《Curse of the Porcupine》


 Prologue

    It was the dead of night, and not a soul was awake, save for the mullah walking through the narrow village streets. His worn-out leather sandals lightly grazed the dusty floor, either side of which there were flowing gutters that hugged the mud bricked walls of the huddled houses. The moon was shining brightly and it made the henna in his beard glint, like a fire in the darkness. He was chanting in a whisper as he put his hand into the small tattered sack he was carrying. He carefully pulled his slightly bleeding hand out revealing long, pointy porcupine quills.


    He quickly chucked a few of them at the roof of the house to his right, and then to the one on his left. Each of them landed with a series of soft hollow clinks. He continued to do this with every house he passed by until he reached the masjid at the end of the village. He raised the last of the quills in his now bloody hand and chucked them as hard as he could towards the roof. The quills landed on the dome and slid down slowly until they rested on the edges.


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    The mullah smiled as he wiped the bloody hand on his hennaed beard, that looked like a blazing fire now in the early dawn light.


    There was a menacing grin on his face as he entered the masjid. There were a few people already inside, softly praying to themselves in the front row and had not noticed his presence. These were the most pious the village had to offer, a number that had been dwindling with every passing year.


    The mullah pulled out a sharp knife and slowly made his way to the muezzin.


    It was time to sound the call to prayer.

 Chapter 1

    A few hours earlier¡­


    ¡°Now can you finally admit we¡¯re lost?¡± said Aleena sitting upright in the passenger seat of the car, her eyes wide open looking through the windshield. All she could see was the same winding, uneven dirt road that they had been on for hours and the same set of dark trees and shrubbery passing by in the darkness like shadows, as if she was on a film set. She swiped at her long, dark hair for the millionth time to keep it aside from her vision, only for it to return to its position a few seconds later. The car shook as it travelled on the uneven road making her slightly sick.


    ¡°We¡¯re not lost, okay,¡± replied Daniyal, frustrated as he began to fiddle with the radio to put yet another rock remix of a religious song, which most of them had grown frustrated with. ¡°I told you, I¡¯ve been here before.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been saying that for hours, Daniyal,¡± said Hina from the back, just as frustrated as her friend. ¡°Why did you have to get away from the highway?¡±


    ¡°Trust me,¡± said Daniyal. ¡°When you see the view I found last month, you¡¯ll forget everything about us being lost.¡±


    ¡°Aha! So we are lost? You admit it,¡± Aleena jumped in.


    ¡°What? No, I didn¡¯t¡­¡±


    ¡°No, you said it!¡± said Hina, sitting up. ¡°Just admit it!¡±


    ¡°Relax, Hina,¡± said Faizan, her boyfriend, sitting next to her in the middle seat. ¡°We¡¯ll find the highway, don¡¯t worry.¡±


    Hina slapped away his arm as he made a move to comfort her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry?! We¡¯re in the middle of fucking nowhere! Don¡¯t tell me not to worry!¡±


    Faizan sighed as she moved away from him to look outside the side window. Normally, he would have persisted and tried to win her back but he was starting to lose patience with her and had stopped trying. She seemed to get mad at him over anything nowadays. He had tried so many times to spend some quality time with her in Karachi but she had made sure that they had not been alone by making the excuse that she wanted to spend time with Aleena. It had frustrated Faizan a lot. Where had everything gone wrong?


    He turned to his right and looked towards Khalid, an old friend of his, who was laying down in his seat looking around groggily. He clearly wanted to sleep but the worrying situation they were in meant he was too stressed to do so. Faizan knew there was no point asking him for advice because he knew he would repeat the same thing he always did, that it¡¯s haram to have a girlfriend and that this is God¡¯s way of leading him to the straight path. What bullshit.


    Faizan sat awkwardly in the middle seat, with his hands crossed over, as Aleena and Daniyal continued to argue at regular intervals in the front. The music, the sense of dread from their being lost and the intense feelings of self-pity were all jousting in his mind and making it hurt severely. Why was she acting this way? Does she not love me? Are we even going to make it home?


    Home is where the heart is, sang the radio.


    God, I¡¯m so done with this music.


