The Devil

-
Short Story by Nadeem Alam

A serial killer was on the loose. There had been multiple fatal incidents of knife attacks on housewives with no signs of break in or forced entry. The knife being used had a special blade called hawkbill which creates a unique cut pattern.
The local news channels and our community organization had issued warnings to all housewives not to open doors to anybody in the absence of their husbands. But was it practically possible?

 Early in the morning, children go to school followed by the husbands who leave for offices usually by eight. And then a series of people start ringing the bells. First of all comes in the maid, then milkman, the newspaper guy, mailman, vegetable seller and fish vendor. Then there is a chain of persons distributing utility bills, notices, advertisements, leaflets, and then there are couriers, sale representatives, delivery boys, beggars, and the complaint handlers of various services like plumber, electrician and carpenter etc. Not to forget the neighbors who would often come to lend something or have a chit chat.

With the fear spreading fast, housewives had stopped opening doors to everybody less the people they would trust. I live in the same neighborhood where these incidents were taking place. My husband works in an automobile manufacturing factory. I lived with his parents for couple of months but that house was over crowded. So I asked him to get us a separate place. We were lucky to get an apartment on rent in the same community where his parents also lived.

 After these incidents, my husband was too worried for my safety. For few days my sister in law shifted with us but then I forced her to move back to her parent’s residence. I ensured my husband that I will not open door to anyone at all.
     
One day, it was only 8.30 in the morning that my doorbell rang. My husband had just left. I looked through the door eye and found my neighbor Sadia standing outside. I was very careful yet I opened the door for her. She walked in very quickly looking at everything in the apartment with curiosity and amusement. We already had interacted couple of times on the stairs but it was first time she came to my home. I offered her a cup of tea which she gladly accepted. She talked and talked and in just one hour told me everything about her family and this neighborhood.
She lived here with her husband and three children who would all leave early in the morning and then she would go back to sleep till her maid arrived at about 11. She had read lot of spy novels so we also had a flashy discussion on knife incidents in the area. She believed the milkman to be the prime suspect who would sit at the door and would always try to peek inside. Moreover, he was the only male vendor who visited most of the houses on daily basis. She had also learnt that he was arrested by police and interrogated but released after few days due to lack of evidence. In her opinion, nobody leaves evidence behind in such cases. Many housewives had stopped taking milk from him and were now buying it from the market. It was not before my cat Lucifer walked into the sitting room that Sadia jumped on the sofa first and then ran outside.
  
Soon after she left, the bell rang again. I looked through the door eye and it was the milkman. I had taken milk from him couple of times before but I discontinued it due to its poor quality. He rang the bell again. Lucifer was now rubbing himself with my feet. I paused and then opened the door. There he was with his head bent down and with shivering voice he requested me to test the milk free for few days. I thought for a while and then went inside to the kitchen leaving behind the door wide open. I unlocked the upper shelf and took out an empty pot from behind my special set of Hawkbill knifes and walked back to the main door.         

Written By: Nadeem Alam

Story Published in the Weekly Mag, dated 2 June 2018.


Other short stories by same author:
Click 👇
My Million Little Pieces
Twins
The Missing Bride
The Better You
The Devil
Help (Part 1)
Help (Part 2)
Help (The End)
Lost Girl 
Shadow
My World
Doomsday
Price of Love

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My Million Little Pieces

-
Image
Short Story by Nadeem Alam I had been heart broken in the past but this time I was not sure that I will be able to reassemble my million little pieces. I still do not believe as to what had happened. I am currently passing through the denial phase. The person responsible for my this miserable and agonizing state is none other than the one I loved the most, for whom I had left everything in the world, for whom I had sacrificed my whole life. It all began in the summer of 69 when Bryan Adams was having the best days of his life and I was studying in best school of the city. One day when I was being driven back home that I saw you for the very first time. We had stopped at the red signal in Clifton where after few years Teen Talwar was constructed. I looked around and there you appeared just outside my rolled down window. Your face was pale, weak and dirty. Standing with your mother, you held her shirt with one hand and stretched the other towards me. When I looked at your mu
Read more

The Better You

-
Image
Short Story by Nadeem Alam It was getting late at night and Adnan was not back from the office yet. I always wait for him to arrive, serve him hot food and then without much talking, we go to sleep. I was lying in my room and reading some book when I heard the door opening. I jumped out of the bed and rushed outside. There he was, placing his briefcase at table and looking tired as usual. I asked him about food. Instead of any answer, he glanced at me with his loving eyes and smiled. I got confused. First he was not wearing the white shirt which I had ironed for him in the morning and secondly he never smiles at this hour of the time. However, I shredded my thoughts and went into his open arms. Later, we went out for the dinner. It was past mid night but we knew some restaurants in the city which remain open till late. We had dined in few of them before our marriage.    We worked in the same bank. He was senior to me yet we developed good understanding. I always
Read more

Cinderella

-
Image
Short Story by Nadeem Alam She had not yet opened her eyes when her mother died due to delivery complications. She was declared a curse in the family and her father married again. Her step mother always kept her away in a small store room adjacent to the kitchen. She was not even formally named. Soon she had two half siblings. A lot of celebrations were held at their arrival. She was unaware of the happenings as she was still too young to understand the life. She was made to do all the cleaning in the house. She washed clothes of her siblings, polished their school shoes and did all the dishes. She wore the old and discarded clothes of her half-sister, ate the left overs and slept on store room floor. She never questioned the disparity between her and them. Her father was too busy with work and her step mother ruled over the house. Her half-brother started calling her Masi and thus she got the name. She was fast in learning. Her siblings made her do their homework too.
Read more