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Its very very interesting.. You are doing an awesome job.. Cant wait for next chapter.. Plz update soon
Its very very interesting.. You are doing an awesome job.. Cant wait for next chapter.. Plz update soon
The Stalker - Part 4
Kabir found himself at Pooja's doorstep in less than 15 minutes. The light drizzle had managed to evoke a slight glisten on his black rain jacket and had left a few locks of his hair scattered messily across his forehead. October was always a chilly month in India. Shivering, he zipped his jacket a little higher and rang the doorbell.
He was greeted shortly afterward by a flustered Pooja. For a moment, Kabir was so stunned at the sight in front of him that he forgot why he had even shown up. Today, she wore a light pink kurti top with black jeans and summery flip flops. Her long hair tumbled back against her waist and the loose strands were kept in line with the help of a white head band. He couldn't ever remember her dressed so simply. She had always maintained her heavy saris during her time as Jahnvi Mittal and even after she had acknowledged her identity as Pooja, she had only worn the most expensive designer clothes. Seeing her in this minimalist avatar was new for Kabir. For the first time it struck Kabir that Pooja was stunningly beautiful.
"Kabir, come in." She said, moving away from the door to allow room for him to enter. She gazed past him, outside, as if searching for someone. Failing to find anyone behind Kabir, she sighed and closed the door, taking in Kabir's appearance for the first time.
"Towel. I'll grab a towel for you," she said, noting his wet clothes. Saying so, she moved away from him and raced up the stairs to the washroom. Kabir shoved his hands into his pockets, gazing wondrously at the house that once used to be his. If he hadn't known the truth, he wouldn't have recognized the house as his at all. She had changed the very essence of the home. The wallpaper had changed, furniture had been renovated, walls had been repainted and the entire house had been reorganized. It was as if she couldn't stand having any sign of the Mittals in her home at all. And for some reason, that hurt.
He let out a breath, trying to focus on the issue at hand. The stalker. Whoever he was would settle for nothing less than Pooja's murder. And in all probability, he would show up tonight. And when he showed up, Kabir wanted to be prepared. He planned on pulling an all-nighter tonight. He walked into the kitchen and took a seat at the dining table. He thought back to the latest note that he had discovered.
If only your soul was as pretty as your face
I might not have to kill you
See you tonight
The hatred behind the words was clearly evident to Kabir. He still had the note safety tucked into the pocket of his jeans. And he wasn't going to let Pooja find it at any cost. Although she was putting up a brave front, Kabir had a slight inclination to believe that Pooja was secretly terrified of whoever this monster might be. In such a state, the last thing she needed was something else to worry her. No. He would keep this note to himself.
Just as he finalized this decision, Pooja bounded down the steps, towel in hand. "Here, dry yourself off." She said, handing the towel to him. "If you get sick tonight, I might end up being your bodyguard rather than the other way around." She joked. For a moment, he thought he saw a faint smile line her lips. Had he ever even seen her smile before? He didn't think so. But it seemed that she noticed her the movement of her lips just as soon as he had, for, in less than a millisecond, she sobered once more. Kabir grabbed the towel from her hand, muttering a quiet 'thanks'.
Pooja walked into the kitchen, calling to him from behind. "I'm making myself a cup of tea. I wouldn't mind making another cup for you if you want." After a moment, she added: "It's not as if your financial status currently allows for such luxuries. So enjoy it while you can." Kabir felt a slight pang of irritation. Did she always have to be such a b*itch?
"You know, Pooja" He began tersely. "It's not a crime to show gratitude for a change. I didn't come here for myself tonight, I came here for you."
"I didn't ask you to come." Pooja replied sharply. Kabir closed his eyes, reminding himself that Pooja wasn't aware of this Stalker's true intentions or the very real threat behind the latest note (or so he feared). A few moments later, she stormed back Kabir, placing a warm cup of tea in front of him. "I don't let beggars leave empty handed from my home," she added sweetly.
Kabir shook his head, trying to ignore the irritation that she was clearly trying to cause him. "Look, Pooja. This stalker. If we want to find out who he is...and why he's targeting you...we're going to need to dig a little deeper than surface level. I want to know about your past. Your family, friends, any enemies you may have had back in the day...anything of significance."
Pooja's eyes widened and she couldn't help but stare at him in surprise. Kabir's eyes narrowed. "What?" He asked, exasperated. "Why are you looking at me like I've grown two heads?"
She shook her head slowly, as if trying to understand what had just happened. "Nothing. It's...It's just...you said you...you said you WANTED to know about my past. You want to know about me. It's...no one has ever asked about me or my past..." Kabir's own mouth closed in shock. "People just come to their own conclusions about me," Pooja mumbled. Her eyes were downward and her fingers played with the threads on the table cloth.
