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A rusted metal bunk-bed stood against the left wall of the cell. The green metal paint was flaking away, exposing the corroded metal underneath. The side of an old metal mesh that made up the base of the bed was visible under a smelly, stained, mouldy mattress. An old rickety wooden chair stood against the opposite wall. It didn't take me long to decide which surface to go sit on. The chair squeeked loudly under my weight. I slumped against the chair's backrest and face-palmed. 'Double murder', I thought, 'India has the death penalty. I am done for.' While trying to suppress the sick feeling in my stomach, I desperately tried to rationalize my situation. 'How can they prove I killed them? It was months ago. Over half a year! Was my DNA on one of the bodies? Is that even possible after months in the water? How can they link me to the deaths? The car? The knife?' "Matthew de Berg", I heard after a little while. With a few metallic clacks, the old rusty door unlocked and was opened. "Come with me for your interview", the officer ordered while handcuffing me again. Wondering what was in stock for me, I walked ahead of the officer down the hallway to an office on the left. It all looked like what you would expect of a jail in a country like this. Dirty, un-kept, worn out, smelly, dark, horrible. The interrogation would probably be rather violent. I recalled seeing programs on television about people ending up in an Indian jail or prison, having to sign forced, untrue confessions under the threat of beatings or other kinds of torture.

"Please uncuff this man and leave us, officer Bawa", the person sitting in a padded chair at a heavy wooden table kindly said. After doing so, the officer left and the door closed. "Please mister de Berg, have a seat", the person kindly requested, while pointing to another padded chair on the opposite side of the table. I sat down and rest my hands on the surface. "Let me introduce myself. I am inspector Chadha, head of this department. First of all, would you like some coffee or tea?" "Eh, I'd like a glass of water, please", I hoarsely answered. Chadha reached for the jug of water standing at the edge of the table and poured himself and me a glass. I had little to no reservations and emptied it in one gulp, which made the officer chuckle. He poured me another glass. "Mister de Berg", Chadha started while reading from a sheet of paper, "You were apprehended because you have been spotted in, and actually were caught driving a 1997 Nissan Patrol with a license plate linked to one of two persons, whose skeletal remains were found two months ago. The owner of the vehicle was wanted for various crimes. I want to know where you found this car and how it came in your possession. It most likely was at, or at least near the last place where the owner must have been before he and his companion were killed and thrown into the river." "Killed?", I asked, trying to sound as clueless as I could. "Killed, yes!", Chadha answered loudly. "Both skeletons had signs of severe trauma to the neck and head. They were killed and most likely thrown into the river. Now since you're the only lead I have on their case and stole their car, you are under suspicion." "I didn't steal their car!", I grumbled. "And how would you know? I could've bought it off of some malicious car dealer who stol...." "Because the car is still on the skeleton's name!', Chadha shouted. "Skeletons do not drive cars, mister de Berg! Not here in India at least. Maybe they do in the Netherlands!? A car can not be sold without reporting it to the local authorities to have the owner legally changed! So that means you either found the abandoned car, or..." Chadha shifted the chair closer to the table and looked me in my eyes," Or that you killed him and his companion, and took the car." The officer leaned back again in his chair and took a sip of water. "And besides, tell me mister de Berg, how many people leave their car unlocked with the key inside? You have possession of the key. How would that be possible if it would have been washed down the river together with the bodies? And please do not tell me that you just happened to have found the key washed ashore." I sighed. Chadha reached into a gray paper file folder and threw the scarred remains of a passport on the table in front of me. "This is yours, I believe." I opened the booklet. Most pages were burnt badly. But the plastic one containing my picture, name and address was in too good of a condition for me to deny the document to be mine. "You've crashed the car you loaned and managed to get out of the wreck before burning alive. You stumbled onto these two persons in some way, who were going about their business, robbed them, killed them, tossed their bodies into the river, and took their car. Likely scenario, isn't it?" "Their business...", I scoffed under my breath. Chadha looked at me for a few moments in silence. "Yes. You know more about these two persons, don't you? We've had our eyes on them for a good while. They are wanted for various crimes. Theft, robbery..." "Poaching", I interrupted him. "Luring animals into snares. Shooting them with a tranquilizer gun. Putting them in cages. Killing them, skinning them, selling their pelts." Thinking about finding that pile of pelts in the back of the car and the metal tool case with the scalpels took me back to when I found Bagheera. Flash-backs of being beaten up, the knife slicing my chest, and later, stabbing into my left thigh. The anger, the pain, the blinding rage. The sight of two lifeless bodies on the ground... The room turned into a hazy shim. My heart throbbed in my head. Sweat ran down my face. Fists clenched. "Remain calm, mister van Berg!" Chadha and Bawa, who Chadha had hastily summoned, grabbed either side of me firmly and pushed me back down into my chair with force. The vivid flash-back and the rage ebbed away. My breathing was quick and superficial, and I noticed small trickles of blood on the table under my hands. There were two rows of four bleeding cuts in the palm of my hands where my nails had dug into the flesh. "I think I have seen enough, mister de Berg", inspector Chadha decidedly said after getting back into his chair. "Bawa, cuff him up and escort him back to his cell."

