Avenue of DeathBy

Akash Bansal

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AVENUE OF DEATH

Copyright © 2011 Akash Bansal

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission in writing from the author/publisher.

Paperback ISBN 13: 978-81-923146-0-0

Printed in India0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

I thank all those creative souls who assisted in the designing of an artistic outlook for the representation of my book and that too with a lot of attachment and care not only for their art, but also for the world of

Avenue of Death in itself.

“God descends for the mortals,When the hell rises to their very lands,

For the man shall keep its saneOr bid losing the one thing he can – his soul”

- The Unheards

THE KNOWN CALLED IT

Such is how that night began and not much unlike many others to come. A poet could have found inspiration in it, a writer the thrill of a new idea and a painter a dark muse to lust after. Well there is no better way to describe those dark hours without sounding ominous, because such is how those nights always began with the battles of nature commencing heavily and the Stanmore University of Scotland appearing like an assortment of deserted castles spread over acres of contoured land.

The passing winds of cold September pressed against the walls of the leanest turret. Its crowning pinnacle had already begun receiving heavy drops of rain and suddenly a purple light evaded the skies. Next the winds were heard trying to break in from the windows; banging them repeatedly against their wooden frames and making the latches suffer injury. A feeling of turmoil and ruin, good against evil was setting in…

But that very night was also darker than usual with no street lights to weaken the vigilance of the dead. When the lightning struck the towers with its purple spears and the fog blanketed the campus like still air, then the sinister could be faintly spotted peeping through the creepiest corners. But instead only few glimpses of candle light were noticed marking the extent of the student’s wing and the only life in campus. And before those pebble sized flames sat young boys & girls on rickety study tables stationed inside their narrow hostel rooms.

The clock ticked to 11:15PM; it was still 45 minutes due for the clock tower to roar on its mundane schedule. But at that very same moment, the lock of the room inside the basement, vertically down the turret – clicked. The guard dressed in his immaculate uniform peeped inside the room to re-assure that it was empty. Due to the offensive culture of the present generation, there was always a fear of young couples staying behind to fool around at late hours in the privacy of dark empty chambers.

New to the job, he was told by his peers not to wander inside empty buildings after 8 pm and especially not in the basements, whatsoever is the case, they had said. But he did not bother to take them seriously. Instead his cynical mind rejected the warnings as to be a clever plan sought out to restrain him from seeming efficient.  And so he hoped to catch a couple in a

compromising situation and seem heroic only to give a potential boost to his career prospects.

The torch light swayed over the walls of the silent undergrounds. It was altogether a mysterious environment with nothing newer than 1934, the year when a part of it was last furnished. The guard moved through the glints of thunder light teetering inside these dark chambers. He stealthily checked the whole stretch ahead, but to his disappointment there wasn't a suggestion of anyone else present except him. In agitation over his failure, the guard began to retrace his steps towards an old staircase and make his way back to the quarters.

But the moment he was about to thump his foot on the first tread, his cautious ear caught a faint echo of giggles. He froze right there like a sculpture and restricted himself against making an uncalled sound. He inwardly grinned at his luck lowering his foot back on the landing.  The guard turned and advanced to prowl inside the basements again and drew his steps mutely by guiding them warily. The rising sound of giggles assured him that he took the right passage. When the naughty teasing progressed into sound of licentious gasps, he grew almost assured of his victory. The couple should be towards the left turn at the end of the passage, he judged and advanced. The moment he reached the dead end, he abruptly exposed himself with the intention to leave the debauchees – in his opinion – confounded.

“There you are – you no good bastards!” he shouted at the darkness.

But the very same moment, his rush of victory was retorted by another slap of defeat. To his surprise, the whole stretch was hollow and absolutely still– nobody was there.

It began to rain outside so recklessly that the loud patters emerging from the enduring facades were now clearly audible.

“Damn it!” he cried.

He regretted making his presence alarmingly evident for the couple to rush and mark their escape.