    He looked towards Hina and could not help admiring her. Even in the dark, her immaculate pale skin reflected the moonlight that was on her side and her green contacts gleamed, making her look ferocious with her furrowed eyebrows. The sexual fantasies he had with her began playing in his head. This only served to confuse the thoughts racing in his mind, because now he felt all extremes of emotions for her, including horniness. Maybe that¡¯s what love is.


    He watched as her eyes opened wide in surprise and she sat up, bringing him back to reality. She was looking very fixated at something and he followed her gaze.


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    ¡°Oh my god, are those buildings over there?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Where?¡± they all asked in unison. Faizan felt Khalid sit up for the first time since they had gotten lost. He was straining his neck to the side to look past Faizan¡¯s bushy curly hair to where Hina was indicating.


    ¡°Over there, do you see that? There¡¯s a light there and¡­ I think I see some buildings there too. Is that a village?¡±


    Daniyal frowned. ¡°We would have seen a sign board or something if there was a village here. Besides, I don¡¯t remember any being around here.¡±


    ¡°Oh, please, as if you know anything about where we are right now-¡± muttered Aleena.


    ¡°Guys, please. Don¡¯t start arguing again, we need to stay calm,¡± cut in Faizan. ¡°Just stay positive. Everything will be-¡±


    He was cut off by the sound of the engine sputtering and the car slowing down. Daniyal let out a cry of frustration and slammed his fist on the horn.


    ¡°You were saying?¡± said Hina turning to him and glaring. There was venom in her eyes. Faizan understood why she would be annoyed but that wasn¡¯t a look of annoyance. It was pure hate.


    They stopped the car in the middle of the road (as if there would be anyone passing by would need space) and Daniyal propped up the bonnet and examined the engine with Khalid. The rest of them were standing near the trunk, where Aleena was taking inventory of whatever they had left. Hina was avoiding Faizan¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°We really need to stock up on stuff soon. We barely have any water left and all we have is snacks for eating,¡± informed Aleena.


    ¡°Maybe we can do that at the village,¡± suggested Hina. ¡°It can¡¯t be that far.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope the guys manage to get the car working.¡±


    ¡°At least they¡¯re being helpful¡­¡± The subtle dig was not lost on Faizan as he clenched his fist, doing his best to control the surge of anger he felt. It was not enough.


    ¡°What the fuck is your problem with me?¡± he blurted out suddenly surprising both of the girls.


    It took a moment for Hina to get her voice back but she retaliated with ferocity. ¡°With me?! You¡¯re the one who''s been saying bullshit throughout the whole car ride. Why can¡¯t you just shut the fuck up for once?¡±


    Aleena tried to stop them from arguing by trying to tell Faizan to stop, since she knew well that Hina was too stubborn to stop. All this ended up in him being even more angry at her.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell her to stop for once?¡± he demanded.


    She sighed and moved away from them, and was glad when Daniyal returned, making them both stop as they turned to him for some good news. He was looking between both of them awkwardly, trying to decide if he should say something about the argument but decided he was too tired to care.


    ¡°The car¡¯s throttle is kind of fucked up but Khalid and I managed to get it to work somewhat. This means we can drive but not at more than 40 so we really do need to find a mechanic.¡±


    ¡°What about the village there?¡± said Hina.


    Daniyal thought for a moment as he looked towards the village buildings and then to his phone to check for signals. ¡°Yeah, I think we should check the village out at least. The car needs to get serviced, and we all need to get some rest too. We¡¯ve been in the car for way too long.¡±


    ¡°Do you think it will be safe?¡± asked Aleena. ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea of us staying in some strange place.¡±


    ¡°It will be fine, don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be willing to help us out for a fee. We¡¯ll be careful,¡± said Daniyal, moving towards the front door. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get moving. Back to the car.


    Hina put a reassuring shoulder around Aleena, who smiled at her as they both got inside the car. Faizan felt a pang of jealousy which he quickly put away. He wished Hina would do the same with him, even just a fraction of the same affection she had for her friend. This time Faizan sat at the window seat, with Aleena in the middle and Hina next to her. He made sure that he was looking away from his girlfriend at all times.


