The Quellings Ep. 1

By Abhiram Pittala

The Quellings: Prelude

The Quellings is a set of short fictional stories filled with mystery, deceit, violence, and romance. Be aware that all the stories are FICTIONAL, and none of the events taken place in the story are real. Occasionally, there may be a spin-off in another universe written about in a different story. So, for those reading the Quellings, buckle up to embark on a suspenseful adventure.

Take care, Abhiram Pittala

The Quellings: A Filet Mignon

2022 Manhattan

Thunder crackled and boomed in the sky as the Black Sedan slowed down in front of the Manhattan apartment. Terry pushed open the door to his car before striking a match and attempting to light the Marlboro cigarette dangling from his mouth. As Terry expected, the small water droplets falling from the midnight sky quickly extinguished the match. 

Terry sighed, spitting the cigarette into his hands and dropping it into his pocket. Terry’s Ace Mark shoes were drenched in water as he stepped into a murky puddle next to a hungry sewer. He jammed his left hand into his left jacket pocket before buzzing the twelfth floor button. After about twenty seconds, the hatch made a ‘click’ sound, beckoning Terry to open the door.

Terry strolled into the elevator, preparing himself to go to the twelfth floor. He pressed the twelfth floor button and closed his eyes as the elevator boosted up. Within seconds, Terry was standing in front of the only room on the twelfth floor: Room 21.

Terry knocked on the door before being greeted by a Chinese woman who was wearing a white dress. Forgetting where he was, Terry stared at the flower patterns on the woman’s dress. He could imagine smelling the sweet scent of the Snapdragon flowers depicted on the woman’s white dress. 

“Hello?” an accented voice boomed, interrupting Terry’s thoughts. He shook his head, regaining his senses and remembering why he was here.

“Oh, uh, hi,” Terry stuttered. He pulled out his wallet sitting in his pants pockets and flipped out a gold shaded badge with the words NYPD printed on it. “My name is Detective Terry and I’m from the NYPD. Mind if I come in?”

“Uh, sure. Just take your shoes off before coming inside,” the woman said. Terry took off his spoiled Nike shoes before entering the apartment room. He was overwhelmed by the beige walls and the tiled floors. Terry carefully sat down at the round table placed in the middle of the room. He dared not to sit on the white sofa because of the fear of ruining it.

Terry looked at the TV mounted against the wall. Opposite to it was a small room that Terry guessed to be a kitchen. A tall, brown bookshelf was placed suspiciously against the balcony door. Terry’s eyes darted around the compact but elaborate room, noticing the mattress concealed beneath the sofa. 

“You don’t have a bedroom?” Terry asked the woman, intrigued. 

“No, but we have a bathroom by the entrance,” the woman claimed exasperatedly.,“Now can you please tell me what you want?”

“Right, about that,” Terry began to say, no longer playing beat around the bush. “A member of the NYPD known as Yuchen Lee had gone missing. We know that you, Mrs. Lee, is Yuchen’s divorced spouse. Can you please tell me everything you know about him?”

“Oh,” Mrs. Lee, or the woman murmured. She hesitated for a moment before switching the topic by saying, “Would you like anything to eat?”

Terry paused for a moment. Looking up, he exclaimed, “Yes please, I’ll take whatever you have!”

“Great,” Mrs. Lee said. “I’ll go prepare something in the kitchen. You can talk to me while I’m there!”

Saying so, Mrs. Lee got up and walked to the kitchen. Terry couldn’t see her as the kitchen was hidden by a wall. He also noticed the drops of sweat slipping down the side of her forehead.

“She must have never met a detective,” Terry concluded in his mind.

Terry could hear pots and pans being set onto the countertop. The mental noise they made echoed throughout the apartment room.

“When did you meet Yuchen?” Terry asked, pulling out his notepad to jot down notes.

“The summer of 2013,” Mrs. Lee replied faintly enough for Terry to hear. “I was at Liberty State Park when we met. I was on college vacation at the time when I discovered Yuchen, who also went to the same college.

“Where did you study?” Terry pursued. But instead of a reply, all he heard was the sound of oil crackling on a pan.

“Where did you study?” Terry repeated. This time, he got an answer.

“Seton Hall University,” Mrs. Lee responded, her voice louder than the crackling oil. “I was planning to go to Medical School, but before I knew it, I got married!”

“Huh,” Terry said. “Do you know anyone who had a problem with Yuchen?”

“Well,” Mrs. Lee's loud voice began to say. “There was my family. My family wanted me to marry a doctor, or someone who had a safe job. Yuchen was studying to become a detective, which was pretty risky. Many people in my family disliked this, and wanted him to change professions. But, despite their constant comments, we got married.”

“Anyone in particular?” Terry inquired.  The noise of the crackling oil stopped for a minute, but started once again. Terry found his mouth watering to a smoky aroma that escaped from the kitchen.

“My dad,” Mrs. Lee confirmed in a solemn voice. “and Margaret.”