There were numerous exits in the basements, considering the reach of the whole university and the connection between the basements of several blocks in the Stanmore vicinity; the system seemed requisite.

The guard sped up and drew his feet to a run. He heard someone else running too; which he figured out by the sound of panicky rush coming from somewhere near. He computed his way following the yellow beam of torch tightly clenched in his hand and reached the other end of the hallway. The couple might have had escaped by now as nobody could be seen. In the fury

of his defeat, he crumpled his hand into a fist and banged it on the wall, thus venting out his anger.

“I’ll get you next time... you filthy, horny kids!” he shouted across the hallway to announce his fear.

Complaining and murmuring to himself, the guard grabbed his umbrella resting beside a door and hiked back for the exit. He was in middle of blabbering to himself and was about to reach the staircase, just when, he suddenly felt an extreme stroke of pain from behind.

“Aaaaaahh!” he cried out loud and halted abruptly. In shock he stumbled on his feet.

The guard with his trembling hands examined his back where he was feeling a sharp burn. When his hand reached the spot, his fingers touched the wound piercing his skin and he realized that blood was running out from it. The touch of his fingers added to the burning sensation and he shriveled in pain. When he trailed the blood line, he discovered a deep & long slit across the center of his back.

He began to gasp in fear. His wide terrified eyes and gaping mouth revealed his inner state of shock. And when the guard hastily looked around to spot his attacker, nobody was visible.

“Who is it you bastard?! Come out and show yourself!” he roared in conceited defense. His breathing grew hasty. And even though he did not want to admit, he had grown frightened.

Before the guard could do anything further, he suddenly felt another stroke of extreme pain. This time it came as a bump of unseen air hitting him severely and throwing his body five feet away from where he stood. This was the final alarming moment for him. Somehow he managed to be back on his feet and darted towards the exit. The warnings of his co-workers struck him again – may be they were right!

Blood began to run out even faster now and the blow left his chest aching. His heart thumped as if aiming to rip out from his chest. Something lethal was hovering inside the undergrounds and the guard finally sensed it. Before he could escape and put an end to the uncalled assault, another gust of unseen force hit him, only harder this time and almost like a rocky punch. He flew through the darkness like a weightless creature and banged against the end wall.

But unlike the last time, he did not fall on the floor face down. Instead his whole body got stuck to the stony surface and his hands stretched out and spread to his sides against his will. His whole body froze on the wall as if it were nailed to a cross but only with his back towards the open. The whole frantic situation left the guard in a state of absolute horror. Above his chin

wedged against the wall, his dark eyes bulged out and his throat began to produce wheezing shrieks.

It was just a lapse of another few seconds after which the final hit of death defeated him. It happened when his head twisted to crash on the withered wall. It then went on hitting it brutally and unstoppably.  Repeatedly his head was pulled back as if someone clenched it by its hair, only to smack it back purposely, and the guard could only scream out the excruciating pain it brought to him. He was captured by an unexplainable terror.

It was a painful sight for anyone but not for the entity causing it. The guard began to lose control of his senses. The echoes of his screeching cries filled the empty vaults, and loud and pitiful they were, but unfortunately there was no one to rescue him from the clutches of death. He had his chance but he lost it. After all he was warned not to wander strictly after 8...He made a wrong choice.

His head smashed continuously while he remained immobile and glued to the wall. After suffering several blows, a deep & gory wound appeared on his forehead and blood oozed out from it. This assault continued till he heard a bone twist in his skull and a deep crack opened in the center of his head. At last the guard released his final last breath...

The dead corpse lay motionless against the wall, standing on its knees, with its eyes open and lifeless. Blood seeped out and dripped from the corner of his mouth, while the rain fell callously and the lightening blared out loudly and visibly.

The ones who knew called it ...Avenue of Death...

