Nakshatra- The empire of Nightmares and Dreams.

Episode VII- Crimson

Rajwada Palace

Ripping the covers off his sweaty body, he sat panting heavily. Imperceptible claws scraped the surface of a humble jewel beating wildly in his chest. A thick sheen of sweat covered his naked body. His hands trembled terribly as he gazed at big palms covered in thick red fluid. The same aroma wafted off around his nose. His mouth and chest. As daylight strikes the darkness of sleepy castle, with stoned eyes he takes in reality. The little fear he experienced, evaporated. Embracing the sin, the wild nature, and monstrosity in defeat, the chiseled man leaves the silk covers now colored with a shade of cruelty and stands in front of a foot-length mirror.

As the sunlight touches the corner of diamond embedded borders, they emit a golden glow and surround his stance. In an undressed state with dried blood covering his chest and face, the man looks no less than a victorious king of hell who has fought a legion of angels questioning his sanity. Pulling at his hair, blinking the moisture- slowly flooding his eyes, he marches towards the bathroom intending to burn the covers and mattress after washing the transgression sticking to his glistening flesh.

The moment he was about to take shower, distant music of drums and clarinet reached his ears. His jaw twitched and inexplainable rage flared in frozen veins.

If God wasn't testing his patience enough, his mother was ready to add more spice. The clueless and innocent girl, who has been dreaming to become his new bride had no idea about the hell awaiting her. He wondered how long she'll stay before running for hills to save her dear life after learning the history of this forsaken family. A mere thought of her started pooling saliva at the back of his mouth. His fists clenched. That scent of hers, sandalwood with a hint of honey was alluring. He could detect it from miles. The innocence of an untouched girl called for his sinful side, begging to turn her into a woman. With a growl, he punched the bathroom wall. A crack boomed followed by a fist-sized dent on white tiles. By thinking about this new girl, he was tainting the memory of his first wife, his one true love.

The lust enthralling his body slowly receded.

'It wasn't you, but the call of wild.'

Shadows whispered and he tensed. Of course, who else could that be?

Dressing into his business suit, the royal of Rajwada Palace puts the mattress and covers on fire, and watching it erupting in flames provided a sense of peace to his heart. The culprit was burning the evidence of a forgetful crime, thinking no one will know, but God was watching everything. Only if he had any idea what happened last night. There's no surprise he has no memory. He never does and hopefully, in the future, this remains the same. Otherwise, the day he carried even the smallest fragment of nightly activities; nobody could save him from breaking into a thousand pieces. Of all the things in the world, he never wanted to become a blood-thirsty monster.