“Margaret? Who’s that?” Terry asked.

“Before I met Yuchen, he was in an intimate relationship with this American girl named Margaret,” Mrs. Lee quickly affirmed. She seemed to hold her breath. “Xuèxīng dì měiguó rén,” she muttered in a loud tone but soft enough so that Terry couldn’t hear.

“So Yuchen broke up with Margaret after he met you?” Terry continued.

“It was very hard for Yuchen, as he loved Margaret a lot,” Mrs. Lee added. She sauntered out of the kitchen, taking a seat at the table.

Something told Terry to stop talking and look into Mrs. Lee’s eyes for a moment. He did so, and began to silently compare her face with a gleaming, white chrysanthemum.

“So, uh,” Terry blurted, shaking himself out of his trance. He looked at his empty notepad, realizing that he hadn’t jotted down any notes like he had wished to do so. But once again, Terry’s instinct told him to close the notepad as he wouldn’t need it. There was something about Mrs. Lee’s glistening face that would help him remember every little thing she said.

“How did Yuchen treat you as a wife?” Terry asked, now completely forced out of his trance. 

“He was a very good husband, and devoted his entire life to me,” Mrs. Lee answered. She closed her eyes and smiled, like she was remembering Yuchen. “He devoted his entire life to me after we got married. Although we didn’t have a happy life together, we had a strong and loving relationship.”

“What do you mean when you didn’t have a happy life together,” Terry questioned, making air quotes.

“Margaret had taken all our money, and we were left with around $300 dollars to start a life together. Since Yuchen was an orphan, and my parents didn’t agree to our marriage, we weren’t given any parental wealth. $300 can’t even support us for 4 days, let alone an entire life!” Mrs. Lee explained. She hesitated for a second. “But Yuchen didn’t try to stop her,” she elaborated after a minute of silence.

“Anyway,” Terry said, his mouth watering and his stomach empty like a vacant. “I’m starving!”

Right, uh, just give me a second,” Mrs. Lee stammered, rushing back into the kitchen. She brought out a plate and placed it in front of Terry.

Terry was unable to describe how good the food looked. The filet mignon seemed to glitter in the dim ceiling light. Its texture looked like freshly made China wood, and the smell of the red wine sauce pervaded Terry’s nose. Terry could already feel his stomach filling just by looking at the food. 

And the mushroom. Just by looking at it, Terry could tell that the mushroom had a smoky flavor that would blend within the filet mignon but make his mouth water.

Terry picked up the metal fork with his left hand while picking up the knife with his right hand. He plunged the fork into the filet mignon like a spear impaling a fish. In a still position, he cut the piece of the filet using his knife. He made sure to get the piece with the most wine sauce and a mushroom on top.

Terry placed the fork in his mouth and pulled the food off the points. It took a minute for Terry to process the excellent taste of the filet mignon. It was the juiciest yet most tender piece of meat he had ever tasted. The texture was smooth, but it concealed what seemed to Terry a new world of taste. The mushroom, like Terry predicted, blended in with the color of the meat but had a distinctive smoky flavor.

“This tastes…AMAZING!” Terry exclaimed after about a minute of enjoyment. His curious yet recharged eyes darted around, looking for Mrs. Lee. He soon realized that Mrs. Lee was in the kitchen. Her face popped out of the kitchen. 

“You like it?” she asked, and an odd smile spread across her face.

“Yeah, the meat is the best part! Did you use any special ingredient?” Terry asked eagerly.

“I used my secret ingredient,” Mrs. Lee said. “Would you like to know what it is!” Terry responded by nodding his head up and down about 20 times.

“Oh, so sweet! Then would you come here? I would show you the secret ingredient, and maybe something else!” Mrs. Lee called out in a suspiciously sweet voice.

Every one of Terry’s instincts told him not to go, but he seemed oblivious to his senses. He got up from his chair quickly, not acknowledging that he pushed it over. He rushed on over to the kitchen, ready for his surprise. Not even the sound of a drawer opening, and a sharp object squealing against a tile stopped him.

2 Weeks  Later..

OFFICIAL POLICE STATEMENT: ON FEBRUARY 15th, 2022, THE BODY OF THE MISSING TERRY BOWEN WAS FOUND IN AN EMPTY CEMENT CAN HIDDEN AT A CONSTRUCTION SITE. ALTHOUGH THE KILLER IS YET TO BE FOUND, A POST MORTEM REPORT REVEALED THAT TERRY HAD CANNIBALIZED RIGHT BEFORE DEATH. THE REPORT WAS ALSO ABLE TO UNCOVER WHO THE LATTER HAD CANNIBALIZED. THE REPORT SHOWS THAT TERRY HAD CONSUMED THE BODY OF YUCHEN LEE, AGE 31, WHO HAD ALSO BEEN MISSING FOR MANY WEEKS. DETAILS WILL BE RELEASED LATER.

A story written by Abhiram Pittala