ch-4
Chapter 4: A Night at the Theatre
Suraj stirred the curry on the stove, glancing over his shoulder at Aryan, who sat at the dining table, quietly flipping through a comic book. There was an unusual calmness in the house tonight—one that hadn't been there for a long time.
As Suraj added the final spices, Aryan spoke up. "Bhaiya, you've been…different."
Suraj turned, raising an eyebrow. "Different how?"
"You seem…less stressed. You're laughing more," Aryan said, his eyes filled with a hesitant hope.
Suraj smiled softly. The boy had been through so much—more than any twelve-year-old should. "I'm just trying to be better, Aryan. For both of us."
They sat down to dinner, their conversation flowing easily, punctuated by occasional laughter. It was the first time in what felt like forever that the two brothers felt like a family again. Aryan smiled more tonight, and even though Suraj could sense the sadness that lingered beneath the surface, he could tell his little brother was trying. For that, Suraj was grateful.
After they finished eating, they washed the dishes together, sharing stories and small jokes, a sense of normalcy slowly creeping into their lives. Later, they both settled into bed—Aryan quickly falling into a peaceful sleep, while Suraj lay awake, thoughts swirling in his mind about the future, the company, and the life he was now living.
Eventually, sleep claimed him.
---
Suraj found himself standing in front of an old, rusty theatre. The marquee lights flickered weakly, casting an eerie glow over the crumbling façade. He didn't remember walking there, yet here he was, standing at the entrance.
He felt a strange pull, as if something was urging him to go inside. He hesitated for a moment, but curiosity got the better of him. As soon as he stepped into the theatre, the door slammed shut behind him, and the lights dimmed.
A message flickered onto the screen:
"Welcome to the Parallel Universe."
"Story of Unknown Origin."
Suraj's breath hitched. The words felt too familiar, too close to the reality he was now living.
The screen shifted again, displaying the title of the film:
"Story: Bloody Commando."
"Genre: Action, Thriller, Drama."
"Grade: C."
The movie began. Suraj instinctively leaned back in his seat, unsure of what to expect. But as soon as the film started, something strange happened—everything felt real. He tried to remind himself that it was just a dream, but his senses told him otherwise. He could feel the cold air in the theatre, the roughness of the seat beneath him, and the distant echo of his own breathing.
The story unfolded before him:
---
The movie opens on Arjun, a retired army commando, living in solitude outside the city. Once a commander in the army, he had devoted his life to serving his country, but that loyalty had come at a steep price. His only family—his mother—had been killed while he was away on duty. The grief and guilt had driven him to leave the army, seeking solace in the quiet countryside.
Suraj was immediately drawn into the story. The cinematography was stunning—every shot felt purposeful, every detail meticulously crafted.
This is incredible, Suraj thought, his instincts as a filmmaker kicking in. The framing, the lighting—it's perfect.
---
One night, as Arjun sat in his small, rustic home, there was a sudden knock on the door. He opened it to find a woman, her clothes soaked in blood, holding a baby in her arms. Despite her obvious injuries, there was a fierce determination in her eyes—she had only one goal: to save the child.
Arjun pulled her inside, desperately trying to treat her wounds, but it was too late. The woman looked into his eyes, her voice weak but steady as she whispered, "Please… save the child."
With that, she passed away in Arjun's arms, leaving him with the baby and no answers.
Suraj leaned forward in his seat, his heart pounding. The story had gripped him completely. Arjun's quiet resolve, his sorrowful determination—it all felt so real.
This direction is brilliant, Suraj thought. The emotion, the pacing—it's everything I'd want in a film.
---
Just as Arjun prepared to leave his house with the baby, a group of dangerous men arrived, clearly after the child. Arjun, a man trained in combat, didn't hesitate. He set the baby down safely and fought off the intruders with ruthless efficiency. Blood splattered across the walls as Arjun eliminated them one by one, his military training on full display.
After the gruesome battle, with his hands covered in blood, Arjun picked up the baby and fed it warm milk. The contrast between the violence and this tender moment was stark, but it made the scene all the more powerful.
Suraj's breath caught in his throat. The visual storytelling, the raw intensity of the scene—it was nothing short of masterful.
---
Realizing that the child was in far more danger than he had initially thought, Arjun made the decision to flee, taking the baby with him. But as he prepared to leave, more enemies arrived, leading to another intense confrontation.
This time, the stakes were higher. The fighting was brutal, realistic, and utterly captivating. Arjun was a force to be reckoned with, and Suraj couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen.
---
The movie climaxed with Arjun boarding a train to Delhi, hoping to meet an old, trusted friend who could help him protect the baby. As the train pulled away from the station, the camera shifted to a new figure—a man in a sleek black suit, his muscular arms covered in intricate tattoos. He was calm, methodical, and terrifyingly dangerous.
The scene closed with the man torturing one of his own subordinates, cutting off the man's fingers one by one as he asked questions about the baby.
---
The screen went black.
Suraj blinked, his mind reeling. There was no end credit sequence. No names of the cast, no directors. Nothing. Just silence.
What the hell? Suraj thought, confused. Who made this?
Suddenly, a message flashed across the screen:
"This is the real story of a parallel world."
Suraj's blood ran cold. He had been living in a parallel world himself, ever since he woke up in this alternate Bharat. But this—this was different. This film wasn't just fiction. It was a real story, from a real parallel universe.
Suraj sat in stunned silence, the weight of the revelation settling over him. The movie he had just watched wasn't a product of someone's imagination—it had actually happened in another world.
His mind raced. The story, the characters—everything about it was incredible. It was the kind of film that would captivate audiences, the kind that could save Mythic Productions if brought to life.
This story deserves to be told, Suraj thought, his heart pounding with excitement. I have to make this into a film. It's too good to leave buried in some forgotten corner of a parallel universe.
As the theatre faded around him and the dream came to an end, Suraj made a vow to himself. He would bring this story to the world.
And in doing so, he would revive his parents' legacy—and build one of his own.