And again...

I woke up in a long corridor. I could not remember how I got there. But then again, after a night of thorough binging, nobody would. The place looked familiar. I slowly got up. My knees ached. I must have walked a long way. Or maybe it was the cold floor I had slept on. Crawling on my buttocks, I rested my back against the wall. I felt like crushing my head just to rid myself of the headache. It was excruciating.

It could have been early morning. Or late evening. I did not care. Keeping track of my mind was hard enough. Yet some part of the dying rationalist managed to drag out the mobile phone from my pocket. It was lifeless. Time still remained a mystery.

I was not sure whether I wanted to get up and explore. Or to just slip back to oblivion. I generally woke up after these alcoholic nights with people around. I was alone this time. I wanted to call out. But I neither had the voice nor the recollection of my allies from last night. I dismissed the idea. The most convenient option at the time.

Using the wall for support, I slowly got up. I staggered down the dimly lit corridor. The end was hazy. A few more paces and a sign that read ‘toilet’ slowly came into view. I stepped in. By then, I had somehow figured out that I wanted to take a leak.

The sight that welcomed me was gruesome. Dozens of decapitated and mutilated corpses lay in a giant pile, almost touching the ceiling. Blood was still flowing from the fresh cuts on some of the corpses. I looked at my feet. I was standing in a pool of the red fluid myself. My slippers were soaked. I trembled.

I think it was the alcohol that prevented me from dashing out of there. Instead of stepping away, I walked towards the gory mess. They were all familiar faces. Strangely, what was left of all those bodies had one thing in common. They were all in uniform. It was then that the realization struck me. This was my school. Good old Udyogamandal School. And all these lifeless bodies were friends I had known at some point of time.

My eyes scanned the room. And to my utmost horror, I saw her. She stood in the corner, with her face partially covered with hair. Her long and crumpled night dress had blood all over it. Her hands dropped lazily by her side. One of them held a dagger. Blood dripped from the tip that pointed at the floor. I couldn’t see the face clearly, but the intent was unmistakable. I fled.

I knew the way out. This was after all the place where I had spent the major part of my childhood and teenage. I ran down the corridor, to the gate that opened into the basketball court. And from there I would make my escape through the main gate onto the road, I thought. Those hundred meters were toiling miles to me. I panted heavily as I ran to the gate. And then, just like in the movies, I fell. It was as if I tumbled on a block of some supernatural brick. But fall, I did. I heard footsteps approaching me. I had no energy to get up. My feet and my hands were immobile. I turned around, and lay on my back. I saw her slowly approach me. She knelt besides me and paused. She parted her hair, revealing her bloody face. I recognised her. Her eyes were cold as she raised the dagger. She slit the scream in my throat with a neat and indifferent swipe. Clutching my throat and choking, I woke up.

It was a dream, I realized. With a huge sigh of relief, I dragged myself to the wall to rest. My head hurt as if a thousand bombs had exploded inside my skull. I could hardly open my eyes. Too much alcohol from the night before was taking its toll. My knee ached terribly as I got up. Dazed, I started walking. My destination was a faded glow at the end of the long corridor.