Enemies: Part 2

17th Feb., 2002 –

Harsh slowly stirred awake in a hospital bed, his mind a jumble of fragmented memories. To his surprise, Heran was asleep in a chair, beside him, holding his hand, her head resting on the edge of his bed. Everything felt unfamiliar, like pieces of a puzzle that refused to fit together. He looked around the sterile room, his confusion mounting.

As Heran gradually woke up and greeted him with a smile. Harsh asked, “Who are you, lady?” Heran, taken aback and slightly amused, responded, “Don’t act like you don’t know me.” Harsh continued, guessing, “You must be nurse, right?”

Outside the room, Kajal and Sam had also been catching some much-needed sleep on chairs. However, they were jolted awake by a sudden thud from inside the room. Without wasting a moment, they rushed in, only to find Harsh on the floor, clutching his reddened cheek. Heran had given him a swift, bewildering slap in response to his teasing that she assumed. Heran stood there in shock. Sam remarked, “Oh, you’re awake,” while Kajal playfully scolded him, saying, “Idiot, they are more than awake.”

Heran’s slap seemed to serve as a catalyst, triggering a cascade of memories for Harsh. He fell into a memory pit, where vivid visions of moments with his friends played out before his mind’s eye. He saw himself driving down a coastal highway with Kajal, the breeze in their hair, escaping from the world’s troubles. He witnessed moments with Sam near Kajal’s house, with Sam joking, “You certainly do like making trouble for me, don’t you, buddy?” Memories of times in the park, especially the one where Harsh had confessed his love to Heran, flooded his consciousness.

Meanwhile, back at Harsh’s apartment, his telephone rang insistently, its shrill ring echoing through the empty rooms.

Back in the hospital room, Kajal held Heran as they both observed Harsh, who was still holding his cheek in mild shock. Sam, ever the caring friend, tried to assist Harsh, but he too was startled when he looked into Harsh’s eyes—they were no longer their usual color. Instead, they were a dark, inky black. Sam’s voice trembled as he shouted for a doctor, and Kajal, her concern mounting, asked Sam what was happening. Sam’s words were tinged with anxiety as he exclaimed, “It’s happening again.” Soon, a team of doctors rushed into the room to examine Harsh.

After what felt like an eternity, Heran, Kajal, and Sam anxiously awaited the doctor’s verdict. When the doctor finally emerged, he wore a bewildered expression. He said, “Physically, he seems fine, but I must admit, I’ve never seen anything quite like this before. Perhaps it’s best to consult someone more knowledgeable. I fear I can’t offer much further assistance.” Uncertainty hung in the air as they pondered the mysterious and unsettling change in Harsh.

After receiving medical treatment, Heran, Kajal, and Sam were finally given permission to take Harsh back to his apartment. The absence of their vehicles forced them to hail a taxi for the journey.

However, upon arriving at Harsh’s apartment building, an unsettling atmosphere seemed to fill the air. As Harsh stepped out of the taxi, a voice from behind suddenly shouted, “He’s the one from the poster!” Startled, Harsh quickly sidestepped an individual who attempted to jump at him, their outstretched hand reaching for him. Perched on the roof of the taxi, Harsh demanded, “Why are you after me?” In response, he heard a faint, alluring woman’s voice whispering, “They are after you.” Harsh’s gaze shifted, trying to locate the source of this mysterious voice.

Among the bystanders, a civilian chimed in, “Look, he has a high bounty on his head!” Another person eagerly joined in, declaring, “If I catch him, I’ll win so much money!” Sam intervened, trying to reason with them, “So you’re after money? Listen, punks, the bounty is no longer in effect.” The civilian, skeptical, questioned, “Did you catch him? Was it you?” Kajal responded with a touch of exasperation, “No, dumbass, that bounty was false; he is innocent.” The civilian found it hard to believe and sought an explanation.

Sam pulled out his phone and began streaming live news, eagerly showing it to the curious onlookers. To his surprise, as they watched, all the civilians’ noses began to bleed profusely. Kajal, alarmed by the sight, asked, “What are you showing them?” Sam glanced at the screen and suddenly, his own nose started bleeding uncontrollably. It turned out to be a highly erotic and inappropriate advertisement for a streaming platform, Naughty Network, the same as before.

