when the doorbell rang, twice that morning, to her oblivion. She darted to it, opening the wooden door, which creaked as a reflex action, but to her surprise, stood no one. Sighed, the door was roughly closed and the envelope on the mat was noticed. Opening the soiled envelope, she gasped at its contents.

"Hearken to my words Mister Jew.
Larking with my wife
is what caused him this knife.
This is a warning;
an intentional mourning.
So Miss Handa take my words with heed
or you too... shall be deed"

Geet flinched as the sound of the phone ringing impeded her thoughts. She was panic-stricken when last night's memory came crashing like a wave onto her.
The phone call.
The threat.
The coincidence.
The fright bestowed on her was back, with its full might, this time as intricate as ever. An amalgam of fear and shock was brewing inside her and confusion was superseding her. Was that supposed to be a threat? Was last night's call not a prank?
Her mind was anesthetized as she heard someone advancing towards her. The footsteps were gaining pace, and, ossified by that letter, she stood numb, in trepidation that she would be mercilessly murdered. Plucking upper courage she screeched at the top of her voice, "Maan! Help!" and was instantly silenced by someone's palm sadistically encompassed over her mouth.
"Shh Geet," the owner of the palm soothed and she relaxed against his strong hold. "What happened? Why are you yelling? It's only me, Maan."
With wavering hands, she handed the letter to him and, his eyes changed from confused to angered. His teeth flawlessly gritted, and his fist perfectly clenched, he darted outside, in the hope of beholding the sight of the letter-writer. Geet stood in shock, sipping in his actions and dashing after him outside.

*

"What is that supposed to mean?" Maan said taking a seat on the dining table. Geet shrugged, pondering whether it would be legit to lash out the last night's calls to Maan. As she found its confession of paramount importance and was about to let go of her feelings, the phone rang dismantling the silence and hurdling her aspire to talk.
She held the receiver to her ears and tears made their way down her cheeks. "Anvesha is no more," was all what she managed to say amid her sobs. "Shooting is cancelled for today. Her dead body was found on the sets, hanging from the ceiling. They've blocked any entry for today and it's closed for inspection."

"Can you go back on your words?" Maan said, pain inscribed on his face. Geet hugged him and articulated with great difficulty, "Suicide, she wrote."

*

Anvesha. Anvesha Rathore, Maan's on screen sister, Nickie was lying on the floor, lifeless and motionless, garbed in a gray suit with marks of white chalk warily crafted all around her silhouette, on the floor. Her husband, Arjun Rathore seemed to be in a deep conversation with the in-charge officers. His hair was carelessly sprawled all around his head; a few strands falling on his forehead and beneath his eyes were sheets of dark circles, indicating the hurt he had to go through.

Geet's heart ached at his helplessness. "God forbid, if anything happens to me, I hope Maan will be able muster the courage to go through such an ordeal," she silently prayed, hugging Maan, whose face read an indescribable emotion. Bidding off your wife, who has committed suicide, to another world, is tough and painful indeed. Especially if your entire existence depended on her, your mornings depended on her smile, your nights depended on her care and your entire life depended on her love. She could clearly feel his pain and urged Maan to go to him and, have a talk to him, easing his sufferance.

"It's not suicide, Mr. Jones, I'm sure of that," Arjun started wailing loudly, as the couple advanced to him.
"My wife had everything she wanted in her life. She would in no way, want to take the coward's way out. I have enough trust on her- she's not a coward. Anvesha Rathore is a fighter."

"Yes, inspector. I've known her for about three years, now, and I can ascertain that she was indeed a brave woman. She loathed the fact of suicide. She was the one who taught me that no matter how life reels out, I just had to cope with everything, and combat difficulties. Suicide was never a way out and, is never a way out! It all hints towards the fact that this may be a murder case," Geet stated out, supporting Arjun and felt Maan stiffening beside her. She sent him a comforting look and gripped his palm onto hers.

"It is indeed a murder case!" Maan tensed at Arjun's remark and sensing that Geet simply soothed him with a tug on his palm. "It's all because of that morning letter," she concluded, mentally.

"We really can't conclude anything based on your beliefs. Everything is clearly pointing out that this is a suicidal case. Here's the suicide note, which clearly states that this step was taken because of the pressure she couldn't withstand, lest that this isn't the case, the handwriting is being analysed at the Forensic Laboratory and the reports shall be up by next week. Only a reason for the strain she was facing is anonymous, which can be easily construed, given the circumstances. Therefore, your conviction is groundless and, we cannot take this into consideration. My utter apologies." The policeman declared out.

Frustrated, Arjun spat, "Then what about the reason of the lieu of suicide? Why did she commit that act here, on the sets of her show? Any lawful reason, inspector?"

"The location of crime falls under the assumption that she had come here for late night practices, to get further acquainted with the sets and to further duvet herself in her role."