No one has ever asked about me or my past. No one has ever asked about me or my past. Kabir heard her words repeated over and over again in his mind. How selfish had his family really been? Had they really never thought of her as a person? Had they REALLY never thought BEYOND the betrayal caused by Pooja to themselves? Had they been so concerned with only their pain, their ache, their betrayal that they hadn't considered for even a moment the kind of pain and trauma it would take to cause a girl like Pooja Sharma to become Jahnvi Mittal?
He remained quiet until Pooja finally met her eyes with his. "I want to know about you Pooja." He said firmly. "I want to know everything about your past, about all your pain, about what my family did to you, about why you became Jahnvi Mittal...and most importantly...about what makes you YOU."
She was quiet for a few moments. Just when Kabir began to think that Pooja wouldn't speak to him, she started. "My papa was the best man I have ever known. He was my hero. My inspiration. And the first man that I have loved. He was also one of the best doctors in the country because, unlike most, he worked because he loved his job - not because he loved the money. He wanted to help people. He wanted people to be able to use his medicine."
She swallowed, taking a swig of her tea before speaking. "Your father," she began, her voice shaking. "Was my father's close friend. My father was simple at heart. He trusted everyone. He was the kind of person to believe that all people were inherently good - only their circumstances were bad. He trusted your father too. And that's what ultimately became the end of him."
She looked at Kabir with a bitterness that he had seen once too frequently in her eyes. "Your father was selfish. He was greedy. And all he cared about was money, fame and success. He killed my father...burned him in his own house. He was going to kill me and my sister as well in the same house, but my father found a way for us to escape. PK Mittal stole the formula for the medication my father created and sold it for high profits. Like your father, the company he sold it to couldn't care less about patients. They screwed up the formula, resulting in the death of thousands and thousands of people. Fearing for his reputation, PK Mittal accused my father of wrongly creating the medication before his death, which was labelled as a suicide. My father was defamed. People began to hate his very name and anyone associated with it. They would throw rocks and shoes at my sister and I as we aimlessly wandered the streets looking for our next meal."
Kabir felt his heart grow heavy. The pain she had endured was unimaginable to him. He could see her blinking back tears as she continued her story. "No one wanted to house two homeless girls whose father had been rumored to be responsible for thousands and thousands of deaths. People cursed us. Told us we would never live happy lives. They said they felt sorry we had made it out alive and that we should have burned to death with our father." She clenched and released her hand as if searching for some kind of composure.
"I didn't even have the luxury to die, Kabir." She cried, suddenly, her hands covered her eyes so he couldn't see her tears. But he knew they were there. "I had to support Rani . I had to make sure she was fed. I had to make sure she lived. And so, I couldn't die." She whispered. "We were close to starvation before Amma found us. My father supported Amma when no one else in the society had. And she was probably the only one who still regarded my father in high esteem. She took us in. Fed us, clothed us, and provided a roof over our heads. Till date, she is the only person I trust, other than my own sister."
Her eyes flashed upward to Kabir, a new kind of energy lighting them. "I've been planning Jahnvi Mittal for as long as I can remember. Children dream about meeting film stars, boyfriends, and fancy trips. You know what I dreamt of Kabir? Murdering your father." Kabir winced at the cold expression on her face. He knew he had no right to feel pain at Pooja's words. His father deserved nothing more than Pooja's hate. But still...PK had been Kabir's father. And strictly as a father, Kabir had had no qualms against PK. As a person...that was a different story.
"I began work with your father. I gained his trust to such an extent that he didn't think it right to take any executive decisions without my help. I destroyed your father with the same trust that he used to destroy my father." She shrugged. "In my book, it's fair and square."
Kabir shook his head. "But why did you use my brother Dhruv? And Chachi, my mom...dadaji..." She stared at him for a moment before bursting out in laughter. "Oh Kabir, do you REALLY think a man like PK Mittal can carry out such a huge calamity...murdering thousands of people and framing my father...without at least SOME support from his family members? Your mother, chachi and grandfather aren't as innocent as you seem to think they are. They knew everything your father did. And they. kept. quiet. Didn't say a word." Her eyes glazed with pure disgust. "They knew EVERYTHING. They had kids of their own and yet they were fine with seeing two young girls murdered. They deserved exactly what I gave them Kabir and I wouldn't take back ANY of my actions." She paused for a moment. "As far as Dhruv is concerned...he was collateral damage. Had to be done. While I'm sorry for what I put him through, I'm not sorry for doing it." She waved her hand, moving away from the topic. She wasn't in the least bit concerned about Dhruv.