Kajal was taken aback and couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. She couldn’t resist but give Sam a smack. With a hint of exasperation, she remarked, “All men are the same.” In a hurry, Sam switched to another news report, this time about the previous night’s bomb explosion in the police forensic lab. The cause remained unknown, and the investigation was ongoing. Sam commented, “The news has already moved on.”

Kajal decided to take control of the situation. She grabbed Sam’s phone, swiftly opened the news, and displayed a report confirming Harsh’s innocence. From his vantage point, Harsh, observed them from behind, felt a surge of gratitude and nostalgia reminded him of their first encounter, It was clear to him that, despite the chaos and quirks, his friends remained as dependable as ever, willing to defend him against all odds.

Harsh, overcome with emotion, jumped down and held Heran tightly. He confessed, “What did you think? I would ever forget you? You’re my first and only love in this world, and who else would fall for me?” Heran blushed and replied, “Sorry, I slapped you earlier.” Harsh, still holding her, reassured her, “Oh, don’t bring that up; it was my fault after all.”

Kajal and Sam, looking at the affectionate pair, joked, “I think the crowd has also moved on.” The civilians around them began whispering comments:

Ø “Damh, That guy is dating her, I wish I was him.”

Ø “That sweaty is with him.”

Ø “That ‘criminal’ has that cute chick with him.”

Ø “Man, I wish I was in his shoes right now.”

Kajal and Sam, unperturbed by the onlookers, let the couple have their moment.

Soon, Heran realized they were still in a public place and grabbed Harsh, urging him, “Come on, let’s go inside the apartment.” Kajal, amused, ran after them, and Sam paid the cab fare before rushing inside as well.

With their reunion, the old friends found themselves in perfect harmony, closing a chapter of their story. They declared to party all night with joy, unaware that in a distant galaxy, a new threat was emerging on the horizon, poised to disrupt their lives once again.

In a colossal red armada fleet, comprising four massive alien ships that sailed through the vast expanse of space, a skilled navigator intercepted a message. This message was encoded with an intricate script, pinpointing the precise location of a small blue planet within the Milky Way galaxy. Seated atop a formidable throne within one of the alien vessels, an enigmatic and malevolent being oversaw the operation. Flanking this central figure were two other formidable individuals, equally formidable in their alien majesty. Upon receiving the navigator’s report, the central figure’s eyes gleamed with sinister intent, and a chilling laughter reverberated through the chamber. In a voice that resonated with authority, the being ordered, “Set the course!,” determined he continued, “Finally. I’m on my way to you, King.”

Back on Earth, in front of one of the city’s finest dining establishments, the aptly named 1-Star Restaurant, Heran and Kajal arrived, exquisitely dressed for the occasion. They settled their cab fare and waited patiently outside, growing increasingly concerned when Sam and Harsh failed to make their appearance.

As Heran and Kajal eagerly awaited Sam and Harsh near the 1-Star Restaurant, Kajal’s impatience grew. She picked up her phone and called Sam, who answered and informed her that they were on their way. Kajal, her frustration evident, asked, “Where are you?” Sam replied, “We were visiting the police again.” Kajal was taken aback, not expecting this response.

After a while, a cab pulled up, and Sam and Harsh emerged from it. They immediately began looking for Heran and Kajal. Sam spotted the girls and headed toward them. Kajal couldn’t help but ask, “Where is Harsh?” Sam began to respond but turned back to see that Harsh had disappeared.

Heran, ever vigilant, spotted Harsh in the midst of an altercation. Harsh had beaten up a man who had dared to stare at Heran, and he was passionately threatening the offender. Sam quickly intervened, stopping Harsh, and reminded him, “We don’t do that here.”

Finally reunited, Sam and Harsh joined Heran and Kajal, and Sam proposed, “Let’s go party.” Kajal, however, had her sights set on the 1-star restaurant. Sam, puzzled, questioned her choice. He pointed to the smaller, geeky-looking restaurant, Otaku Hideout, next to the 5-star establishment and said, “Here we are.” Kajal expressed her dissatisfaction with the choice, describing it as a “shitty restaurant.” She then pointed at the luxurious 5-star hotel beside them, asking why they couldn’t go there instead.

