His consciousness gazed at the talking visage of the creepy-haired man, a part of his memory. He looked around, watching the scene in the rifts change. On the road was a small pool of blood that began to flow up, against the effect of gravity.
It entered the opened area of the door, seeping into the many wounds on the youth. The iron rods that had pierced him moved backward, coming out of his body. His wounds closed; the scene felt as if everything was being reversed in time.
The traffic moved in reverse, the youth drove the car to a certain building. Pravaha Nigam; the car drove past the sign and eventually parked itself underground. The youth exited the car and walked in reverse, eventually arriving on the 14th floor.
A flurry of backward play later, the scene stopped at the moment when the big figure had entered the room. The scene began to play as usual, but this time, there was a mild difference. A scene from his memory matched with what had happened now.