 

 

 

 

1 

I squinted against the hazy glass and saw blurred apparitions appearing to be frozen in time, staring rigidly towards my right. The figures in my span of sight could have had been fifty or more in number. It wasn’t feasible to judge that correctly from the little glass square engraved in the heart of the entrance door to the appointed lecture hall. Only moments ago I was steeling my core and gripping the cloud of anxiety from exploding. I was telling myself that I am a confident person and could endure the awkwardness of the first day of college. Well I had been fairly successful; at least I was in control when I proclaimed my entry on that monsoon stricken cold morning through the main gates of the university. The stride on the 26 stairs leading to the Bachelors of Law floor was also easily accomplished. I checked and felt quite sufficiently composed even when I crossed a long deserted hallway narrowing towards the lecture hall. But just when it was most needed I lost all my accumulated calmness on first glimpse of the strength of the batch, which was unaware of my arrival and the new face that was to join them any minute. It’s not easy to be a fresher and a late arrival. Unfortunately, adding to my dismay and the relieving appetite of my astrological bad luck, I was both.

Finally after a lot of thinking, I barged in. I could have had opted to slide decently through the ajar of the door and introduce myself. Only lord knows what influenced me that I pushed the door so hard making it batter against the wall behind it and causing innumerable pairs of eyes to interruptedly flutter towards me. I felt washed out with embarrassment.

I was told about the new system for monitoring attendances. It was done through electrical devices that were installed all over. The technology fascinated me – one just had to pass through the doors of the lecture halls and the sensors detected your ID and marked your presence. But at that moment, I could clearly imagine the sensors installed here detecting my electronic ID with maniacal alert signals.

“Yes?” questioned the bespectacled professor with frowned lines on his forehead.

“Good morning sir – I am, umm...Samantha Jones. I am a new joining.” I said feeling bruised under extreme tension.

After a brief look of examination, he shifted his gaze towards the podium and lifted a pile of clipped papers resting within his reach. He checked the list followed by an expression of recognition and then gazed at his watch.

“Samantha J?” he questioned.

“Yes – yes, Samantha Jones – Samantha J – same...” I chuckled like a fool. But in truth, I was just trying to hide my state of uneasiness.

“Yes, Miss Jones. We have been expecting you, for long now…” he commented sharply. There were enough intentional pauses between his words to convey it, and I still remember it.

Only if I wasn’t mortified with my situation, I would have had giggled at him after hearing his puppet tone of speech and accounting that bunch of hair making the top of his head which seemed to be done straight from Einstein’s favorite salon.

“Yes sir, my apologies, the weather caused bit of a trouble,” I said sincerely.

He cleared his throat on my excuse and placed the pile of paper to its previous resting place.

“Well, we can surely make an exception for today.” He straightened his spectacles that had slid down towards the tip of his nose, “Welcome to the University of Stanmore. Please join the class, Miss Jones.” His tone softened and I felt relaxed.

As I progressed towards the aisles set by the rows, I was treated with a range of expressions beginning with numb stares from the first benchers followed by rude sighs from the others. Then from somewhere I noticed few friendly smiles peeping from countable humble faces. And lastly followed the unrequited flirty gestures – grinning at me – from a lot of undesirables, all set out explicitly in my welcome.  I paced my steps and jumped towards the back corner seat. I thumped myself down before anymore could be presented to heighten my anxiety levels.

I uneasily and constantly shifted over the small span of seat throughout the lecture and prayed for it to end earliest possible. Alas after 45 minutes – that were a bit heavy on me – the end of the lecture was announced and it felt like declaration of my freedom.

I was making my exit when a skinny little creature jumped before me like a rabbit popping out from a magician’s hat. But only it was a girl who was as tall as I was then and wore spectacles that were too intellectual to match her offhanded mannerisms.

“Hey there –” the girl said, “I am Alex.”

She stretched her hand right in front of my face and the only way I could put it aside was by returning her shake.

“Hello, I am Samantha,” I said and curved my lips to a smile.

“Yeah, we all heard that during your bizarre entry,” she rolled her eyes amusingly and set out her fine teeth into an affectionate grin.

“Yeah, that was quite a first day entry,” I admitted and tightened my voice to hide my awkwardness.