Harsh, defended their current choice and stated, “What’s wrong with this place? I like it here.” Heran chimed in, trying to appease Kajal, “I’m sure they have some booze in here if that’s what you’re wondering about.” The group found themselves at a crossroads, debating where to spend their night of celebration. Kajal, despite her initial displeasure, reluctantly relented.

Amidst the banter and excitement, Sam couldn’t help but remind everyone of their recent car crashes. He quipped, “Hey, you two have already broken down two cars, and now you expect to go so high?” Kajal, her eyes gleaming with the prospect of a new car, confidently responded, “Father will surely lend me some cash or his car.”

Heran chimed in, “I also want my GTR, back too.” Their hopes were high, and they looked forward to the possibility of securing a new ride.

As Harsh was about to voice his thoughts, a group of men quickly silenced him, covering his mouth and dragging him into a nearby alley. Their intentions were clear – they were after Harsh’s bounty once again.

In the end, they decided to enter the shitty restaurant. With the situation settled and the decision to dine at the 1-Star Restaurant confirmed, Kajal’s gaze remained fixed on the dimly lit establishment, and she let out a sigh before agreeing, “Yes, let’s go in.” Unbeknownst to them, Harsh had returned from the alley, his face contorted with anger. The men who had targeted him emerged from the same alley, bearing fresh wounds and bruised egos.

Concerned for Harsh, Heran inquired, “What happened?” Harsh, frustrated, revealed, “They were after my bounty. Again.” Sam, clicking his tongue, commented, “Some people just never give up.”

With the group reunited and ready to make the most of their night, they ventured inside the restaurant. The interior was a stark contrast to the outside world, featuring multiple stories, elevators, a bar, and a plethora of private lounges for uninterrupted partying.

Sam grinned and asked, “What do you say? Not too shabby, huh?” The others looked around in awe, taking in the Anime-themed decorations, complete with posters showcasing the menu items. The place was buzzing with patrons, mostly men.

Harsh, still concerned about privacy, asked Sam, “Ah, privacy?” Sam, eager to explore the establishment, encouraged them, saying, “Come on,” and headed towards the reception. However, his attention was quickly diverted by the anime merchandise on display.

Sam stopped at the merchandise stand, surrounded by an array of cosplayers. Harsh couldn’t contain his surprise and exclaimed, “What?” Kajal, always quick to maintain order, hit Sam in the stomach and threatened, “I’ll tell Mom about this.”

Ignoring everyone, Sam started to flirt with one of the cosplayers cosplaying Skaura-chan. He was fully immersed in the moment, seemingly oblivious to the chaos around him.

Sam, not one to back down, adjusted his glasses with a determined look in his eyes and retaliated, “I’ll tell Mom the real reason you took a leave four days ago.” A bead of sweat formed on Kajal’s forehead as she muttered, “That was a long time ago.”

Heran couldn’t help but add a humorous touch, saying, “Would you believe it, Kajal raced and lost her car.” The friends shared a laugh, and Harsh, ever the optimist, eagerly inquired, “Party?” Kajal enthusiastically affirmed, “Yeah, party! Let’s commence our victory party!” Just as she spoke, a person jumped on top of Harsh, causing him to fall. Harsh couldn’t help but remark, “This isn’t going to end soon, guys?” Laughter filled the air as they made their way deeper into the restaurant, ready to embrace the night’s festivities.

Inside the dimly lit room, Detective Sneha’s tears continued to fall as she clutched the photographs of her late husband and her daughter. The weight of her decisions and the turmoil in her heart were almost unbearable.

Outside the locked door, her father, Governor Tauheed, sat with his face buried in his hands, wrestling with his own sense of responsibility and guilt. His granddaughter, Aditi, who had been watching the locked door with worry, turned to him with innocent eyes and asked, “Dada, why won’t Mom come out?”

Tauheed, his voice trembling, replied, “It’s my fault, bacha. I pushed her too hard, I tried to control her. I should have let her make her own choices.” He spoke to the empty air above, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness. “Please withdraw... Please withdraw,” he whispered, his voice filled with remorse. Then, with newfound determination, he confessed, “Yes, it was your fault.”