"But, her role in the show was over. Nickie was portrayed dead, two episodes back. She had nothing to do with the sets. After working for nearly 3 and a half years here, what makes you believe that she wasn't accustomed to it? Pure logic, Mr. Jones," Geet said defensively, not at all satisfied that it was a suicidal case.

"But, the director, Jew Heyday, has other views. He has stated in his testimony that she was to be enrolled for another pivotal role, which had yet to be scripted and, she knew about it, too. He has even handed over the documents that clearly affirms so. I'm afraid, that this is a suicide case and, unless no further evidence crops up or the forensic reports state otherwise, the case is closed. I know that you are aggrieved by the loss of a close one, but staying in denial is not a choice." The superintendent Jones said, before encoating himself and moving away from the two pig-heads.

Geet hugged Arjun, patting his shoulders, assuring him that all would fall into place, soon and that she was with him in the battle.

*

Night fell by and, Geet was on the bed, playing with the strands of hair that had fallen loose from her bun, replaying the events of the day in her mind. Confusion was all that she could get to. She was uncertain that the death of Anvesha and the phone calls were interlinked. Worry was that she could be killed in the same way as Anvesha was and, her husband would be left all alone.

Strikingly, the letter said otherwise. It vividly mentioned that Jew was killed, but Jew was hale and hearty, testifying for the crime. On the contrary, Anvesha ended up losing her life and Arjun his wife.

Things were bolting up to get further confusing, so she fished out her notebook from the drawer and made notes, at the same time, contemplating whether it would be apt to get Maan's ears to the phone calls the previous night. She halted on a no, since it would get him further worried from the morning's letter.

1. A call at midnight, from the so called "Resistance", telling that after Nickie, Rose would be dead- which is in turn, me.
Call at midnight-threat-I am to die.

2. A letter in the morning, stating that Jew was already dead and I would be next in the list, but it happens that Jew remains alive and it was Anvesha who lost her life.
Letter-Threat-Jew dead-Me next.

3. Anvesha dead-suicide-murder but not suicide.

Geet carelessly scribbled down in her notebook and put it in the drawer as soon as Maan stepped out of the bathroom. She absolutely didn't want to have him worrying about. Making up her mind that if the phone rang today, she would wake Maan up and have him deal with that psychopath, she snored away, hugging him tightly.

At around eleven, Geet woke up, startled and panting at the bad dream she had got and, was flabbergasted to find Maan away from his side of the bed. Turning on the lights, she sifted through all the rooms but to no avail, he was anywhere to be found. His phone was off, and, the worrying matter was that Anvesha had been murdered the night before, at about the same time...

*

Credit for the letter threat goes to Jerry Daroch!

I hope that you people liked it! :)

Happy Ganesh Chaturthi to everyone out here!

Originally posted by: Flame_of_Forest

beautiful thriller update..mystery is building up.

Nickey (Anvesha) is dead in real..😲 Geet and Arjun suspecting it as Murder and Maan was restless with mention of it...Maan definitely knows something, but is now missing 😲

Geet is trying to find link with all events...but why is she not approaching the Police?

eagerly waiting for next..pls continue.

Originally posted by: JumpyUmbrella

You know, you are the first one to ask me why did she not approach the police! I love you for this question!😆

I'm just waiting for the thread to buzz up a little, then, I'll post the next chapter, wherein you'll find your answer!

[3] The Corpse

Geet sauntered all around the living room, dodging the sofa in that process and, finally opened the door.

"Mrs. Geet Khurana?" the person, eerily garbed in a black suit asked and Geet nodded. "Inspector Mathew Lancaster here; you had called at Le Brigadier police station a few minutes back?"

"Yes, my husband is missing."

*

Taking a seat on the gigantic canape that the couple had recently purchased on their first anniversary, the policeman took out a wad of papers, meticulously filling the blank spaces and the dotted lines, here and there, while sipping a cup of coffee offered to him. "So?" he started. "I want to know everything."

The narration was not less than five minutes, consisting of only the brief details that by the time her eyes opened, her husband had vanished, without even necessitating a magic wand, contrary to his usual habits. Geet's mind debated to whether divulging further details of the strange phone calls and threats might help, but, she swatted them away, unwilling to create a mountain out of a molehill. "Maan's absence is not related to that," she mentally chided herself and suppressed a smile to the inspector.

Signing away the paper and, wiping her hands off the formalities, she tried his phone again, the umpteenth time, that night but, the line went dead after the voicemail. She sat down, her face buried in her hands, worry nibbling her, and, tears streaming down her face.

The clock struck midnight and, on the dot, the phone rang. Her eyes widened in horror- she hadn't still forgotten last night's encounter. The police officer looked at her, inquiringly and she faltered in her steps to the phone. As soon as she picked it up, the phone went dead and, her heartbeat gained pace. The psychopath or whatever he could be named was back.

Sensing the tension in the room and Geet's fear, Mathew, questioned, typical of his job, "Any problem? A phone call at midnight precisely doesn't call in good news."

