INTRO 00:00:00
Welcome to OBSCURUS, your weekly dose of paranormal fiction. Every Wednesday OBSCURUS features new short stories and serialized novels written by novelist, screenwriter, and voice-over artist Biswajit Banerjee. The realm of the paranormal stretches far beyond the usual horror story. So, while you will get to listen to lots of ghost stories on this podcast, there will also be many tales of lesser-known paranormal themes. To get us started, here's your host Biswajit Banerjee.
HOST TALK 00:00:47
Welcome back to OBSCURUS, the podcast that delves into the depths of the unexplained. I'm Biswajit Banerjee, your host, ready to guide you through the final installment of our enthralling narrative, THE DRUNKARD'S WARNING. In the last episode, our senior police inspector's encounter at the morgue left us on the edge of our seats, surrounded by an air of mystery and the unknown.
As we step into Part 3, the story reaches its climax. The inspector resumes his duties, only to find himself entangled in a web of complexities that challenge his understanding of the events that transpired. This conclusion of our tale promises a journey through layers of intrigue and the unforeseen, leaving us to ponder the fine line between reality and the extraordinary.
Before we embark on this final chapter, I invite you to explore more mysteries at biswajitbanerjee.com. Also, visit obscurus.buzzsprout.com to access all episodes of OBSCURUS, including this captivating story.
We sincerely appreciate your support. Our upcoming presence on Patreon is an exciting opportunity for you to join us in these explorations. Please remember to subscribe to our YouTube channel for the latest updates and insights.
Now, let's dive into the concluding part of THE DRUNKARD'S WARNING. What will the inspector uncover in this final chapter? How will his recent experiences influence his perception of reality? Join me as we unravel the last threads of this intricate tale. Let's begin.
THE DRUNKARD’S WARNING PART 3 00:03:22
Written and Performed by Biswajit Banerjee
00:03:44
The day I joined, the buzz at the police station appeared much lower than on usual days. A lady constable at the reception welcomed me.
"Hello, Sir, how's your health now?"
"Better, I guess, Ms. Kulshreshtha."
"It is good to see you back, Sir."
"I, too, feel good to be back."
"The head office has decided to give you light duties this month."
"That is kind of them, I must say. Is Prasad in the office?"
"Yes, Sir, he is in his cubicle."
"Thanks, Ms. Kulshreshtha."
"You are welcome, Sir."
***
00:04:28
I heard him talking to someone when I was close to the back of Prasad's cubicle. Prasad's mobile had a powerful speaker, and the voice from the other side was loud and clear. The senior constable was unaware of my presence and spoke his heart out. It wasn't difficult to tell that Prasad was talking to Vasant, the guard at the morgue of the National Medical College Hospital.
"Do you think he can find out the truth?" Prasad said.
"Well, he can't unless you choose to tell him the truth," Vasant responded from the other side.
"What a fool we made out of him, didn't we?"
"Yes, we did. You should have seen his face, Prasad."
"Good, we taught him a lesson. He deserved it."
"But he never misbehaved with you, did he?"
"No, but he always talks to me with a quiet air of authority. I hate him."
"Now, you must be satisfied."
"Yes, I am. Tell me again how he reacted when the whispers started."
"How many times would you make me repeat the story?"
"The sweet taste of revenge is always welcome, Vasant."
"Before the whispers started, my projector started working in the cold room. The strange images in my video file looked dangerous when cast on the wall visible through the room's door."
"I know that bit, tell me what happened when the whispers started."
"There are nine speakers in and around the cold room. The inspector's face turned pale when the weird voices from the audio file in the cold room's desktop started playing."
After they both laughed, Vasant continued from the other side.
"The way he took out money from his wallet was a show unto itself. He placed the money in my palm, and after blabbering a few unclear words that meant he didn't have Rupees five thousand with him at that time, he cumbersomely rushed out of the door."
They again laughed.
"Did I tell you, Vasant, I have been waiting for an opportunity like the one that came my way that day? When the local morgue authorities told us they could not accommodate another body and that we should visit the National Medical College Hospital's morgue, I knew I had the perfect opportunity."
"Of course, you knew. That's why you called me with such excitement, didn't you? I still remember how you said, " Vasant, my boss will soon be there. You must teach this guy a lesson with your projectors and speakers. And I readily agreed. Your boss is the ninth officer I fooled with my instruments."
"You did a great job, friend; you really did a great job."
"But you have still not thrown a party, Prasad."
"How much did my boss give you that night?"
"About Rupees two and a half thousand. But why are you asking? Do you want a share or something?"
"No, my dear. I was just curious. Don't worry about the party. We will have it this weekend for sure."
"Isn't Inspector Sahai joining today?" Vasant spoke again.
"Yes, but I don't think he will come before twelve. All officers report in the afternoon after returning from long breaks."
"Prasad," I said, unsure what action to take against him. In any case, I didn't have any evidence to prove that he broke the police conduct rules.