    The car trundled at a slow pace as the engine rattled making the car shake, clearly not happy about having to operate with the throttle in such bad shape. He regretted not sitting in the front when he saw Aleena comforting Hina in a bid to distract her. He clenched his fist and tried his best to stay calm. It worked this time.


    As they continued following the road towards the light in the village, there started appearing small abandoned structures and fields alongside the dark green forest signalling the start of the village outskirts. Before long, they were quietly moving in the narrow village streets between the mud-brick buildings. They did not see a single soul in the darkness save for some mangy stray dogs and lizards slinking here and there.


    ¡°Who do we even ask for help here?¡± asked Aleena quietly. ¡°It looks like everyone¡¯s asleep.¡±


    ¡°Maybe not everyone,¡± said Hina pointing at the light. The light turned out to be a window in one of the few two storey buildings in the village. ¡°Maybe we could ask them.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a big house too,¡± said Daniyal. ¡°It means the owner must be rich and must have some ties to the city. He might know how we could get some help.¡±


    Daniyal led the car towards the house, the car engine growling softly but still not managing to cut through the silent dead of the night. All of them were quiet as they approached the house, no one daring to interrupt the silence. They eventually reached the front gate of the house, which had a small incline in front that made it barely possible for the car to be able to turn in the narrow street. No one made a move to get out until Daniyal hesitantly left the car. There was a small breeze outside that sent a chill down their spines. The smell of hay and manure could be smelt distinctly in the air, in addition to the smelly water in the open gutter streams running down the side.


    Daniyal and Khalid made their way to the gate, looking for the bell with their phone flashlights, and pressed it before freezing in place. None of them knew what they were going to say. Faizan stood with Aleena and Hina, although he kept his back to his girlfriend, who did the same.


    They stood frozen to their spots for what seemed like an eternity before they heard the various locks of the front door being opened one by one. This was followed by footsteps that slowly shuffled across the dusty floor to the gate, their breaths held in anticipation as they drew closer. Eventually, the small door in the gate creaked open and the first thing they saw was a glint.


    Of a 12-gauge shotgun.

 Chapter 2

    Daniyal and Khalid were the first ones to react and they quickly retreated, holding their hands up, as they yelled in a flustered manner. Aleena huddled over Hina, making sure she was protected while Faizan quickly moved to do the same. He stopped when he realized the gun was trained on him.


    The middle-aged man holding the shotgun had a very brown, tan skin and he wore a vest covered in sweat stains along with a light blue shalwar, loose pyjama-like trousers. He did not utter a single word as he kept the shotgun pointed at him. Daniyal and Khalid had stopped retreating but still had their hands up, their legs shaking in fear.


    After a brief silence, Daniyal hesitantly spoke, ¡°Please, we mean no harm. We just needed some help.¡±


    The man furrowed his eyebrows, as if annoyed to hear them talk in Urdu. Faizan realised the man was eating paan (tobacco in leaves), which was why he had still not uttered a single word. The man put the shotgun to his side and then raised a finger at them, indicating to them to wait a minute as he hurried back to the house. Faizan figured the guy didn¡¯t speak Urdu but probably understood it.


    Daniyal and Khalid relaxed their shoulders and let out a deep sigh of relief. The former turned back to the rest of them and laughed. ¡°What a day this has been,¡± he declared.


    Aleena lifted Hina up and smoothed down her clothes, seemingly embarrassed by her reaction. Hina, however, was smiling from relief but her smile narrowed when she looked at Faizan.


    Was she still really mad?


    The front door of the house opened behind the gate and he heard a lady talking from inside the house in a heavy dialect of Punjabi - a language he didn¡¯t have the best grasp of. The door in the gate opened again and this time the man had let go of his shotgun and was joined by another one - a burly looking young man wearing an immaculate white shalwar kameez with a face that did not suit his stature at all. He had a very kind looking, clean shaven face, with glasses and what looked like airpods in his ears. He clearly did not belong to the village.


