The Confession-II| Fiction

Okay. I know that this one should have come earlier as promised and I am really sorry  for that. But believe me, I was occupied with so many different things that proceeding with this totally got off my mind. Moreover, I really didn’t have a clear direction about where the story will move to and what turns it will take. Those of you who have not read the initial installment can read it here. And I thank the rest of you for being patient enough, hope this one doesn’t disappoint you.

 

“I always despised that man. He never was someone to be liked. He was all show and thought himself to be some kind of god.”

“And that made you hate him so much that you killed him?”

“Do I need to hate someone to kill them. I hate my father more than any person this entire world and yet I haven’t killed him. It is not just hatred for someone or something that drives people to kill other people. Killing is an not easy job. Tell me how many people or for you, how many criminals have you killed so far?”, Darshan erupted suddenly.

“I never needed to kill someone so far. Although I’ve shot at criminals but no one died. And what…”

“You haven’t killed anyone because you are too weak and fragile to do that just like the rest of the world, just like my dad, just like Rajat. You all try to be so hard and tough from outside but from within, you all are just a coward piece of filthy shit weakened by all the fake emotions you have gathered in life that it stops you from seeing everything vividly. It is the hazy and blasphemous veil of uncertain conscience that you cover yourself with and which keeps you from realizing the real motives of every known thing.”, Darshan said interrupting me.

“I don’t buy that. What you are saying is utter bullshit. What you call a veil of uncertain conscience is what drives humans to do what is right. And murdering people in cold blood, that is not right. Calling people cowards isn’t justified when you kill someone fearing your own cowardice.”

“Whatever your beliefs are, they are all false. You think love is what keeps people happy. I’ve seen people betraying their lovers for money. You think truth always wins and I’ve seen liars judging people. You think happiness can’t be bought. Find a child begging for money on signals, buy him food, buy him clothes and then say happiness can’t be bought. And what do you think of killing? Do you think it’s only hatred or a motive for killing someone?  NO. It is disgust, hatred, anger, rage, the feeling to break free from your fears and wanting to rid the world of its weaknesses that drives a killer and I’ve plenty of that.”

“Then tell me why in the fucking universe did you kill that bloody actor and don’t give me that crap of freeing the world of its weakness again or I’ll turn you upside down and rip your head off. Just tell me what happened on that night and why in the hell did you kill him?”, I bursted with anger, unable to hold my calm.

At that very moment I was so disgusted with him that I wanted to kick him in the pants. He was testing my patience and every single word of his was making me angry. If he would have told another story of his or gone into another rant then I don’t know what I would have done.

“He was phony. Fake in every way. Acting nice with people, making them like him and using them for his own advantage. People loved him, I did not. They were happy to be around him and not me. He had everything and he could have had more if it wasn’t for his behavior. I was only a crew member meant to keep the lightings  at the places they were meant to be. He treated me like his personal assistant. With all his sugar-coated words he used everyone to do things for him. From his snacks to his slippers, everything was provided to him by someone who should have been doing some other job and I didn’t like that. The day he asked me to take his pet dog inside his vanity, I snapped. It pissed me off. I hate dogs and who brings dogs to work. I knew I had enough and I wanted to do something about it. And I knew exactly what. His words were sweet poison and I decided to give him one of my own. Succinycholine, not too hard to find, I managed to have it. And  a few days later, injected him with it.”

“So, you killed  man because you did not like the way he behaved with you and that he had a dog. You are a sick man. And why are you now confessing after so long when you can walk in the daylight fearing no one? What is the point?”

“I don’t fear anyone. But if I stay in the shadows, how will the people know what it’s like to be fearless, afraid of no one, having no weakness, having no qualms and regret. They need to learn the right way to live. They need to get out of their shells and embrace what they really are. And for that, they need to know who I am.”

“Who you are!! You are a bloody murderer roaming around among the crowds. You are a psychopath who is in conflict with his beliefs and reality. You don’t really know the value of a life. You have nothing left inside of you. You are willing to take lives for satisfying your empty soul. Your heart is inked grey and all the sufferings you have given to people so far, everything will come back to you. No one and nothing can save you. I am informing the C.B.I. They will take good care of you.”

“Who wants to be saved? I’m only hear to preach what I feel and believe me, one day you too will feel the same. One day everyone will.”, he told me. Again this time with an empty face, no emotions, no regret, no remorse, no pain. Just an empty face and probably that was for the last time I saw that face.

 

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12 Comments

      1. I don’t know really, I mean when I get soaked in with that kind of stuff, I just somehow create a sketch of what would have happened, what would be the conversation like and how things would have actually played out. So, its just that.

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  1. Woah that was some debate. Darshan gives me creeps😰 I missed the first one somehow, so I went back and read that too. Can’t wait to read more.
    Your writing is so captivating and sort of old school, loved every bit. Keep writing this, young author😄

    Liked by 1 person

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