The senior constable hurriedly disconnected the call and faked a smile.
***
00:08:39
A week later, I called Prasad to my cabin.
"Sir, did you call me?"
"Yes, please sit down, Prasad."
He pulled a chair and sat across the table from me. I took an envelope from my table's top drawer and gave it to him.
"What is this, Sir?"
"Open it."
Prasad opened the envelope and pulled out a paper."
"The Head Office has issued your transfer order."
"I have been posted to the Saraswati Vihar police station."
"Yes, Prasad. You live in Saraswati Vihar, don't you?"
"Yes, I do."
"So, you must be happy with the new posting."
"I am not sure of that, Sir."
"But you will be closer to home."
"Did you ask your head office colleagues to have me transferred?"
"I don't think that question is of any relevance, Prasad. What is of relevance is that you shall be close home."
"Well, I smell a punishment in this transfer order, Sir."
"Do you think you committed some act for which you deserve to be punished?"
The senior constable did not respond.
"Probably, you should treat it as a punishment in the shape of a gift."
Prasad looked up. He couldn't hide the shame in his eyes.
***
00:10:12
About a month after Prasad left the Awasthipura police station, one of my dear colleagues, Anant Jain, came to see me. We joined the police service around the same time and were batchmates in the foundational police training program. He was now posted as one of the criminal investigators at the head office. I must mention here that it was through Anant that I had Prasad transferred to Saraswati Vihar police station. Thankfully, there weren't too many cases to deal with that day, and we got a lot of time to chat over coffee. Our meeting ended with a call he received from his boss.
"I got to go," he said and stood up.
"It felt so nice to have you here, Anant."
As we shook hands, Anant seemed to remember something.
"Hey, do you know I have solved the Manchanda case?"
"Manchanda case?"
"Prashant Manchanda case. You were the one who took Prashant's body to the morgue of the National Medical College Hospital, I believe."
"Okay, you mean that case. So, the victim's name was Prashant Manchanda?"
"That's right. A hardcore criminal killed him."
The recorded whispers played by Vasant rushed to the surface of my mind. One of those sets of voices was supposed to have been whispered by Prashant's spirit.
"You seem to be in deep thoughts."
I didn't give an immediate response. The voices that Vasant fooled me into believing as Prashant's whispers played in my mind again.
That goon killed me. Is there anyone hearing me? Inform my sister Vinita in the village that I have been murdered. And also tell her who killed me – it is the same scoundrel, the one who ruined Vinita's life. Yes, Abdul. Abdul killed me with a knife. He slit my throat. Is there anyone here? Can anyone hear me? Someone must inform my sister that I am dead. Oh, but where have you placed me? Who are these people staring at me? Please take me out of here. Oh, I know all of them are dead like me. What a torture this is! I am in hell, it seems. All of this happened because of that criminal called Abdul. He robbed my family of our savings, physically assaulted my sister, kept threatening us not to tell the police, conspired with the authorities to keep all his criminal acts under cover, and finally, he killed me when I told him that I wouldn't spare him. Catch that criminal, somebody. Is someone listening to me or not?"
"Are you okay?"
“Yes, I am fine, Anant. Do you know the name of Prashant's killer?"
"Of course, I was one of the investigating officers in the case."
"Who killed Prashant?"
"A dreaded criminal by the name of Abdul."
"What? Are you sure?"
"Yes, I arrested Abdul last week. But why do you look so surprised?"
"Tell me, Anant. Is Prashant's sister's name Vinita?"
"That's right. Prashant's family has also been a victim of Abdul's crimes. Abdul not only robbed the family of their hard-earned savings but also molested Vinita. Abdul belongs to a gang that has a track record of committing such crimes. We hope to catch the entire gang one day."
I found myself frozen again, not by fear but by intrigue. If the whispers of Prashant I heard at the National Medical College Hospital were nothing more than recorded voices, how could they reveal the facts of the case with such pin-pointed accuracy – the killer's name was Abdul, the victim's sister's name was Vinita, the killer had robbed the family of their savings, Vinita was presently stationed in a village, and that the dreaded criminal had also physically assaulted the poor girl.
Was the accuracy of the information a mere coincidence? If yes, I hadn't ever experienced a bigger coincidence.
Could it be that the supposed whispers of Prashant that I had begun to believe as a piece of recording were not recorded voices after all? If that were the case, wouldn't it be reasonable to infer that those whispers were indeed made by Prashant? Vasant probably also did not know that the voices with which he tricked me were not all recorded voices.
"Something seems to be bothering you."
In response, I simply smiled, unsure what to and what not to say."
OUTRO 00:18:15
Thanks for listening to OBSCURUS. If you like what you heard, please subscribe and visit biswajitbanerjee.com for more information about Biswajit's books, movies, documentaries, and other creative pursuits. We shall see you next Wednesday with another episode of OBSCURUS. Till then, take care!