As the weight of their shared mistakes hung heavy in the air, the room remained locked, holding their fractured relationship and the hope that one day, they might find a way to heal the wounds they had inflicted upon each other.

In an unknown room, Sanjeev stood amidst a chaotic scene. The room, sterile and empty, held the remnants of what had once been orderly. Collapsed furniture lay scattered, and a heap of papers cluttered the dining table. Among the papers were photographs of Harsh, interspersed with a menacing image of Sameer, pierced by a kitchen knife.

Later that night, at the Police Headquarters, the empty office of Detective Vikram was cloaked in shadows. Sam slipped inside, moving quickly and silently, ensuring he wasn’t noticed. As he attempted to exit, Vikram’s assistant, a lady with sharp eyes and a determined gait, approached from the front, unknowingly obstructing his path.”Wait,” she called, her eyes catching sight of Sam.

A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as he tried to conceal a gun wrapped in a red cloth. Her tone turned somber, “I have bad news for you.”

Sanjeev, wary of being discovered, subtly raised the gun in a defensive stance. The assistant continued, her voice tinged with sadness, “Sneha will be leaving. She was a great detective. I hope you learned a lot from her.”

Relief washed over Sanjeev, and he sighed softly. “Are you okay, Sanjeev? You look under the weather,” she remarked, her concern evident.

”I’m fine,” Sanjeev replied, forcing a casual tone. “I was just thinking about our previous case.”

”Oh, that case is closed. You’ll be assigned a new one tomorrow, along with a new partner as soon as possible,” she reassured him.

Nodding, Sanjeev moved on, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. The assistant entered Vikram’s office, finding it strange that the door was locked from the outside.

Sanjeev headed to the security room, where he deftly replaced the footage with an earlier date, erasing any evidence of his presence. As he exited, he noticed the security guard approaching. Changing his path, he moved south towards his locker. There, he retrieved a cartridge of bullets.

Somewhere amidst the velvety abyss of the night, where darkness reigned supreme where not even a trace of light dared to penetrate in, an unknown figure moved with stealth. The CM’s farmhouse lay shrouded in obscurity, and the air was laden with an eerie silence. This shadowy intruder navigated through the sprawling residence, his every movement was concealed by the impenetrable depths of the night. He remained hidden in the secrets of night, waiting to be unveiled in the hours to come.

CM’s son, Mohit, was in a room with a young girl clad in gothic garments. The room was engulfed in a crimson veil and the liquor bottles laying around were tainted red by the ambient light. Their bodies intertwined as they performed intermittent sex. Their position, doggy style, and a very kinky and intimate posture. As they continued with their intercourse, the girl pleaded, “you’re going way over what you are paying.” Mohit sneered in response, “I’ll double it, just do as I say, whore.” Her moans grew louder and more desperate in agony with each passing second. Mohit viciously smacked and grabbed her buttock.

Without warning, the door creaked open ominously. Unaware of the presence that had entered, they continued with their sexual intercourse. That dark figure, armed with a gun; its barrel pointing on Mohit. The bullet pierced his skull and he collapsed onto bed, leaving behind nothing but an eerie silence. The girl looked back and screamed out in terror and panic, her words becoming desperate pleas for mercy, repeatedly repeating, “Please don’t hurt me.” Mohit’s hand continued to move even after death. The shadow figure fired two more rounds, precisely on his head. The girl falls, hides herself with bedsheet and cried, screaming at the top of her lungs as if her life depend on it. The white bedsheet quickly became stained with deep red, an expanding pool of blood spilling beneath the bed. The shadow slowly and deliberately withdrew, leaving the girl alive.

The girl, still trembling with fear, had hidden herself under the bloodstained sheets of the bed. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the terror that had overwhelmed her. She cried silently, unable to comprehend the gruesome scene she had just witnessed. Mohit lay dead beside her, his face now unrecognizable. Blood had turned the once familiar features into a horrifying mask of pain and death.

The room, once filled with lust and desire, had transformed into a chamber of horrors. The girl’s sobs were the only sound that pierced the suffocating silence.

The night continued within the confines of a private lounge at the Otaku Hideout, where Harsh, Heran, Kajal, and Sam continued their spirited celebration. The dimly lit room was adorned with traditional Japanese decor, setting the stage for a memorable evening.