Kabir was appalled. With everything Pooja had revealed, he was unable to think straight. His family? His WHOLE family? Involved in such a big ploy...for MONEY?! He thought of his mother. The one who had always loved him, cared for him...her lap was where he had placed his head after a long day to gain some peace of mind. Because he had thought his mother knew everything. His mother could never be in the wrong. She was always the one with the right advice. She always knew what to do.
He thought of his chachi. Yes, she was loud, slightly obnoxious and maybe irritating. But really, he had never considered her capable of anything more than ruining someone's mood at the dinner table with her meaningless talks. But murder? Supporting his father in not only one, but thousands of murders?
He thought of his dada ji. He was the eldest family member. The whole family loved, respected and trusted him, including Kabir. No one had the guts to go against dada ji's words. Could he have been involved in something as disgusting as murder?
Were they all criminals?
And suddenly, he was able to see himself clearly in Pooja's shoes. The house was never theirs to begin with. If her father hadn't been murdered by his own, this house would have belonged to them. The name and fame that belonged to the Mittals today would have belonged to the Sharmas. Pooja was simply taking back what she thought she had always been entitled to. And what was he doing? Did he even really want back a house that had a foundation built on thousands of bodies?
Before he could think any further in this regard, the lights in Pooja's house began to flicker. Both Kabir and Pooja turned their eyes upward and then to each other. Kabir could clearly see the panic written on her face. The patter of rain against the window grew heavier. "There's a storm coming," Kabir said, trying to remain as calm as possible for Pooja's sake. "It's because of bad weather."
Pooja nodded, replacing the worried expression on her face with false brevity. "I'm not scared." In spite of saying so, she pushed her chair back and slowly wandered over to Kabir's side. Kabir couldn't help the slight smirk that emerged on his face. She folded her arms, looking cross. "I wanted to make sure YOU weren't scared, Kabir Mittal. That's why I came over to your side. You're going to be of no use to me if you pass out due to fear. What kind of bodyguard would you be then?" Kabir nodded, trying to regain composure and hide his smile.
"Of course. I'm shaking with fear. Thanks so much for the consideration. I think you might need to stick close to me for the rest of the evening. You know, in case I get scared." She nodded, feeling too anxious to notice his sarcasm. "Now, Miss Pooja Sharma, if you don't mind grabbing a few candles from the kitchen drawer? I think we might experience a power outage soon." Pooja gazed at him, worriedly. "Really? You think the lights will go out?!" Her fingers flew to her mouth and she began biting her nails. Kabir rolled his eyes. "That's generally a thing that happens when the weather is bad, Pooja. Come on, I'll come with you. We'll get candles and matches and be prepared if and when something happens."
Pooja followed Kabir hesitantly into the kitchen, making sure to remain within a foot's distance from him. As they left the dining room, what they failed to notice was a man wearing a black rain coat standing just outside the window, observing their every move. In the midst of the thunder, the shadowed man let out a chuckle and gripped the knife a little tighter in his hand.
Rain, thunder, and now he was going to cut the power cable. What a perfect setting for a murder.
He grinned. "This will be fun".
End
Hi everyone! Thank you so much for all your responses to this story! It's what has inspired me to continue writing! This story will probably have one or two more parts in total! So we're definitely nearing the climax! Hope you enjoyed! :D
Also, good news! This story is also now on Wattpad! https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/196378915-the-stalker
Thank you for all the love and support! <3
Loved it. Again. Cant wait to read more.
Youve got a beautiful way with words :)
Pooja's past 😟😟 kabir need to know it soon in show also,, but alas makers have different idea it seems ,,but here kabir knowing everything & their funny banters,, everything was cute ..& the stalker, want to see how he end up in trouble 😏😏
Originally posted by: PRACHU13
Update next part soon 😀😀
Hahah I love the enthusiasm so much🤣 Am in the process of writing the update now😉 This will be a terrifying one..😈
Originally posted by: SunshineMk
Loved it. Again. Cant wait to read more.
Youve got a beautiful way with words :)
Thank you soo much darling!🤗 This is such a compliment! Will be updating the next part soon!!!
What are we at, part 5? 🤣
Part 5
Streaks of white illuminated the dark blanket of nightfall in intermittent bursts. Like bright flashes of a camera, the lightning seemed to swallow the entire world with its brilliance. Each flash was followed by the dangerous growl of thunder, as if the earth itself was crying out in pain from the onslaught of lightning.