The stinky, mouldy mattress couldn't bother me any more. Daylight had faded away. A small light bulb at the end of an electric wire from a hole in the ceiling cast a sharp, cold light onto the rough stone walls and the bare concrete floor. Aimlessly, I stared to the dirty underside of the bunk above mine. I should've kept myself under control. Now they had what they wanted. My violent reaction would undoubtedly be seen as a contribution to a confession that I did what I was accused for. The temperature in my cell dropped as the evening progressed. The cold air made me shiver. I didn't sleep that night. The days went by agonizingly slow. I was constantly torn between feelings of intense anger for being in this position, and a sense of hopelessness. Not counting the bleak, cold and dirty cell I was kept in, Bawa, who apparently was one of the officers assigned to guard my cell, did not treat me badly at all. I was allowed to go to the toilet and take showers in the staff bathroom. The feeling of warm water on my skin felt so wonderful after all that time. The food I was given obviously wasn't star-class either, but definitely wasn't anything like the stale bread and gone off meat one tends to hear about so often. After the months I've spent living as a wolf, it even seemed like a welcome treat. The morning of the fifth day, a loud tap against one of the metal bars of the cell-door woke me up. "Time for your second interview, mister de Berg", Chadha said, and he ordered Bawa to unlock the door.

"So, What caused your rage the last time we spoke? Poaching? Is that what they were doing when you found them? Did that make you so angry when you thought back of it?" A few moments of silence followed. I looked at the wooden grains of the table's surface. Like last time, Chadha was sitting opposite of me, but had requested Bawa's presence during the interrogation after my last outburst. "Your silence isn't helping, mister de Berg, and your outburst only confirms my suspicions", Chadha said with a clear tone of irritation in his voice. I leaned back and sighed, "I did not find these two bastards. They found me." Chadha looked at me confused. "What do you mean?" "After my crash, I was aimlessly wandering around. All my kit was lost in the wreck. Maps, navigation, everything. I was hopelessly lost. Suddenly, near a river that I was following down-stream in the hope to find a town or village, I saw a cage in a clearing in the forest. A black panther was inside of it." Chadha leaned forward and looked at me with great interest. "When I approached to check out the animal, I felt a hard kick that caused me to slam against the bars, followed by another kick. These two poachers beat me up and accused me for wanting to steal that panther. They cut my chest up with a knife, stabbed it in my left thigh and told me they'd gut me." "Oh my god", Bawa stumbled. "Do you have any evidence to back this up?", Chadha asked. "I need to stand up for this." "Go ahead", the inspector answered. I got out of my chair, took my shirt off, and lowered my jeans far enough to uncover the scar on my left thigh. Chadha and Bawa looked at my scars in silence. After buttoning my jeans back up and putting my shirt on, I sat down. "Your rage...", Chadha said. "Yes. My rage. The pain triggered it. And when it was over, both were dead. One I kicked against the cage, which caused him to break his neck and jaw. The other I kicked against his larynx, causing him to suffocate. Seeing what I had done, I felt horrible. I never realized that I was able to do such a thing. But what option did I have?" "Mmmhmm. So an act of self defence. That changes matters a bit. Though I am wondering, what happened to the panther?" "I dislocated the padlock with a crow-bar. The panther leaped out and ran away into the forest. The animal didn't even look back." "Probably for the better", Bawa said. "Who knows what it could have done to you." I stared at Bawa, "I am not so sure about that. I considered my wounds to be lethal. I've had no proper food in days and had no way of cleaning the wounds up properly. So I assumed they would get infected and I'd be dead within days. At least I would've been spared a slow and agonizing death, but that did not happen for whatever reason. But now I am here. and I know India has the death penalty, and I am confessing to a double murd..." "Like I said", Chadha interrupted me, "Your confession changes matters. Yes. You've killed them. But I can clearly see this as an act of self defence. The scars on your body confirm this, though having more evidence would help greatly in your defense." Now I was struck with a dilemma. I could give Chadha the location of the old camp-site. They could at least see the remains of the cage. And to a trained inspector's eye, I assumed that it would be obvious that it was used as a camp-site. But on the other hand, by now, my pack-mates would be looking for me. And quite surely, the camp-site would be the first location they would go to. "I... don't have any evidence", I said with a sigh. "My story and scars you just saw are all that I have to back my story up. I was delirious from hunger, thirst and from blood loss. I've almost no recollection about what happened afterwards and how I found my way to safety." Chadha rubbed his chin. "Well, we do have the location where you crashed the loaned car. We can just go from there. Bawa, escort him back to his cell. Thank you for your statement, mister de Berg. I'll come back to you later."