Kajal, fueled up by alcohol drinks Japanese sake. She couldn’t help but make a face at the unfamiliar flavor and exclaimed, “What is this, yuck!”

In contrast, Harsh, took a sip from the sake bottle and appreciatively commented, “Oh, I like it, what are you saying?” Sam joined in, his tone serious, “That’s right, Kajal. Don’t insult the original taste of sake,” Sam then takes the bottle away talking to the cosplayer, “Will you serve me, Sakura-chan?” The cosplayer nodded silently, smiling softly as she poured the sake into the traditional ceramic cup without a sound.

Kajal, undeterred by their commentary, was determined to embrace the night’s festivities with gusto and demanded more booze.

Heran, showing concern for her friend’s well-being, gently cautioned, “Kajal, you shouldn’t drink too much.” However, Kajal, fueled by a rebellious streak and the influence of alcohol, defiantly retorted, “You aren’t my mother,” and proceeded to down a large jug of beer in one go.

Meanwhile, a patron of the restaurant noticed Sam and, with enlightened eyes, started a conversation with him. "Are you Sammer?" she asked. Then, shifting to a more serious tone, she said, "Nice to meet you." However, Sam simply sat down in a corner with sake at his side, lost in his own world, sitting beside his beloved Sakura cosplayer, who remained silent.

Undeterred, the woman handed him a business card for the restaurant, coughing slightly as she said, "While you roam, find us around." But Sam, fully engaged in his one-sided conversation with the cosplayer who only smiled and nodded in response, seemed blissfully content in his unique interaction.

Heran and Harsh were engrossed in their chess match. Heran calmly stated, “Your turn.” Harsh, with a hint of frustration, responded, “I know—I know, losing to you for the sixth time in a row isn’t exactly romantic, there are plenty of other games to choose from here.”

Heran, smiling, acknowledged, “You’re right, but you used to be so good at this. I could never win a match, so beating you now is quite exciting.” With Harsh’s next move, Heran managed to checkmate him. She declared, “Drink, that’s the rule; the loser has to take a shot.”

Harsh picked up his cup, and Heran filled it up. He downed the drink and let out a satisfied sigh, saying, “Ahh.” However, as he took that sip, he heard a faint voice around him whispering, “king.” Startled, he turned around to find Kajal nearby, unable to hold herself up and vomiting on him.

Heran, apologizes for Kajal’s predicament, quickly came to her aid, assisting her to the washroom to clean up.

Harsh, now sporting a less-than-desirable ensemble courtesy of Kajal’s mishap, looked over at Sam. Sam, in his inebriated state, was deep in conversation with Sakura cosplayer, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. Harsh couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “He has gone crazy,” as he decided to make his way to the men’s washroom to rectify his less-than-pleasant situation. The night, it seemed, was far from over.

Next day, 18th Feb., 2002 –

In the morning after their raucous night at Otaku Hideout, the group found themselves in a state of disarray. Kajal, sprawled out on a couch, called out in confusion, “Mama, where’s my punch?” Heran, lying nearby and equally disoriented, replied, “There’s no mama here to bring you your health punch.” Ignoring Heran’s response, Kajal continued to shout, “Where am I?”

Harsh, who was slowly waking up with a pounding headache, groggily inquired, “What’s happening?” Kajal, now fully awake and brimming with concern, screamed, “I’m late for work! Mama’s gonna be very mad!”

Sam, rubbing his eyes and still feeling the effects of the previous night’s revelry, sleepily opened the door to their reality and shouted, “We’re all late! It’s 11 in the morning!” This proclamation sent everyone into a frenzy. In their haste, they scrambled to pack their belongings and settled the restaurant bill, which, to their collective surprise, turned out to be nearly equivalent to Harsh’s bounty.

Heran couldn’t resist a teasing remark aimed at Harsh, saying with mock seriousness, “We should hand you over to them since the bill cost as much as your bounty.” Harsh couldn’t help but exclaim, “My bounty is down!”