“Come on... it’s alright, happens with everyone. On my first day, I slipped in front of the podium,” she giggled. She seemed to have a candid attitude and her sharing did make me feel better about my first day debacle.

“So, it’s your first day, Samantha, welcome to Stanmore.”

“Thank you, Alex,” I replied courteously and smiled.

Alex checked her watch.

“There is no class for another hour, what are your plans?”

“Well, I haven’t thought anything yet. I have hardly seen the university, so probably would check the place,” I replied.

“Hmm, mind a company?” Alex offered.

Even though she was spontaneous in character and quite exuberant for me to handle, yet she looked like a decent and friendly person. It was only minutes later that I noticed her overall appearance, which was indeed somewhat intellectual; her straight plait of hair, decent pair of jeans and a shirt of light color. She carried 3 books with her and when she shifted the pile to her left hand, I glimpsed at the title of one of them. It was about world’s most famous hotels, the one that bear various pictures of opulent structures.

“Yes, why not, I would love to have a company,” I said and accepted the offer.

2Despite the rain, the day progressed well. The showers made the university appear dark and Gothic. Though the latter was literally true, considering the birth of the University of Stanmore, which was in 1539, an era when Gothic architecture was the tool widely used to ornament buildings in various part of the world. And Stanmore, among the very few in Scotland, also stood ritualistic and obedient to that style. The whole 2256 acres of land was a Gothic delight. Yes, that was the numerical figure and I widened my eyes to a popping sensation when my father compared the campus to be equivalent to almost 12 golf courses. I could not capture the view of the whole campus in one frame as the whole university was distributed on levels.

The sloped land on which it stood bore 159 blocks in total and some of them were worthy impressions of architectural grandeur. After a short stroll around the campus, I was certain that I could never explore the whole place even in the span of three years, which I enrolled for, to spend there...as initially planned...

My block luckily stood somewhere in the middle of the campus. From my block ran a flight of beautiful large steps, on its either side, for access to other blocks towards the rising and falling levels. I felt I had enrolled myself to a different world where humans lived but belonged to a complete different race of ascendants. When my newly found pal could no longer stop blabbering about the intelligently connected basements, I agreed to pay a

quick visit and see it myself. I released a look of admiration for Alex’s precise notice and wondered how ingeniously all the basements were connected even though the blocks were constructed at varying ground levels. The descending and ascending sets of staircase were the answer to my observation – it was indeed a smart system.

“You have an eye for such details, are you sure you want to be a lawyer?” I questioned.

“Well, you are right. I do have an eye for it and that is exactly the reason why my first choice was Architecture,” Alex reasoned.

“Really? Then why didn’t you go for it? They have Bachelors in Architecture here at Stanmore,”

“Well, I didn’t get through it. Guess I am not smart enough to be an architect,” she said regretfully.

“Oh –” I started with my consolation.

“That’s ok! I am pretty fine with law too. Plus I feel my brain is limited to just the appreciation of these details – can’t design a structure all by myself,” she said spontaneously cutting me off and then added, “Sometimes when you like something, that doesn’t mean you want to be it too.” She shrugged her shoulders. Alex hurried deeper towards the interiors as if she wanted to avoid talking about it.

As we advanced, I couldn’t help but notice the heavy vaults of the ceilings, similarly replicated even down here as it were in my block. Their copper luster shade gave them a cathedral feel from inside. The walls were very similar to the ones in churches too. I could make out that they were heavily built.

There were also portions in the basements designed similar to that in castles or dungeons and so they appeared dark and mysterious to me. Their deep arches were lined with curved belts of plaster and were supported by a series of enormous pillars interlocking these same arches. Thanks to a belt of narrow windows, and not the typical hopper windows, there was adequate scope of air to flow for me to stride comfortably in these chambers. The university reflected its age; to me it appeared like I was in some king’s palace. I was glad to be there.

Alex further educated me on few more architectural elements replicated from castles and town halls of 1500’s. Overall, the basements together were another land impossible to conquer through our mortal steps. Yet these ornamentally treated spaces kept me hooked. Passing through a row of slender piers, we landed in a vast open space. When the sound of our footsteps reverberated, I realized how high the ceiling was.