A bright flash of lightning instantly followed by a loud clap of thunder broke that afternoon's monotone silence. The suddenness of it startled me. I got up from the bunk bed and walked to the small, square barred hole in the wall. Most of the view it offered was taken up by a blind wall of a tall building, opposite to the back of the police station at the other side of a narrow alleyway. If I pressed my head against the steel bars, I could just about make out the ominous, angry black and gray sky above. I inhaled the scent of the fresh rain falling on the pavement. A good thunderstorm was something that I always enjoyed in the forest. The trees scattered the rolling sound of thunder around interestingly, and the rain made all the vegetation release the most wonderful fragrances. The wolves however just found it a nuisance that would get them wet, resulting in a muddy and messy coat. I just found rain refreshing. Lala always liked to make fun of me because I enjoyed rain. Like she liked to make fun of me for many things. I was very fond of her though. Like I was of my other pack-mates. My nose stung and moments later, tears ran down my cheeks. I would never see them again. I would most probably spend the rest of my life rotting away in some stinking Indian prison. The afternoon thunderstorm subsided and things calmed down again. The afternoon changed to evening. I had little desire to finish my plate of food that night. Once again, I was cold during the night. Even the thin blanket officer Bawa brought for me made little difference. How much I missed the coziness and warmth of Alexander and Luri's den. Their love and affection like only wolves can give. I thought about Sura and Akru, who once again would loose a human brother. Lala, Bagheera and Baloo. My other pack-mates. It was all over. The Seeonee pack's territory wasn't very far away from where I crashed. The perimeter of the investigation Chadha would order would start there, and maybe a week, or two weeks before it would tangent, and then cross over into the pack's grounds? The wolves would be clever enough to go into hiding, or move away. But my den at the lake would be discovered with all the things I managed to gather over the period of a few months. My finger prints would be all over them of course. I've kept my whereabouts after rescuing Bagheera to myself for that reason. I didn't want that area to be discovered, ever.

As the days went by, my mood grew darker and darker. I tried to force myself to keep eating and drinking, but more often than not, I couldn't swallow any food. I skipped showers and just sat on the cold concrete floor staring ahead of me, or lay on the filthy mattress in a light slumber. Violent nightmares about my adoptive family being chased away from their dens, shot, killed or poisoned by commissioned hunters haunted me during the cold and dark nights. My mind formed crosshairs. My vision blurred outside of them. It slowly panned left. Further and further. It stopped for a little while. Twigs and leafs hanging in front blurred to an almost translucent state as it focused on a dark hole in the distance. The den. THE den. A loud pop. Sounds of cheering voices. A bloody trophee carried away.

