Prologue

I'm thinking of writing a story, a suspense kinda..here's the prologue. Read it and let me know...if it's good them i'mma continue.
Well the, here goes..

Everyone has two sides, ranging from inanimate objects such as a one rupee coin, a branch of study, such as science, or as in this particular case, hacking. Even we humans, at least if not by our nature then by our nomenclature from the past 6.5 billion years, we can call ourselves human. We too have two sides. One good, which tries to make us analyze each and every step we make, so as to keep us in the light of reason and in mercy of the almighty, so that we can keep our soul intact for the final verdict after our life. And the other, just the opposite of the good, like darkness to the light, we also have a dark side. Dark, however, here is a relative term, like darkness to light. Darkness is defined as the void of light, and it even exists where there isn’t enough light. Similarly our dark side, it’s what tempts us to succumb to our internal desires, which we know morally are not good for us or something we know. The dark side calls us from within, alluring the person to enter the dark world, in which the person loses all sense of who he is and what is he destined to do. He enjoys life and does activities at the cost of his soul, slowly casting him into eternal damnation.

My head is still dizzy, partly because of these thoughts, which were spinning in my head like a hurricane, causing devastation all around, and partly because of the fall I took. I might’ve hit my head on something. But I’m thankful my head’s not cracked or bleeding. A severe concussion and bleeding are highly probable if you are thrown into a ditch from a ten feet high mound by a couple of Russian henchmen. I can move my limbs, but I think I might’ve dislocated by left shoulder. I can’t get up; the muddy ditch is too much slippery. I’m like a lizard in a porcelain wash basin, how hard I try I can’t get to the top of the basin, I just keep slipping down. I’m perspiring, a lot. It’s a hot summer’s night and I’m lying down in a ditch, mostly covered in mud. I always wanted to visit Russia, but not like this. Getting clobbered by the local mafia wasn’t in my bucket list. I know I’m bleeding. The goons really did give me their best shots. If I’m not wrong, I have a black eye, a cut lower lip, a bleeding nose, a scratch mark on my right cheek mostly, but I’m a little doubtful about my tongue, I may have bit it at some point, or was it my gums? But if it’s my tongue, I have a really good reason to be worried about my speech and my diction. That would be the worst injury of all, even bad than a cracked rib or a fracture. Call me narcissist but I love my voice, it has what got me to this position in life.

“I’m a little tea pot, short and stout” I began muttering, like a microphone test I used to do back in college before the commencement of functions and events. “This is my handle, and this is my spout”. Thank god, my tongue is intact. I still have the power of speech, which separates us humans from rest of the animals in the animal kingdom. Though we are the most barbaric, savage and destructive kind of animal ever made, we just rule the world with our powerful brain and our speech capabilities.  If dinosaurs still walked the earth, they would’ve made an excellent pet instead of these Labradors and Dalmatians. And who knows? T-rex meat would have been and excellent delicacy.

Funny little poem, but back in kindergarten this used to be my favorite nursery rhyme. Life was so easy back then, problem and worry free childhood with a comfortable life. Then I set out to embrace the dark side. Like Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader, like Yagami Light got the Death note and became Kira. Their life changed drastically. So did mine, after I started living on both the good and bad sides of my life.

But what could go wrong and to what extent? How did I end up in the hands of the Russian mob? What provoked them to such an extent to treat me like their punching bag? I’m just a computer engineer, how did I get involved in this mess? Of course I knew all the answers to these several questions. But reiterating them in my head again and again gives me a clear perspective of the multiple solutions that might have been there, which I didn’t notice that time. The labyrinth of solutions is like a fuzzy set, with every line of solution having its own probability, denoted the chances of me being alive at the end of it all. Interviewing me in such times gives me an insight analysis as a third person, and provides answers which may be of great significance at that point. And given my position now, I don’t have any choice but to evaluate my steps or die in this ditch, as the rescue team won’t be here in time, or they would be caught in the action elsewhere. The search party might not show up till this situation settles which may take a week. Even if I don’t die tonight, I might as well in die in the coming week due to lack of medical attention leading to multiple arterial damage and blood loss, which may lead up to hemorrhage and ultimately death. All I’ve got to do now is to think my way out of this.

Of course, it all would have been simple if it wasn’t for these two voices in my head. One screams me to back out while I can while the other says to have fun while I can, and to crank it up a notch. And it’s the doings of these two blokes that I ended up here in this ditch, nearly half dead.  

I know this all sounds extremely hypothetical and childish, believing that actually two so called angels, sitting on our shoulders, prompting us, to do or not to do. The calling of the inner conscious and redemption of the soul, it all sounds a bit too farfetched. I don’t blame you; honestly that’s what I thought a few months back. But then, something changed, something happened.

Open to suggestions as always fellas, do leave in your comments :)