“This is unbelievable,” I exclaimed.

“Oh you bet!” replied Alex.

I felt like a small creature before that whole physical splendor. And as if smeared by a psychological effect, my vocals automatically dimmed to whispers whenever I spoke. I couldn’t sway my eyes away from the sparkling chandeliers hanging in the center. It must have had been an artistic assortment of a million pieces of glass.

“I mean, is this how all the old universities really look like or is it just the Stanmore?”

“I would say Stanmore is the lucky one, charity worked in its favor.”

“Charity? How?” her words caught my attention.

“Well, there is a little history behind the whole creation of this city-like institution.”

“What kind of history?”

Her last remark really pitched my interest. In the midst of all the vintage creations, history seemed to have had become my new found interest.

“Well, the history says that a wealthy duke from early 1500’s contributed a vast piece of land from his inheritance for the setting up of this university. He owned the land where Stanmore stands today. His ancestors were once settled here and so he obviously earned it. As this man a descendent of some royal bloodline, so he already had a considerable amount of wealth around this part of Scotland. It was more of a deserted terrain then, but seemed suitable for the establishment of a university. The people who envisioned creating an educational uplift in the society were very intellectual but lacked financial support. So the only way to make it possible was to include the role of a powerful personality in their vision.”

I had a bad habit of going astray during conversation, but this one really took me. I listened to huh intently as she continued.

“With the same intention, they approached a man who was known as Sir Andrew Webber. Sir Andrew Webber agreed to help, but….” Alex was sitting on one of the many staircases. She stood up and began to move towards the womb of the grand hall as she went on, “…But he laid down few demands. He wished that the university must appear royal enough in its personality, with adequate structural patterns that make it look like some opulent palace, or something of that sort.” She snorted mockingly. “Anyway, Sir Webber felt that this way his contribution would live through ages. Whenever people would compare the personality of this structure similar to that of castles and palaces, his contribution will be narrated – like I am doing now.”

Her voice faintly reverberated between the columns and it felt as If I were in the company of a sincere tour guide.

“Whoa! That is absurd, is it really true?” I cut her in between.

 ”Absurd? – Yes. True? – Again yes. After all, then it was a world full of vanities.”

“I believe that now,” I said. I stood inside the concrete proof of such a desire, and I couldn’t have disagreed.

“Well, listen up, there is more,” Alex said. “He also demanded inclusion of another separate block inside the campus where the descendants of royal bloods could pursue their studies, if they wished to, but aloof from common people. This was exactly what resulted into this particular grand block where you are standing right now. Though he himself had no heir who could have had the privilege of this luxury, yet he demanded it. Anyway, this hall was designed to be the grand dinning place for the students of royal status. This block is actually one of the three largest spaces in the university; of course one cannot judge that by looking at it from here as all the basements are connected though passages and staircases.”

I crooked my eyes funnily and my forehead frowned to display my ungrateful judgment on this extended act of absurdity.

“Even more absurd? Well, like I told you – a world full of vanities. Maybe it was some bizarre intentional attempt to boast his title in the eyes of society. Some say he wasn’t much respected by the people. Who knows why?” Alex drew both of her palms sideways in a swaying motion, and in conclusion.

“Were such things allowed then? I mean in a university?” I asked.

“It seems yes. If you compare the idea with now, it won’t make any sense. But that period was a different era all together where class distinction was very much evident in almost everything. It wasn’t a secular society with oaths of human equality to abide and follow.”

I nodded in agreement.

“You know, it surprises me how the mindset of a society affects its architecture also. Had it not been for the duke’s pretentious demands, the structure of this university would have had looked entirely different. I mean even consider the connection between the basements. Have you ever seen any campus connected like this? In fact, anyone else except the royal bloods was not allowed to enter this block from the main entrance. So they had to travel through the basement routes to be here. And therefore the whole university is connected through basements. The professor could be in any part of the campus when called to appear and had to make his way to this royal block via these underground routes only.”