Kajal, still frantic about being late for work, inquired, “Harsh, your apartment is nearby, right?” Harsh, trying to recall, replied with uncertainty, “Is it?” Heran sighed and clarified, “Yes, it is.” Sam rejoined the group at this point, and Kajal added, “And you have your car there, right?” Harsh chuckled, and Sam chimed in, “Oh, about his car... Well, it’s not working anymore.” Kajal, visibly shocked, exclaimed, “What?” Heran asked Harsh with curiosity, “How did that happen?” Sam intervened and began to explain, “Well, when he and I were on our way here, I suggested that we should drive there. But the thing is, he didn’t even remember he had a car in the first place. Secondly, he forgot where the keys were, so we searched for them and found them in the bathroom. And guess who drove the car?” Heran and Kajal, disappointed with Harsh, sighed in unison.

Kajal, still processing the situation, asked, “So he didn’t even remember how to drive?” Sam clarified, “That’s not perfectly true as he started off fine, but as the gears came in action, everything fell apart, and a truck came in front without a notice we ended up crashing to a dirt cliff aside. Then cops called us over the station, they fined us hefty too.” Harsh chimed in and said, “The fine was entirely because you pissed off the cop, and in the end, we had to book a cab to get here.” Kajal, now deeply concerned about the predicament they were in, lamented, “Now we’re stuck here, and my mother’s gonna kill me.” However, she quickly regained her determination and asserted, “None of us have a car, so it’s all on you,” pointing a finger at Sam. Sam tried to evade responsibility, saying, “Don’t look at me; I drive my mom’s car, and that’s out of the question and you know it.” Everyone collectively looked down, realizing they were in quite the predicament.

As the clock in the restaurant struck 12 and an alarm chimed, marking the passage of time, Kajal, not one to be deterred by challenges, made a suggestion, “It’s already late. Let’s party again.” Sam, ever ready for another sake, agreed with a grin, “Yeah, right, Sakura-chan.” The cosplayer Sakura spoke up, revealing a manly voice that left Sam in stunned surprise. Harsh chimed in with a mischievous tone, “I won’t play chess this time,” to which Heran responded confidently, “No big deal. I’ll beat you at any game.” With their spirits renewed, the friends settled in for another round of festivities, determined to make the most of the day ahead.

As the old friends continued their lively celebration, unaware of the unfolding events in the world beyond, the news of CM Pranav’s son’s tragic death played out on TV screens in CM Pranav’s office. The young man had been discovered dead that morning in his farmhouse, the victim of three gunshot wounds to his head. The investigation team was already at the scene, and Detective Sanjeev could be seen standing stoically behind CM Pranav on the television screen. Consumed by a mix of grief and anger, CM Pranav’s reaction was intense. He unleashed his fury, hurling objects around the room, pounding his desk, and eventually tearing apart a marriage proposal letter left on desk before shouting with determination, “You will regret it.”

On one of the office walls, a framed photograph depicted four young men, their arms draped casually around each other’s shoulders. Among them were Arjun, Jafri, Tauheed, and an unfamiliar face from their youthful days, frozen in a moment of camaraderie and friendship.

Meanwhile, in the vast expanse of space, an armada fleet raced forward at incredible speeds, defying the very laws of light and physics. The vessels moved so swiftly that they seemed to warp the space around them. On the largest ship at the rear, a colossal alien being sat upon a throne, a stark contrast to the relentless pace of his fleet. He coughed up pink blood, and his advisor, a wizard-like figure standing to his right, advised him not to dwell on his thoughts.

The alien lord, fueled by a potent mix of anger and desperation, shouted, “Stop it!” and declared, “I am dying because of him. I will eat him alive.” Behind his imposing throne were numerous cages, each containing creatures with glowing eyes. At the center of it all, in a colossal cage, rested a dragon-like creature, its eyes ablaze. The alien lord couldn’t contain his manic cry as he issued fervent orders, “Move faster, my fleet!”

Meanwhile, in a lower basin, a multitude of dwarf-like aliens reveled in the moment, making a raucous noise, and brandishing their spears. Their celebration echoed throughout the ship, adding to the chaos that surrounded them. Unbeknownst to the world below, a formidable force was mobilizing in the depths of space, threatening to disrupt the lives of those who called Earth their home.

>> Here ends the 6th chapter...