The lights in Pooja's home had flickered their last about 15 minutes prior and had given up their fight against the unrelenting weather. While Pooja's left hand was fixed firmly around a single lit candle, her right hand was secured in Kabir's. Though he wasn't her favorite individual, Pooja felt a sense of immense gratitude that Kabir had decided to stay the night at her house. With both Amma and Rani in Delhi, finalizing a company deal, Pooja would have been completely alone on a night like this. And just the mere thought resulted in goosebumps that raced up her arms.
Another burst of thunder rippled through the air. Pooja's hold on Kabir's hand tightened. "Don't worry," he said quietly. "It's just bad weather." He guided her to the sofa and took a seat beside her. In the orange glow of the candle, Kabir noted her anxious expression. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a questioning gaze. "Are you okay, Pooja?"
She swallowed and her nervous eyes flickered towards his. "I'm scared, Kabir." She finally admitted. "Ever since my papa died, I haven't been able to sleep alone, in the dark. I have dreams." She whispered. "Terrible ones. I see my father stuck in that house. He's burning." She turned to look at Kabir, whose face had grown hard. "He's calling out to me for help. Yelling my name. But its his eyes that terrify me. There are only black and empty sockets where his eyes should be. And he raises his arms towards me, telling me to come to him." Her voice shook at the memory. "I used to have these dreams every night until Amma began sharing a room with me."
Kabir felt as if a knife had been gauged through his heart. He hadn't realized. He hadn't realized any of it. He hadn't seen the depth of the trauma she had endured. For the first time, he saw more than just the stubborn and angry girl he had grown so accustomed to seeing. He saw a woman who was broken - inside and out. She was afraid of the dark. She was afraid of sleeping alone. She still had nightmares. She put up a brave front in public, but inside, she was still that terrified young girl who had been sentenced to die in a flaming house. He gazed at Pooja, feeling his heart warm with an unexpected affection. "You won't have nightmares tonight," he declared, firmly. "I'm not leaving you for even a moment."
In the glow of the candle, he thought he saw a sliver of a smile line Pooja's lips. He looked at her. Her eyes seemed tired. She looked as if she had aged 10 years. She looked fatigued and defeated. She's tired of pretending, Kabir realized, suddenly. She's tired of pretending to be strong in front of everyone. Without understanding what he was doing, his fingers slipped between hers and his grip on her tightened. "You don't have to pretend anymore, Pooja." he murmured. "Not in front of me. I see you."
I see you. It felt as if someone had placed ice on Pooja's burning wounds. I see you. Was it possible that someone had taken the time to recognize Pooja for what she was? Was it possible that he ACCEPTED her for what she was? Her heart swelled. This was a feeling she wasn't accustomed to. The world had taunted her, scorned her, despised her and had been disgusted with her when they realized she was the daughter of Ashok Sharma. No one had thought about HER as a person. Her own identity had been joined with her father. No one had seen her for HER. Except Kabir. I see you. She closed her eyes, relishing the peace that his words brought her heart. Could she find a friend in Kabir after all?
She suddenly felt exhausted. She couldn't find it within her to think of these new feelings towards Kabir might mean. About why she was beginning to think of Kabir...a member of the Mittal family, as her friend. She was too tired. Kabir was right. She didn't want to pretend anymore. She was tired of putting up a constant pretense in front of everyone. Her eyes fluttered open and closed. But she couldn't fight sleep for much longer. She couldn't remember when she had last felt such peace. She closed her eyes and without quite understanding what she was doing, leaned her head against Kabir's shoulder. His lack of objection further comforted Pooja.
"I'm sorry, Pooja." Kabir murmured after a prolonged silence. "I'm sorry for everything my family put you through. Neither you, nor your father deserved any of it." He swallowed, trying to find his words. "If I could turn back time to fix the past, trust me, I would." Pooja nodded against his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault." She whispered finally. "I always knew it wasn't your fault." Her hand slid to his, and she tightened her hold. "You're not your father. And I'm sorry for what I put you and your brother through as well." After a moment of quiet, she finally asked timidly, "Will you ever be able to forgive me?" He was silent, lost in thought, until he finally finished with, "Only if you can forgive my family."
Neither responded. There were no words that needed to be said. Kabir knew Pooja wasn't quite at the stage to be able to forgive his family, and maybe she never would be. And neither was Kabir at an emotional stage to be able to forgive the destruction that Pooja caused to him, his brother, Jay and Sonali. But this was a start. They were starting to understand each other. And that was more than either could ask for.