“Of course there are many new blocks in the campus now that were added later. They are not connected though. But the major part of the campus is comprised of old buildings, so you would come across such passages from time to time. Many are locked now with iron gates – the ones which do not seem practical anymore or serve any purpose.”

“Hmm,” I grumbled.

“Also, one might think why it is named as Stanmore even though it stands in Scotland and since Stanmore is a place of its own in London. Well I know the reason for that too,” Alex added gladly and followed with the answer to her own question, “Stanmore means stony pool or stone only. And once you look at this gothic delight, you can comprehend the precise reason behind naming it so. So to settle the feud – if there were any – to why University of Stanmore stands in Scotland instead of in Stanmore of London, this is the precise explanation to it. Plus, Stanmore of London wasn’t officially recognized before 1570’s. Stanmore University was established in early 16the

century.”

Alex concluded pinning the description right onto my face. I could not flutter my eyelashes for few seconds; her quickness of dominating any conversation was somewhat intimidating.

The whole case of vanity had surpassed my ability of showing either mockery or contempt in response. I rather resorted to my state of reticence. It became somewhat dreary now. After Alex finished narrating the grand tale, we hiked back on our exploration of the rest.

“Why is this place so empty?” I complained.

“Lectures must be going on. We got free early,” Alex said. To me, now she seemed like someone with eternal knowledge, someone who knew about almost everything that existed. Or were it her own judgments that she had been stating to me all this while. Who knows? I rather cared less. She was a pleasant and a nice person to be with, and it was all that mattered.

Even though my new found liking for the subject only lasted for several minutes, there was still much enthusiasm left in me to further explore the grandeur of Stanmore, but preferably mutely. Before we stepped into another eye boggling space, our path narrowed and its mouth opened into a broad hallway that somehow did not fit in the hierarchy of spaces I was expecting after my last encounter. Later that hallway curved towards another set of staircase. At this moment, the arrangement was that of a typical biblical maze. When I stepped on the first tread, the thin sole of my shoe could not hide the ruggedness of the floor beneath. It felt hard and rocky with all the trickling undulations on its surface.

I could swear that my following encounter would be with some lightened torches marshalled along the length of the side walls. I felt conceited when it turned out to be half right. But instead of flagrant flames crowning the top of these torches, there were glistening yellow bulbs tugged inside cup shaped holders and covered with glass spheres. The wall height pictures hanging in between every pair of consecutive torches shone proudly highlighting the firm faces they held. I looked at those still eyes and I could see them drenched with shallow auras of pride and ego.

“This is the gallery of pride,” announced Alex.

I drew a side way glance towards Alex and exchanged my open mouth with a smile drawn at her. She thought I didn’t understand what she said.

“Gallery of pride – all these pictures represent influential people who graduated from Stanmore,” Alex added to brief me clearly. She pointed her hands in a circular motion towards the faces on the wall and stressed on the subjects while she spoke.

“Did you build this place in some past life or what?” I said pulling her leg.

Alex turned towards me and blushed vaguely. Her straight plait swayed behind her like a loose rope. She re-aligned her spectacles and slowly let go a nimble laugh in reception of my comment.

“I studied a lot about this place before I came here,” She said.

“Impressive!” I appreciated in a musical note.

I had lost the count of staircases we had come up and down so far. I wondered at what level below the ground we stood now. My query was settled by a measurable deduction when I finally stepped inside that mind boggling foyer referred earlier. What I saw there were sizeable wraps hung down in air; to me they appeared like glorifying flags printed on a cloth as thick as that of a carpet. And there wasn’t just one, but six of them, falling below the height of the ceiling. Just when I thought the previous assembly hall was the largest space ever built in a university, Stanmore pushed me further to fix the scope of my judgements.