"Mister de Berg! Hello? Matthew!"

Bawa stood in front of my cell. "Inspector Chadha wants to see you. I think he has good news to share!" With effort, I raised my stiff body up from the concrete floor and staggered to the cell door. "You look very pale. I think what Chadha has to tell you will make you feel a lot better", Bawa smiled. "But please, go shower first." The slight smile I tried to fake while I passed him on my way out of my cell went by unnoticed. After showering, I looked myself over in the small mirror before I shaved. I didn't recognize myself. These weeks here had taken their toll on me. My skin was pale, my bloodshot eyes sunk in their sockets with bags underneath because of chronic lack of sleep.

I was escorted to the same room I was interrogated in on earlier occasions. "Ah! Mister de Berg!", inspector Chadha smiled warmly. "Have I got news for you! Please sit down. Would you be so kind and bring him some warm tea, Bawa? He looks like he can use a warm up." Reluctantly, I sipped the sweetened piping hot liquid out of the cup. "Well, mister de Berg. Sorry for taking so long, but things here in India are a bit more conservative than you are used to in your home country, I'm afraid. If you agree to let me handle your case, it will be in court next week and the outcome will be in your favour. The judge happens to be someone I know quite well. When he heard about your statement about those poachers, he grew sympathetic for you. Of course you are entitled to a state issued lawyer, but if you choose that option, I can not help you and you will be on your own. It can take months or even years for your case to get to court. It's your choice." Chadha leaned back in his seat, sipping his tea. "What does 'in my favour' exactly imply?", I slowly asked. "Well", Chadha answered, "You acted in self defense, but can not provide any evidence to support your case except of your scars. Now I could order an extensive investigation to explore the area of your crash which would take weeks, if not months. Even if the odds are in our favour, we might find some eroded away left overs of a camp? No DNA, no footprints, nothing after all these months. So that would be a waste of my time, your time, and our effort. The judge is willing to accept your statement and reduce the charge from double murder to involuntary manslaughter, taking the fact that you were beaten up into account. The sentence will most probably be very lenient." "I looked Chadha in his eyes without twitching a muscle and almost inaudibly spoke "I will accept your offer." "Good man", he said. You will receive some more formal clothing for your hearing. Now, go and have some more rest. You look very poorly indeed."

The actual court session was a farce, only put up for formal reasons, and was over in as little as fifteen minutes. My case that started off as a double-murder was leveled down to involuntary manslaughter, like Chadha said it would be. It ended up levelled down even further because the judge accepted the confession Chadha noted down of me about being beaten and stabbed right before I took the lives of the poachers. With Chadha and Bawa at either side me of me, I meekly sat in the accused bench and listened to the proceedings. "Mister de Berg, this court holds you responsible for involuntary manslaughter. However, given the gruesome circumstances under which you were at the time, and that you clearly acted in self defence, this court will drop that charge, and not ask for any further prosecution. You will be deported back to your native country, The Netherlands." If the judge's verdict would've been life-long imprisonment in India, I wouldn't even be much sadder than I was hearing this outcome. Deportation. In a haze, I went through the formalities of greeting the court members, and was being escorted out of the room.

"You don't seem very happy. mister de Berg", Bawa remarked while looking at me through the rear view mirror. "I am sure he is very relieved", Chadha said to Bawa before turning to me. "You will be on your way back home in a few days, mister de Berg." I gazed through the window to the landscape moving by. In the distance in between the buildings, I could make out the tree-line of the forest. Once again I felt a lump in my throat. "We will bring you to a hotel in this town. You will stay there until tomorrow afternoon when you shall be picked up by customs officers who shall escort you to the airport where you will be deported to The Netherlands."

G-forces pressed me in the air plane seat. I gazed out of the small port-side window down to the receding tarmac of the runway the air plane was taking off from. Tarmac, then buildings, followed by forests and countryside, before a thick layer of stratus clouds blanketed everything up. I sighed, leaned back and closed my eyes.