The sky roared in a loud thunder and a flash of light glowed in the sky, just above
the duo. The blue bal of plasma was glowing at its peak, and it ruptured and
formed a ring within seconds. The continued to expand until it covered a finite
area and clouds erupted out of it. Violently and fiercely. Black monstrous clouds that
were apt to satisfy the vil age soil’s thirst of years. The clouds spread al over,
blackening the orange summer evening sky.
Another such ring appeared in Marathwada, a place in Maharashtra which was in
need of water. A mass suicide of 137 farmers was saved in the heavy rain that
turned their fields and their hearts green. They rejoiced, and sang and danced in
the rain they hadn't seen in years. It was no less than Holi, or the festival that
unites the entire vil age.
The third ring fulfil ed al the dreams of Dr. Shruti, who had staked her career on a
project that couldn't get wings because it hadn't rained in years. Her mission, to
bring water in her native vil age Rayachoty needed a final push.
Her innovation was in the form of a bag that had extreme elasticity, and could
stretch to store up to a gal on of water. These bags were special y designed to
contain and inlet and outlet, and could be placed anywhere in open. Easy to
maintain and repair, and simple to operate, these revolutionary bags were
waiting for heavy rain, which hadn't happened in past 2 months. Rayachoty was
drying up, and so were Shruti’s dreams of making an impact on this world. But
the rain happened in the evening of June 4, and the project took off. Within hours,
she had ended the water crisis of four vil ages in Tamil Nadu.
Ah, apart from clouds and water, Marathwada witnessed one more thing
sprouting out of the ring. A passenger airplane. The airplane was thrown away with
a jerk and it rotated freely in the air, before the pilots took control and took the
plane to a safe landing.
//a dialogue from airplane stuff on quora
Delhi had dried up, and people were lurking back on the streets. Police officials
became active instantly to avoid any post calamity accidents, and the metros were
emptied. People came out, and got busy recording a video of the mystic triangle
and accompanying rings that just saved a mil ion lives.
A murmur spread in the crowd as they saw a man flying above their heads. ‘He
saved us… that mystic man.’
‘He is our hero.’
//People cheered and eyc etc
Raman was exhausted. Every bit of his strength had been deployed during his
performance. Unable to stand on his feet, he reached the ground and began
searching for water.
. .Not a drop to drink.
The muse hadn't uttered a word for a long time. Knock knock, he said, without
saying.
No response came.
Am i dying too?
‘Not death- but worse. Lost you wil be, in the space between the spaces, Yes. A few
hours remain.’
‘How did they find the stones?’
Ramon realized he didn’t need to utter the words in his mind anymore. Instead,
he passed a wave of thought deep in his lattice, and a thoughtful response arrived.
We are becoming one.
Ramon took himself up in air, and crossed the black, angry clouds which were,
thankful y, not pouring water down anymore. He was Beyond the bed of
condensed water was the Sun, glowing and ready to burn the one it had inflicted a
curse upon. As the first ray of Sun touched the chosen one, he felt a burn, but a
burn so deep that burn convert his bones into ash. He trembled in pain.
‘Fuck……’ he screamed, and a black smoke gushed out of his mouth. The thick
fumes of black col ected themselves above Ramon’s head, blocking the sunlight
from reaching him.
‘Meet stretto , you must. My apprentice, he is.’
‘Hey…. black man,’ replied he, as he looked at the ghostly, smokey figure acting as
a needle when the sword failed.
‘R…. O….C….H….A’ Stretto screamed again.
‘I get it now….that’s al you can say, right?’
‘R…. O….C….H….A…. ’
‘Ohkay…. ’ he took a deep breath, watching the wound by Sun disappearing. ‘We
are a team of three now. Lets save the fucking city.’
‘Two. .not three.’
‘You can’t count? We’re three. .you, me and this Rocha guy.’
‘Are you a boy or a girl?’ He asked Stretto, sarcastical y.
‘Must become One, you and I.’ said the female voice from his insides.
‘Real y? You mean after the city saving, we-’ he couldn’t complete before the muse
interrupted.
‘No honey on moon there is. Find the stone you must. Die us al , if you fail.’
‘You know where they are?‘
‘Stolen today, they were…. before the dawn. Realized their power I have. .’
‘Where were they stolen from?’
‘From your landing, yes they were.’
11
‘Boss, he is a freak.’
‘He beat us like they wash clothes at ghat.’