The tallest ceiling must have had been five floors high. And after this calculation did the extent of our journey down the earth crust struck me. My anxious mind began to think about the supply of oxygen that must be struggling inside these hellish chambers. Little I knew then that the floor went just two floors under the ground and the rest stood above it. The closed walls and stout columns almost deceived me to a claustrophobic attack. Thanks to Alex whose bone for details itched further and presented these facts without even sensing the urgency for it. But even then, it failed to sound relieving enough. Nevertheless, I growled at my worked up head and decided to focus on the words of my Stanmore guide.

“This hall – this massive grand hall is the museum as you can see.”

Yes I could see it, yet I did not realize it immediately. I was still recovering from my envelope of self created fears. When I did observe closely, the fact submerged.

“This museum is an account of all the things that has to do with Stanmore. You can actually trace the course of technology by following the time line of the objects stationed here. There are even hand written old thesis documents by students who were considered to be the marvels of their time.”

I raised both of my eyebrows and nodded my head on the astounding effort carried by long gone alumni.

There were pairs of guns displayed on the walls. Few other antiques were fixed inside clear glass squares, each adorned on a separate wall. I could see they were all vintage tools and few even dated back to the 1500’s.

“What do guns have to do with the university?” I questioned.

“Not directly. It’s here more on the account of development of weaponry and other machines with time. You can trace the course of changes that took place in the weapon technology. These are the original samples,” Alex replied.

Now I did not feel the burden of appreciating Alex’s knowledge about the facts. She knew I was impressed and because of that awareness I could see the updated display of confidence in her speech.

“As you advance into other corners and sections of this museum, you even get to see the clothing statement of the prior periods. The lavish Scottish style is a must see. The details that the production houses try and incorporate in their era-films are only a fraction of the actual range of designs.”

It was some incredible collection and very agreeable. After being done with it, we headed further and reached a dead end. But it really didn’t look like a dead end and more like an iron wall. Another grand and massive creation, I concluded in my head with a grain of sarcasm.

“What is this Alex?” I questioned while I touched the rough lines of the iron material.

Alex was behind me but came forward and silently stepped beside me.

“This is the wall separating the drainage system. The great drainage, as it is called, is built on the lower contours of this campus site, and it begins from here,” Alex studied it for a moment with a lack of enthusiasm and continued speaking, “Actually the basements meet the lower lines of the hill exactly from here. You can see such iron walls built at each boundary line of the

basements meeting the lower contours. Such iron walls are skirting half the underground territory like outer protecting walls of castles. I think these walls are built to barricade basements from the drainage area effectively. Another grand implementation, that doesn’t seem odd. At least it keeps away the foul odours of the drainage water. The system is again very huge and of course, which isn’t hard to imagine seei –”

“– seeing the vast expanse of Stanmore university......” I cut her short and added amusingly, “yeah... yeah I get it..!”

Another half an hour stroll through the underground maze and stride across numerous staircases, I requested back to be in abundance of day light. And here in Scotland, day light usually meant the indirect sun blinking through the clouds.

We were back on the ground. The fresh cool air outside was refreshing. I was delighted to see that Stanmore had abundance of green implanted in its vicinity. I had always liked being close to nature. Stanmore had implemented enough shrubbery which made it appear like a companion that had birth out naturally. After the rain had splashed the land, the green trees stood highlighted like freshly painted objects on a screen of canvas. Alex gave a skewed eye when I pushed out my shoes and expressed my desire to walk on wet grass for several minutes. My luxurious contact was cut short when the dark clouds again grumbled and it began to drizzle. We both were carrying our umbrellas so it wasn’t a trouble. It was dim enough to notice the purple cracks in the clouds. Soon heavy rain started to pour out from them.

We had just entered the porch of our block and I was informed about the cancellation of the next lecture. Though Alex and I were the students of the same year, together we fell for only two mutual classes that were held in the same lecture halls – the elective ones. Alex had some work so she left with a hook on me to catch up again. It was strange but I felt a weird joy of relaxation after she left. May be I was still stricken by the after effects of my embarrassing entry that morning.

***

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http://www.amazon.com/Avenue-of-Death-ebook/dp/B0079M8S1U/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1373790300&sr=1-1&keywords=avenue+of+death