Mitra was in two minds with the news of the video. Till that moment, she had been having doubts on the search and rescue efforts for her. Now, with the video out, her family and Vishal would recognize her and start searching for her immediately.
Police wouldn't stay still with something like this circulating in the public. On the other hand, it would terrify the very people who she was worried about. Just the thought of her parents agonizing over her situation, Vishal being helplessly at loss for any thoughts and actions, her colleagues pitying her thinking how the docile Mitra got into such a sticky situation, her school and college acquaintances wondering about her in mixed tones.
It took her only seconds to picture every bit of chaos in her family, friends and acquaintances.
"Wow, I didn't know I could surprise you so well," the kidnapper chuckled.
Mitra was silent, lost in her thoughts.
"I will give you some time to dwell on it." He smiled and turned to leave.
"Why are you doing this?" Mitra slowly muttered.
As he turned towards her, she looked up pointedly at him and asked, "What's the purpose? Am I a trophy you are showing the world? Are you trying to pass some kind of a message? Or are you just a perverted psychopath on a very twisted mission to display your strength?"
He sighed and said, "We will discuss that later. It is too complicated to explain now."
Before turning back to leave, he advised, "You should have your food. I haven't spiked it or anything. I don't have to go through such means of spoiling you when you are perfectly in my grasp. I will get you fresh food after a while."
He left her to her silence and chaotic mind.
Why did he film me? Why did he upload it to for the public to watch? Is he targeting me or someone else? Is he sending a warning? Or is this just a kidnap for ransom? But there wasn't any mention of money or other exchanges. Was he putting that up to auction me off to a bidder?
Her thoughts were messed up, drawing possibilities and ruling each of them out, again reconstructing the scenarios. She looked at the plate of food left there for her. It had gone cold and she felt like puking looking at it. After a while, she decided to get her senses straight and sat meditating, trying to reduce the intense pressure in her brain.
Time passed, and she fell asleep.
The sound of the door opening woke her up. This time, the kidnapper stepped in with a plate of hot fried rice and a water bottle. He kept them on the table, pushed the table to a side to act like more like her bedside stand and without a word left the room.
Mitra stared at the food, her stomach rumbling with hunger. Despite the million doubts she had on the intentions of the man and the food itself, she kept everything aside, washed her hands at the sink in the corner of the room and sat down to eat. It took only a few minutes to clean the plate off.
She needed the strength to fight him. Starving herself was not going to help her.
She spent hours, trying to see if anything happened to her because of the food. Not a single minute change crept in. She felt too normal for the distrust she had.
It slowly became a routine. He would come in once in a few hours and place some food for her to eat, remove the used dishes, refill her water bottles and leave without a word. She wondered how long this would continue.
He kept saying that he will discuss this whole situation with me, why and how he got me here and what he intends to do to me. Maybe he is waiting for the right time to talk. But when is that?
Mitra knew too well that the first person to get agitated and break the silence would be the weaker one in the long fight. So, she kept her head held up, her demeanour resilient and her eyes sharp with defiance.
Let's see how you can scare me and how long you will hold out, she thought to herself.
The kidnapper was having his own day of fun. There was a single CC camera in the corner adjacent to the door in Mitra's room and he had been watching her time to time; her impatience, anxiety, refusal to eat and sleep and eventually succumbing to the tiredness of staying awake.
It entertained him. Unlike all those times when he had to sneak at her from a distance once in a while, he now had complete visual of her activities. She was still being unpredictable, as always.
He monitored the situation outside. The public was in divided opinions, speculating things and the police seemed to be working in their usual pace.
The icing on the cake was Mitra's boyfriend who was seen near her house, investigating, looking like a person on the brink of death.
Everything was going as planned.
Thirty-six hours after the kidnap, with a barely rested Mitra trying to tone her anxiety down, the kidnapper paid her a lengthy visit.
Mitra had been lying on the bed, unable to think any more when she heard footsteps approaching the door. She jerked into a sitting position as the door opened. This time, he walked in with a camera and a tripod stand in his hands.
She watched him as he set the camera focused on Mitra's chair, a little away from the lounge chair he used, positioned to film her a little from her left.
"What are you doing?" she asked cautiously.
"Just recording a few things." He used a very casual tone to answer her. He raised his hand and indicated her to sit in the chair.
Mitra considered it for a moment and then confidently got up and took her seat. He sat in his chair across her and smiled.
"What's your name?" she asked him again.
He pondered on what to answer and finally said, "Sashi."
"It's not your real name, is it?" she asked rhetorically.
"You anyways won't believe anything I say. Does it matter then?" he said as a matter of fact.
She glared at him and then quipped, "Fine. What's with the recording then? What if I describe you and say your name on record?"
"It's not a live telecast," he drawled. "I have all the rights to edit and delete the parts of footage I don't deem fit for public broadcast."
She nodded her head slowly, a habit of her's when she was trying to comprehend the consequences of something.
They both sat in silence for a while.
"You seem to have a lot of questions about me. Why don't we start with a few?" he asked nonchalantly.
Mitra studied his attitude, his easy demeanour and answered, "Sure."