‘He banged us boss...he banged us completely.’
The goons were not lying. It was evident from their trembling faces and rashed bodies.
Torn
clothes, bleeding heads, broken bones, everybody had severe damages internally and
externally, physically and psychologically.
Qadri looked at them with a feeling of
disgust.
The damages
done to
his men were the
second
to least of his concern. The least of his concern being the men themselves. What raged him
was the news of failure. You needed a nice blow, free-eaters.
Almost all of them were shaking, their eyes stretched wide, and
their mind
was
replaying the
film of recent past again and again. If you believe memories
of
a
lost love
are
most
haunting,
guess again.
The warriors in the gang, were not in a good condition either. They were barely able
to hold
themselves on their feet. But even they were finding it tough to deny the presence of
a
spirit
in the battlefield.
Qadri’s was looking at the heap of dead bodies in front of him. The streams of blood had
reddened the white tiled floor, and the smell was beginning to
fill inside
his
tower,
a godown
at the outskirts of Jahangirpuri.
But it did not matter. It was a sacrifice in his eyes, the cost must pay for victory.
‘He knows magic...black magic,’ someone yelled. ‘He beat us
like they
do a stray
dog,’ added
another muscled goon in a painful voice. He never dreamt of being beaten in a way he was.
He looked at them for a second, and fixed his gaze back upon the bloody heap. Did he say
something about magic? He asked himself, and the answer
he
got was
no less than winning a
lottery. I bet he has found the stone.
‘He grabbed Rajeshwar by his arm and swung him in a
circle,’ said
another man
in
of goons, pointing to an overly weighed pehelwan with a mustache that ran across his face.
His football sized face was red, and his head was down in shame. He was never seen after
that night.
‘He broke my everything,’ came a voice from a corner. His body had been twisted like
someone tried to tie a knot out of him.
Everyone giggled again, but Qadri was not in a mood to laugh. The only thing on his mind
was the plan: deliver the stone, take the money, flee away.
‘Maybe, you can keep the stone for yourself,’ his inner voice suggested him, but he blew it
away as soon as he attended to it.
‘She is a woman….a beautiful woman…..I saw her....’ said a short man who was physically
unruptured, but his psyche seemed certainly disturbed. Is the stone a woman?
‘Some of his screws fell off i guess,’ said one of his friends, and
everyone burst
into
another
laughter.
‘Yes. All of them,’ the short man said in a tone of amazement, blushing like a teenage girl.
He was humming a tune, murmuring an old old song about
meeting
someone and wondering
if they noticed us as well.
Qadri raised his head, staring at them with his stretched, devilish eyes.
Fear spread
in the
hall,
and everyone fell silent. Even the dogs stopped barking. The little girl was still crying, her
sobbings echoing in the hall. Her laments were horrifying, could melt the most heartless,
but
not Qadri. He was fuming. He didn’t move his eyes, without
dropping
his gaze, and
it chilled
everyone’s nerves.
‘QUITE HER,’ he screamed, and a man in a lab coat rushed closer to
the cage in
which Ipsa
was captured. He was doctor, and only he could silence the girl without killing her. The
girl
drowned into unconsciousness as soon as he injected propofol in her fragile arm.
‘Who was that woman?’ he screamed again, looking at the short man who was still dazzling.
‘She was the muse.’
Qadri’s ears were left stunned. He dived into the pool of thoughts.
//write muse story if required.
A smile pondered over his face as he wiped the stream of blood approaching his feet.
‘We are close to getting what we want.’ He rested his right leg over the other and lit a
cigarette. ‘Clean this shit and get yourself treated. He threw a bundle of 2000 rupee
denominations and the goons lurked at it as if it was their bone.’
His face had
lost its
color, and he
continued staring at the blood stream
touching his
shoe.
The
power can grant me many treasures. The stories he heard from them assured him that the
object has been found. He pulled out his iPhone 7 with shattered glass, and dialled a number.
‘Send the sooters.’
12
When Raman woke up, he wasn’t at the place where he had dropped his bum, as
long as he remembered. But after all the events of past, it was tough to be
completely sure. He opened his eyes, instead, in utter blackness. It could be his
room, but it was so dark that he could not guess where the walls might be. Not
even the reflection of light from outside perceived inside. It was as black as it
can ever be. He could even be in a black hole, who knows?