    The young man approached Daniyal and Khalid, who were hesitant, until they were greeted by the man in a very clear Urdu accent, who assured them that everything was fine and that the landlord of the house, the middle-aged man who stood at the door, was just being careful. He introduced himself as Shikhar and asked them what the problem was. Daniyal explained to them how they had gotten lost and how their car¡¯s throttle had a problem. Shikhar listened to him intently and when Daniyal was done telling him, he turned around to the landlord who merely just grunted. He looked clearly annoyed for having been interrupted by their appearance as he spat the paan to the side and spoke in loud Punjabi.


    ¡°He says that he doesn¡¯t have any room for you people,¡± replied Shikhar, who clearly looked awkward for passing the bad news to them. ¡°The only room he¡¯s renting out is occupied¡­ by me.¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon, please,¡± insisted Daniyal gesturing to the house. ¡°Look at the size of that house, there must be some room for us. Tell him we¡¯ll pay, I¡¯ve got money.¡±


    Faizan watched as the landlord raised his eyebrows after being told that. That had got his attention. He moved a few steps forward and examined all of them, figuring out the money he would ask from them. Faizan knew he¡¯d ask a bullshit amount given how desperate they looked. He also felt uncomfortable by how his gaze lingered a bit longer at the girls.


    ¡°Ten thousand,¡± the man finally muttered.


    ¡°Ten thousand rupees?!¡± blurted out Daniyal, his eyes widening. ¡°For one day?¡±


    The owner nodded. He had a slight smirk on his face.


    ¡°Five thousand,¡± countered Daniyal.


    The owner shook his head and repeated, ¡°Ten thousand.¡±


    ¡°Six Thousand.¡±


    The landlord shook his head and turned away to the door. He gestured for Shikhar to follow him who seemed hesitant to leave these people in need of help. The landlord was just about to go through the gate when Daniyal finally gave in. ¡°Fine! Ten Thousand.¡±


    The landlord turned around with a smile and took out another pan from a crumpled newspaper he had in his hand. He placed it in his mouth and began chewing on it, as he slowly opened the gate.


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    ¡°Is there a mechanic here in the village by any chance?¡± asked Daniyal walking up to Shikhar.


    ¡°Yes, there is, near the masjid over there,¡± he pointed to a masjid minar, a small pointed pillar that he could barely make out at the other end of the village. ¡°I¡¯ll take you there first thing in the morning. Don¡¯t worry, you guys will be on your way back home soon enough.¡±


    Faizan got into the car (as Daniyal was preoccupied with the transaction) and slowly drove it up the incline, cursing as the car narrowly scratched against one of the edges as he turned the car. Daniyal hadn¡¯t seemed to notice so he just kept quiet. He knew how angry he could get when someone scratched his car. The others slowly walked up in front towards the house, in the doorway of which they could all see the lady, who Faizan guessed was the landlord¡¯s wife, dressed in a traditional shalwar kameez. Behind her, he had spotted a young girl about their age peering at them before her mom sent her back.


    As they entered the house, Shikhar told them how he had rented out the room in a bid to explore the land around the village, which was known as Seywal. His passion was to travel all around the world to research unknown locations, and what better place to start than his own country. He explained to them how the village had gotten its name from the porcupine, known as a sey, which roamed around in the wilderness around the village. Faizan wasn¡¯t paying much attention to what he was saying, he was beginning to realise how hungry and sleepy he was now that the adrenaline from being lost was starting to subside.


    The boys and girls were led to separate bathrooms where they could finally clean up and change into fresh clothes that they had from their trip to Karachi. The bathroom they had been given had clearly not been used in a while and thus, was covered in cobwebs and dirt which made him very uncomfortable. There was also a squat toilet only and he had a hard time emptying his empty bladder. He made sure to clean up the spilt pee properly.


    The landlord¡¯s wife, or Mrs. Malik, was very kind, as opposed to her husband, and made sure that all their needs were tended to. He could somewhat understand her since her speech was clearer and she also added whatever Urdu words she knew so that they could understand her better. Faizan felt she was especially nice with him because she kept urging him to eat as she served them spinach with fresh rotis, that she had gotten to start working immediately with her daughter. When he had been passing by the kitchen to the dingy dining room, he had caught the young girl, Inaya, staring at him before looking away. She seemed annoyed. Faizan wondered why.


