So here we are, stuck in this place, but how in the world, I didn't notice that there is another person in this room?
Maybe I should stop watching these tv serials for some days, my brain is getting fucked every day and I need to take a break, I haven't received my payment yet.
Why am I even worrying about my payment, what the fuck would I do with the money if I am going to be dead in the very next moment.
I can't believe that there is someone else in this room with me, and I've been completely unaware of their presence all this time.
As I turn around to see who it is, to my astonishment, I discover that it is none other than his own mother. She sits in the corner, her countenance devoid of emotion, like a lifeless figure with profound sadness in her eyes.
A realization struck me suddenly—a puzzle unfolding in my mind.
Among the trio being depicted as buried alive, I now understand that I occupy the second position, and this woman before me holds the first.
Yet, a burning question arises: Who, then, fills the role of the third one in this grim scenario?
I approach her, taking hesitant steps, and as I draw nearer, she turns her gaze toward me. Her face, devoid of any emotion, vividly reflects the anguish and torment she endures.
I am overwhelmed with disbelief—how can someone inflict such cruelty upon their own mother?
To confine her like this, subjecting her to torture akin to an animal's suffering.
What motive or satisfaction does this person derive from committing such heinous acts?
"I am Officer Arun, ma'am, and you are his mother," I inform her gently, trying to establish a connection amidst her distress.
Overwhelmed with anguish, she repeats the words, "My son, my son, my son," each utterance is a reflection of her deep pain.
Despite the circumstances, her unwavering love for her child shines through.
She adamantly rejects the notion that her son could commit such heinous acts.
She insists, "He is sweet and kind," holding onto the image of the son she knows and cherishes.
In this poignant moment, my heart aches for her.
Despite the atrocities inflicted upon her by her own flesh and blood, she refuses to accept the grim reality that her son has turned into a monster.
The profound sorrow in her eyes speaks volumes, for she clings desperately to a narrative of innocence and goodness, shielding herself from the unthinkable truth.
I sit down beside her I don't think she is in the state of talking to anyone
At this moment, all I can do is patiently wait for Amit or another officer to arrive.
I hope that if I am absent for an extended duration, Amit will eventually notice my absence and take action.
Perhaps, if luck is on my side, he will realize something is amiss and initiate the search for me. For now, my only option is to endure the passage of time and hope for a timely rescue.
"Listen, ma'am, it's crucial that you comprehend the truth about your son," I implored, hoping to make her grasp the gravity of her pain.
However, she turned towards me, a surge of aggression in her voice as she vehemently retorted, "No, my dear, you have it all wrong. He's actually doing us a favor."
Her words struck me like a thunderbolt, leaving my mind in a state of blank confusion.
How could she perceive her son's actions, which involve holding her hostage and subjecting her to such devastation, as anything but grave wrongdoing?
At that moment, I realized it was wiser to remain silent and refrain from engaging further.
A few moments pass in eerie silence within the room, until unexpectedly, she breaks it with unsettling words. "We are preparing to liberate ourselves from our sins," she declares.
A sense of unease washes over me as I find myself grappling with the unfamiliar notion of being freed from our sins.
What could it truly signify? Does it imply that we are destined to be buried alive as a means of achieving redemption?
Well, I am not sure about getting free from our sins but one thing is completely sure we are going to be free from our lives if I didn't take any actions immediately.
First and foremost, this room is tightly confined, with minimal space provided in one corner for air to seep through, ensuring our survival.
Consequently, immediate death is not a threat we face in this situation.
Nevertheless, I raise my voice, shouting and pleading at the individuals on the other side of the door, desperate for a response.
Each passing second grows increasingly critical, as the urgency of troubles weighs heavily upon me.
I have no idea when these guys are going to take their next step in order to bury us alive, but still, the third person is not here until now which means I have some time to think of a plan for getting out of this place.
I find myself at a loss, unsure of the best course of action to take.
The woman beside me remains deeply engrossed in her own world, viewing this ordeal as a blessing of sorts, even finding pleasure in it.
It appears that the entire family is sick, and now, I find myself on the brink of being buried alive without any rational explanation.
If I manage to escape this twisted environment, I swear I will put the fucking bullet in their heads so that each and every one of them pay the ultimate price for their despicable actions.
Shit!
With time slipping away, every fleeting second feels like a death sentence.
While I am not entirely afraid of death itself, the notion of perishing without any justifiable cause is utterly twisted and repugnant.
I believe I am beginning to grasp the situation unfolding before me. This bunch of fools seems to believe that by carrying out these macabre rituals or whatever they may call them, they will attain heavenly rewards and absolution from their sins.
But why me? I am not a sinner. I haven't committed any wrongdoing in my life.
The only connection I have with that gun is that it was issued to me by the department, and I've kept it as if it were some kind of memento.
The last time I even pointed it at someone was at the target range, and even then, there wasn't a single bullet loaded in that damn gun.
I am really-really getting very angry, for god, sake just let me out of this place, I am definitely going to kill them, I will kill them all, every one of them.
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What is happening?
The lights flicker once more, intensifying the throbbing pain in my head.
Oh God, please help me.
I gather what little strength remains within me and shout, "Stop this madness immediately!"
My voice filled with rage and desperation, I demand their attention, "Are you even listening, you fucking sick?" I vow to the captor, "If you don't release me from this torment, I swear on my life, I will kill you, you vile bastard!
These screams in my head appeared again, tormenting me deep from inside, If I had a gun right now, I would have blown my fucking head right now
I catch sight of that woman, her face adorned with a smile.
It dawns on me that she, too, is a willing participant in this twisted scheme.
From the very beginning, their sinister objective has been focused solely on me, leaving no room for anyone else.
These bastards have meticulously orchestrated this plan, effectively ensnaring me, leaving me now to plead for mercy.
If only I had used my fucking mind, even for a fleeting moment, I might have evaded this grim fate.
But now, it is too late. Completely, trapped, one way or another way I am going to die.
"What do you think? Is this a fucking joke to you?"
Finally, she stands from her place and stares at me with some kind of peculiar smile on her face
"Listen, lady, I respect you, but if you are involved in this, I won't be able to hold myself back"
The agony I am experiencing becomes increasingly unbearable, rendering me unable to remain stationary.
My legs flail uncontrollably, moving aimlessly in every direction, while my hands clutch my ears with a desperate grip.
Yet, the ceaseless cacophony of voices persists, relentless and unyielding.
Tears well up in my eyes, streaming down my face, a testament to the overwhelming torment besieging my senses.
"Please stop it, Please, stop it"
The encompassing darkness now engulfs me entirely, rendering me utterly defenseless.
I can't help but ponder what lies ahead when I regain consciousness.
Perhaps, this very moment is my last, a bleak realization that lingers as I succumb to the depths of unconsciousness.