Friday, September 7, 2007

  • the savage does not make much sense
  • the killer will try to kill mr. anticue

cranium felt happy with himself. at last another lead. the past few weeks had been frustrating, the scarlet assassin had gone into hiding but the country was awash with pseudo scarlet assassins. scarlet letters were a common occurrence in mailboxes as chain mails. it was also a rage within email servers carrying gruesome titles such as if u dont fwd this u die, i hate your guts, so does the scarlet assassin and you are dead in red.
cranium felt all this hype surrounding the scarlet assassin was making a mockery of his department and him. the media were also not sparing his inability and there had been calls for his head.this was his last chance for ing his worth and solving the case.
the assassin had this time chosen mr.anticue, the greatest collector the world has ever known. he lived in his ancestors mansion, a fine decadent estate.
the locals held him with fear for his estate of the bizzare was a taboo to them. locals refused to work there. it was rumoured among the three sons one had turned out be mad. the other two were useless louts. his wife had died and the grief had made him even more cranky leading to further bizzare expeditions. one such expedition had given him a strange/exotic illness that had making him more of a recluse.
cranium looked forward to reaching the estate, the country always made him feel better. at that moment neptuno was also packing his bags and heading towards anticue's house for his ears had farheared that the next murder would occur at the estate of anticue.

Thursday, September 6, 2007

and this is where i come in.
i being the man friday of the famous collector mr anticue. i being discovered on sunday but still called friday owing to my famous predecessor. i having received the scarlet letter addressed to my master foretelling his death. i who contacted cranius and neptuno as instructed by my master. i who will protect my master from the scarlet assassin.

Sunday, September 2, 2007

the other cranium or rather the ear that was straining itself was that of augustin neptuno . his bald plate glistened with sweat, was working overtime. his eyes were closed. a letter was placed near his right ear and a soft cooing sound was emerging from him at regular intervals.
he was using his gift,the gift of far hearing. there are people in the world who are far sighted some possess something called sixth sense there are a few odd ones who can start a fire but there was only one neptuno who could hear what others could not. it was all because of his ears. they resembled that of an over sized cauliflower. being endowed with such kind of satellites as ears neptuno had the unique gift of far hearing making him capable of tuning into frequencies of materials i.e. a piece of paper placed near his ear would tell him how it was made from pulp, the factory that it was made in, what was done to it, to whom it was sold, who had written on it et al thanks to his deconstructive and re constructive ear.
with every gift comes responsibility and a higher probability of being labelled as a freak.
in neptuno's case the former was given a lower weight resulting in the the latter being given a higher weight. his childhood had been miserable and being the weakest of the lot also did not help. it all cumulated in knowing the secrets of his tormentors and using it against them which resulted in being called freaky cabbage ears.
his snooping activities led him towards a career of a private detective. it had been a successful career till now, investigating secret liaisons and adulteries of the rich and famous and he already had a long list of satisfied clients.
it was when he was at the crest of his career that the scarlet killer became famous and the ears of neptuno pricked in attention upon hearing the methodology of the killer resulting in the soft cooing noise that was emerging from.
neptuno's present location was at his office situated in the middle of press and a carpenter.the carpenter used to go knock knock knock throughout the day while the press went clickety clack clack clack throughout the night. in the midst of such noise neptuno could fine tune his skills sothat no other object's frequency reached his ears except the one placed near his ear. sometimes the headlines of the next day reached him or the history of the wood being used in the new cupboard reached him but that could be kept out as he was doing now. his right ear had a scarlet letter(procured from illegal sources) near it and in the mind of neptuno flashed the images ofit being kept in a police file, the policeman handling it, the ill fated reader, the inside of a mailbox but this was where the trail came to end. it was all blank before that. his left ear had also given him the same information.this had never happened before. neptuno was puzzled leading to the cooing sound to relax him and remind him of happy times. all the time he was thinking
why could not neptuno's skill of far hearing help him?
who was this scarlet assasin? coo coo coo...

