Pruthvi pulled his glasses down and wiped all the dust away with his torn shirt. His eyes felt swollen. The prick around his amber eyeballs got worse, turning into a deep burning sensation and it wasn't due to the streaks of blood slithering down from his forehead dropping into his eyes making them bloodshot. He blew into his specs-twice -before he put them back on. He cleared his throat and coughed. Perhaps the feeling of revulsion bubbling like acid in his guts caused him to hack up.
The absolutely obnoxious woman, without looking at her great-grandson, walked aside at the stacked up rocks, Pruthvi's disdainful glare following her momentum. Her stick and the wooden slippers were creating sharp reverberating sound. The same, messy and crinkled saffron saree draped across her bony body covering from head to the ankles, her hand holding the crooked stick firm to support her hunched back. Her swagger was as slow as snail, but her saggy face and time chiseled eyes carried an expression that forever reminded him of a wild boar.
She gently dropped her stick down, and then herself to sit on the floor cross-legged, facing the rocks. Her thin, skeletal limbs shivered having them to bend over. The sound of the footsteps died and the quietness fell in the underground dimly lit chamber. Nevertheless, this sort of tranquility screamed all her sins. Pruthvi blinked, the burning sensation in his eyes getting intolerable when he thought of his parents, his innocent and disabled sister's parents, his complete family destroyed by this person who unfortunately was also a family.
Zarina Khan's jaw slightly dropped, her thin brown lips over the toothless gums finally moved. "You killed him."
Pruthvi's eyes averted from her to the rocks where the body laid crushed, and then back to her. "Oops!" He simply replied.
His reaction from outside might have sounded mild, but his insides felt heavy, burdened with a sudden guilt. For the first in his life, he has knowingly killed a person, although how deserving the later was.
"Shashi isn't going to be happy about it," she said, still staring at the rocks.
Pruthvi slightly flinched hearing Shashi's name but he tried not show it upon his face. "Is he here too?" He asked, with an edge in his voice, "What are you oldies doing down here, playing rummy?"
He took a few slow steps towards the rocks, his fist clenched holding the bag tight. His heart hammered with a surge of a fear and hatred at the same time, his gaze wandered around the hall as a measure to stay cautious.
"So you are hiding here?" he asked looking down at her, finally giving a halt to stand in the middle of her and the rocks, "And Doctor is shaking hell and heaven to find you."
"Perhaps you should go and give him my address," she said, her voice shaky.
"Oh, I so will," Pruthvi said, taking a step back, dropped his bag aside and comfortably sat on one of the rock, placing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands. "But first, we talk."
Zarina raised her tiny lashes, getting a good look at his face glistening with blood. Pruthvi twisted a smile, studying her eyes that had grown dull and cloudy as a result of too much suffering living in this closed area with a psycho.
"Why would you possibly comprehend that I would accept talking to you?" she asked.
"That's a good question," he said immediately, scratching his head. "Well you see, when I say we talk, that means I ask questions and you give straight answers, not the other way around."
Zarina scoffed, "You must be dreaming." She held her stick and tried lifting herself up to get away from him.
"Earthly Bind!"
YOU ARE READING
(Book 4) Hayden Mackay and The Fest of Vrindahina
Fantasy"One final question." I said. "Do I have to find out by myself about why I am called the Fire of Vengeance?" "Hayden..." "Now please don't tell me, that you don't know anything about it. Because I know, that you know." "And how did you know may I as...