Raman touched himself. Alive. He rubbed his fingers over the soft fabric he had
found himself on. The smooth, silky touch was familiar to him. This was my
bed. He stretched his hand over the bed sheet to find the edges of the bed, and
relieved upon having found them. Probably on my bed. As he made the
discovery, a beam of light flashed on him from above and made a circle of
glowing white light around him. Outside the circle of light, everything was still
black. The flash was so intense that it dazzled him as he raised his head up. He
tried to look for the source of light, but could not manage to keep his eyes
opened.
He pressed his eyes with his fingers, to squeeze all the extra light out of them.
And when he opened them again, the light had faded. The shimmering
brightness had been dulled, the light seemed to be blocked by some objects.
Dark patches were formed over him and within the circle of light, indicating the
presence of many such patches. He looked up again, and the view froze his
senses.
They were clouds, a lot of tiny and dark red clusters of dense smoke, and they
were spread across the path of light like blood stains on a white bedsheet. From
below, it appeared to be white sky with red clouds falling from the space. As far
as he could see, there were clouds.
Raman’s heart was bouncing out of terror. Is this real?
He attempted to drag himself out of the spotlight, but failed to even shake his
finger. He could do nothing but watch the cluster of red masses like stars in the
sky. He kept looking up, seeing the clouds preparing for something. He heard a
thunder, and a drop from above touched his forehead. It woke him up from his
deadlocked view overhead, and the drop ran down his face. And he could do
nothing but watch it with bent eyes.
He tried to scream, but the vocals didn't respond. And then, it started to rain.
Rain of blood.
The red billows were showering him with blood, and he couldn't even close his
eyes. He pushed himself with all the force he could apply on himself, but he was
firm as a statue. The rain got heavier. and the blood filled his eyes and inside his
mouth.
He tried to jerk himself, but nothing moved. The rain was getting fierce every
moment, and so were his attempts to get off the way of the blood. He pushed
himself up again, and succeeded this time. He fell back, and staggered to control
himself. The was out of the light now, into the dark and fell off the bed.
He didn’t touch the floor. Raman yelled out his fear into an ear tearing scream, a vomit of the mind clutter.
Before he could realize, he was falling down in the blackness. The light was
going away from him, and he realized he made a mistake. Everything was still
black, and silent. Raman couldn't see anything, and he continued rocketing
down into nothingness.
Raman was flipped, twisted and whirled many times on his journey downwards,
or inwards. His pace increased, and so the fear of his bones becoming powder
when he’d touch the floor, someday.
All of a sudden, he collided with an invisible wall and passed through it like it
was made up of jelly. The other side was white. Spotlessly white.
And he crash landed on a red surface. What the hell?
His feet were dipped in the dense liquid like red surface, and smoke covered his legs up to the knees. He looked around. The irregular shaped floor was not more than a few metres long, and he began walking to reach the edge. As he stepped
forward, red smoke erupted out by the pressure of his feet. Raman was still not
able to convince himself of the authenticity of everything he was experiencing.
It could be a dream, or an illusion. But it was not. If you can’t wake up from a nightmare, may be you’re not aslee
p.
He was in the red clouds.
13
Qadri was lying on his bed in the dark. His eyes were wide open, filled with a
mix of excitement and fear. And then, the words of Guha reverberated in his
room. You can catch many small fishes, or you can catch one big fish.
It was Guha who had sown the seeds of desire for the power, who showed him
the dream that had now become his reality. And it bought forth an old memory.
‘The two stones. When apart, they are normal gemstones. But when together,
they are something else, something with unimaginable capabilities.’
‘I don’t understand. What do you mean... unimaginable capabilities?’ asked
Qadri.
‘ The Pale crystal is one of the 9 stones that were forged by the creators
themselves. It has the power to create new worlds. The creators gave it to King
Suran, the wilful ruler of the kingdom of Odysseus. But it was stolen by his own
daughter.’
‘That muse...what was her name, again?’ Qadri interrupted.
‘Vyana. She was also the first possessor of the stone.’
‘And what happened, then?
‘She was cast out. But it was not because of the stones, mind you, she was exiled
for falling in love,’ Guha explained, his round cornered spectacles hiding his
eyes.
‘And then, she was cursed by the Sun and…..’ Qadri added, suggesting him that
he understood the rest of the story.
‘No. something more happened, that most people do not know of.’
‘And what is that, teacher?’ both looked at each other and smiled. Teacher.
When I Tell You A Story: Book 1 (Black River Trilogy) Page 10