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Ode to The City

The city where no one ever sleeps,
All of them awake in their own dreams
Everyone in their own little webs,
Scurrying like spiders away into the corners,
Spinning their paths away from each other
Without a pause or break.

Hear the trees talk as they sway,
Of sorrow and pain swept away,
Under the skin, out of sight.

Look at the streetlamps as they blink,
Mute witness to the grief
Lend an ear, and you will hear
The countless sighs of despair.

Take a walk down the asphalt roads,
The empty lanes and the dark alleys,
Scarred, pockmarked streets.
The creased, tired eyes have gone to sleep.

Breathe the cold, peaceful air
Gently carrying the inward screams,
Ones that never escape the walls
Muttered prayers, and unanswered calls
For a kindly word or a glance

Stop at the crossroads where,
Where the roads are chosen,
And the people are sorted
The weak from the strong
The rich from the poor
The dreamer from the dull
And each goes peacefully to the
Grave of his own choosing.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

  1. the killer likes red
  2. he is very good

police detective howzard cranius stared at the two points he had noted down. being the foremost detective in his department and being delegated the responsibility of handing in the killer, he was at his wit's end. the scarlet assassin, as the press called him had killed till now ten and had spawned a plethora of admirers. the press loved his style of forecasting and satanic cults had hailed him as the next anti-christ. pretenders were also awash everywhere and in the midst of such confusion/fear/terror mr cranius was straining his cranium.

being the best in any field is always strenuous and howzard felt the same. he had been given the offer of a cushy promotion with no field work if he solved the case or demotion and obscurity if he failed. choices is what makes one's life howzard, he had been lucky till now and logic dictated him to take the plunge and so he did.

but he was clueless...

little did he know that at that moment another cranium was also straining itself to solve the case and was also facing the same helplessness.

...and there were more to follow

the rice family and their horses mourned for mr. rice the once upon a time famous horse breeder whose fortunes had taken a cruel turn after the injury of his favourite horse the sliver lice while racing at the national derby. a scarlet letter had reached the rice family a day before the death(of mr. rice) stating the time, location and the cause of death which was at the hands (or mouth) of his sliver lice. the bizzare death of a horse ripping off the head of his master made national news but the scarlet letter was still kept under wraps by a very puzzled police.

the noted chef al bizario owner of a fancy downtown restaurant and the host of a famous cookery show also became a victim of the scarlet letter. while filming his cookery show in the pacific islands and showcasing the culinary cuisines of the erstwhile cannibalistic tribe whoeats he became their main course. the filming crew discovered his remains near the traditional pitfire. his death made international news straining international relations with the whoeats who mantained the stand that they had not even touched bizario. the scarlet letter which had reached his mailbox but not had been opened, as usual predicted the death. a puzzled and embarassed police intensified their investigation.

the scarlet letter became famous after the death of newsman carl brosky. the famous sunday tonight show hosted by him had the largest trp's and the audience witnessed his horrific death first hand, after a spotlight from the set fell on him. he had recieved the scarlet letter just before the show and thinking of it as a joke, made a countdown to his death. a frozen look of terror was registered on his face when the spotlight was removed from him.

the police at last admitted the existence of scarlet letters and soon a reign of fear spread through the land. more bizzare deaths followed and this is where the past ends and the present begins for the past is the present.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

the killings

started a few months back. an insignificant/innocent looking letter popped up at the mailbox of a certain mr. jones. the contents of the letter were a bit startling as scrawled on it in scarlet was the following

subject : mr. jones
death : day after tomorrow
place : lame duck pub
time : 7:32 p.m.
activity before death : drinking la morioso rum


mr. jones secretary nonchalantly disposed the letter in the dustbin and counted in her mind that this was the 31st death threat recieved after another false weather prediction. being a weather man was not a nice job and being the secretary of the head of a weather station was not a rewarding job either as she had realised.
she realised three days later that disposing letters containing death threats was also not a wise idea, during her testimony to the police.
the late mr. jones had passed away the previous day at 7:32 p.m. while visiting the lame duck pub. he had been poisoned, the poison was in the la morioso rum.
but who had killed him?
the killings had begun...