Pooja sighed, closed her eyes, and tucked her head further into Kabir's shoulder with her hand still tightly clasped around Kabir. She barely realized when sleep came. Kabir simply sat there, trying his best not to move, so as to not disrupt her sleep. He didn't know how long he had sat there, just looking at her, wondering what their relationship was turning into. If it hadn't been for the stiffness of his back, he might have stayed staring at her curiously for the remainder of the night. But he needed to move. And so, he quietly moved his shoulder, placing a hand against her head to support her. Tucking his arms under her knees, he lifted her. Her head fell against his chest and she uttered a soft sigh of discomfort at being moved before her hands flew to Kabir's shirt, clasping it for support. Effortlessly, he walked up the stairs to Pooja's bedroom, placing her on the bed. He pulled up the blanket till it covered her chest. Noting her sleeping figure and realizing that Pooja was scared of the dark, he decided to run back downstairs to grab the candles.
As he bounded down the stairs, he heard the quiet chimes of his phone ringing. He frowned, picking it up. Unknown number?
"Hello?" He answered.
The maniacal laughter that he was greeted with made his blood run cold. "How much extra do you get paid to stay with her for a night?" The voice spewed, menacingly. The hair on Kabir's arms raised. "Who is this?" He asked sharply.
"Oh Kabir, look at you, as usual, asking all the wrong questions." The voice was distorted. It was a male, likely in his mid-thirties, Kabir could make out. But he was clearly using a voice modulation device so as to not be discovered. "Let me help you out," the man said with a cold laugh. "The better question would be 'where are you'." Kabir was silent. "Where do you think I'm calling from Kabir?" He didn't speak. He felt his face growing pale. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed a candle and ran up the steps, two at a time. "Pooja!" he screamed. He entered her bedroom, but found the bed empty. He had been gone for two minutes. TWO MINUTES! Where had she gone?!
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!" Kabir growled into the phone.
"Oof," came the reply. "Someone has an attitude problem."
"WHERE is POOJA you son of a b****?!" Kabir screamed.
"Relaaaxxx," the man answered with a cold chuckle. "She's safe. For now. But see, the thing is, Kabir...you were never part of my plans. You weren't supposed to get involved. But of course, the hero that you are, you just HAD to step in didn't you?" His voice grew more aggressive with every word. "But Kabir, you now how that makes me feel? That makes me feel ANGRY. Angry enough to hurt someone. Maybe even kill them. Wouldn't that be a twist in the tale, Kabir? The man that came to save Pooja Sharma became the cause of her death!" He added dramatically.
"Please. Don't hurt her." Kabir pleaded, lowering his own tone. "What is it you want? Look, we can talk. We can talk about all of this. You don't have to turn to murder."
"Oh, but Kabir, I do..." the man said, apologetically. "It's so sad that it has to be this way. I feel such an urge to kill her that I can barely resist!" He paused for a moment before adding, "But you know what? I appreciate your efforts. Since you've been scrambling around her all night waiting desperately for my arrival, I'll make you a deal. Let's play a game. Hide and seek. I'll give you 10 minutes to find Pooja. If you do, you'll see her alive. If not, well, it's game over for her my friend!" He laughed maniacally. This man is insane. Kabir suddenly realized, feeling his heart race. 10 minutes to find Pooja. 10 minutes. Where was she? Where had he taken her?
He was snapped out of his thoughts by the man's voice.
"I hope you're ready, Kabir Mittal. Because your countdown begins now."
End
Aahhhh This was such a fun part for me to write! I thoroughly enjoyed writing it and I hope you guys enjoy it just as much reading it!!! Love you all!!! <3
Again, you can find all my works on Wattpad as well: https://www.wattpad.com/user/dreamsneverend
Fantastic! Outstanding! You are a fabulous writer. Witty and so great with your choice of words. The whole convo between Pooja and Kabir is so beautifully described. It’s amazing how you wrote that part without making it sound all mushy and romantic. It was more heart to heart.. like when someone who is so broken that they don’t trust themselves when it comes to opening up about the dark side of them but they do to that one person who quietly sneaking into their world :). That part of your writing??? that is talent my friend. Keep it up and can’t wait for the not chap!
Originally posted by: Honey_berries
Fantastic! Outstanding! You are a fabulous writer. Witty and so great with your choice of words. The whole convo between Pooja and Kabir is so beautifully described. It’s amazing how you wrote that part without making it sound all mushy and romantic. It was more heart to heart.. like when someone who is so broken that they don’t trust themselves when it comes to opening up about the dark side of them but they do to that one person who quietly sneaking into their world :). That part of your writing??? that is talent my friend. Keep it up and can’t wait for the not chap!
Thank you sooo much dear <3😳 This is a really big compliment for me!!! Will be updating the next part very soon! Thank you once again for all the love and support🤗
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