She wondered about revealing everything to the inspector for a few seconds, when the phone rang again. This time it was not the landline, it was Mathew's phone, and, she was stressed as to the phone call might be one unveiling Maan's sudden disappearance. Her heartbeats went haywire for another set of ticking minutes, when the policeman tucked in his phone into his pocket and, voiced out, "Bad news, it is."

Tears started brimming in her eyes, and the corners of her visual aid started crinkling. It was an unidentified body on the sets of The Resistance' and, it did encompass a high probability of the corpse being that of Maan.
The only thing praying in her mind was that she had just gotten married, a year back and she was already devoid of the marital bliss. She would no longer be a wife, no longer be a friend and no longer be a confidant to her husband, her life that had been cruelly snatched from her by a psychopath, by a gory killer.

"Suicide case, again, is it?" she articulated allaying away her fears, more determined and, rather vindictive now.

Mathew shrugged, "We'll get to know about it, once we reach."

*

In twenty four hours, it was the second murder on the sets of The Resistance' and, deep inside her heart, Geet was happy that she hadn't lost Maan.

During the first few minutes she had been there, she was suffocating, at that cruel thought. It was as though the most important thing of her life was slipping away from the gaps in her fingers and even though, there was a bowl beneath, the sieve on top of it prevented her from saving it, from preventing it of getting lost.

The body was hanging from the ceiling, lifelessly, bringing back souvenirs of Anvesha's suicide, which she knew was a murder case. Unwillingly, Geet held the foot of the body, despite the numerous attempts to stop her, and concealed her face in it, sobbing. Her heart ached at the sight of the corpse. His head was turned away from her, but, she had that pessimistic feeling brewing in her, that it might be her husband, victim of a dreadful murder.

She shooed away all the negative thoughts and carved way for the police officers to untie his hanging body, bringing it to the ground. Sarcastic, it was, how people had the same ground as a support to stand, to live and how they were amalgamated in the same ground, to part for afterlife. Her face waterlogged with tears, she brought her wavering hands to the corpse, turning his head to face her.

Relief bathed her as that known figure was not of Maan's. She sighed in relief and, said glum overpowering her, "Jew, Jew Heyday."

She sat down on the nearest seat she could get to, and, pondered over the recently occurring events. Anvesha was hung by the ceiling and dead. Jew, their director, was hung by the ceiling, weirdly at the same spot, and was dead too. Maan, her husband was missing, and might be in some sort of difficulty too. Perturbed, Geet felt like screaming, screaming her lungs out. It was all too complicated for her to solve and, the more she felt like the threat was a joke, the more she got stuck in the web of murders. It seemed that the murderer was spinning a yarn of similar murders, in a row, and, maybe at the same time. But what had Maan got to do with all that? Why was he... abducted maybe?

It was time, she concluded.

"Mathew, I have something to confess."

"I'm in all ears, shoot," he replied nonchalantly, his eyes transfixed on me.

"I've been warned- I've been getting threats since yesterday. Anonymous phone calls at midnight, just like the one today and, a weird letter insinuating that I was about to die was on my door mat yesterday morning. It even hinted that Jew was already dead. I don't see the logic; I've been trying to figure it out, but pouf! I return back to square one, each time."

He nodded pensively and said, rudeness evident in his tone, "Leave the thinking thing for us. Your job, as a citizen was to inform the police the moment you got the letter. Not just by being stars and enacting the role of a detective, makes you one. Where's the letter? I need the letter."

She looked down at her toes, annoyed by the light shining onto her eyes and as well, by Mathew's offensive reply. She tried blocking the light from entering her eyes by placing her palm on her brown orbs, but was unsuccessful. Looking up to the source of the light, at around one in the morning, Geet's mouth hung open and she shrieked, gathering all eyes on the shelf. There was a hand hanging from the summit of the shelf and the bracelet in it was reflecting the tube-light into her eyes.

She gasped as she recognized her ring in one of its fingers and as the hand's owner's face appeared. "Maan, oh my god!" In less than no time, she was in sobs, along with the police hauling him down.

He had a deep cut on his head and was bleeding, badly bleeding. Tears kept flowing infinitely from her eyes, as she held his hand and felt his pulse. "He's still alive," she sighed, still amid her snivels. His hands were painted with bruises all about and his shirt was torn. Geet held his unconscious body to her chest and, hugging him, she cried, pouring out all her fears and apprehensions. She did not deserve this. She did not deserve such a life.

"I'm afraid that you will have to let go of him. He has to be ushered to the hospital," Mathew said, softening his voice to a Geet who was clutching Maan like a child who had found an ice-cream.

*

The doorbell rang- one, twice. Upon no response, a perfectly blemished letter slid on the rug, on the threshold. The grandfather clock chimed seven times, indicating seven o'clock, on that day.

*

Author's Note: Things might have returned back to where it started and, I hope you are not displeased by this part.😊

I will not be able to notify you all of the chapters by messages since I'm travelling. Sorry for the inconvenience. I hope you understand!

Waiting for reviews/criticisms for this one!

Sorry! Double post!

Reserved for any queries.