    They ate in the poorly-lit, dusty dining room that seemed haunted to Faizan. Outside, they could hear crickets trying their best to battle the deathly silence but somehow making it all the more prominent. They continued eating, either talking in quiet voices to someone next to them, or just giving each other glances before awkwardly eating, as if signalling to each other: How the hell did we get ourselves in this mess?


    He looked around in the room and noticed a wall with pictures he assumed were deceased relatives of the owners of the house. They looked very creepy in the poor lighting; he could swear the faces looked almost distorted and decided to look away. On a mantelpiece he noticed three small miniature statues glinting in the light and curiously, they all seemed to be of porcupines; a bronze, silver and gold one. When they had finished eating, Faizan made his way up to the statues making sure that none of the owners were in the room. They were spotless, compared to the rest of the room, and with the way they had been presented on the mantelpiece made him figure they were important. He took a closer look at them, in awe of how sharp and accurate the spikes on the statues looked. He gently touched the tip of his index finger onto the spikes of the gold one and winced when his skin pierced through like it was butter. He felt a surge of energy flow through him. It lasted for only a second but he knew he had felt something. Maybe it had just been pain...


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± asked Daniyal. Khalid and him were looking at him curiously. ¡°Don¡¯t mess around with their stuff.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± said Faizan, putting his finger against the side of his leg to stop the bleeding. ¡°I was just looking.¡±


    He was returning to the table when Mrs. Malik came back to clear up the plates. She was very friendly with all of them but Faizan noticed that she was especially hospitable with him. He made sure to tell her that the spinach had tasted divine.


    They were informed that the spare rooms in the house did not have any power, and so they could sleep on the balcony. This pissed off Daniyal but he decided to keep shut because at least they had been given hospitality. He was secretly glad that they were sleeping on the balcony, after seeing how dusty the rooms had been.


    There was a nice breeze in the balcony as they set up to sleep on the traditional wooden cots, or charpais, that were frequent in villages. Faizan found his charpai surprisingly comfy, and was glad there were mosquito nets attached to it, although he suspected it had something to do with how exhausted he was.


    The girls'' charpais were set up on the other end of the balcony and Faizan watched them talking sitting next to each other with their legs crossed. He wondered if they were talking about him. The guys began discussing their plans for the next day, with Daniyal telling them he was confident they¡¯d be on the road by the afternoon, and that he got directions from Shikhar, who had told him that the highway was about three hours away. With that, they all settled into their charpais.


    Faizan looked up at the night sky through the mosquito net and was in awe of it. It looked so vibrant and clear in the dark village that barely had any light pollution. The stars gleamed like small gems and he noticed how some of the stars had different colours. He wondered who, or what, lived among those stars and could not help imagine Lovecraft¡¯s creatures swimming along with it. Creatures of immense power and convoluted forms that lived among the stars were an exciting and frightening prospect and he imagined various forms of them. Just as he was about to doze off, the breeze suddenly died and he heard the clink of something falling next to him. He felt a little awake but still too tired to bother opening his eyes and figured it was just some of those big stick insects that would jump around everywhere. He had seen lots of them in Islamabad.


    In his dreams, he saw the stars all around him as he floated in the center of the universe. He felt at peace until a humongous beast came into his vision, with razor sharp giant quills on its back, so big that he could not see its whole form. He thought the beast had swallowed the stars until he looked onto its back and saw whole planets and stars pierced through its quills. The wailing of billions of souls, in pain and ecstasy, could be heard from all of them and Faizan tried his best to drown out the sound with his hands on his ears, but there was no use. He could hear them deep in his mind, as if they had become a part of him.


    He thought he heard his friends¡¯ voices among the screams too. He could hear Daniel announcing he was going to the mechanic among the early morning bird chirping. He could hear Aleena and Hina trying to wake him up, telling him something was terribly wrong. He could hear Khalid yelling at the top of his lungs. He could hear death and destruction. But it was hard for him to focus on them, among the billions of other voices. They were all so loud.


    They felt so real.


    They are real. He heard a voice say.


    What?


    Soon you will be a part of them too.


    The voices increased in magnitude and he screamed along with them, dropping to his knees and squeezing his hands against his ears. He squeezed so hard that he felt his cranium would pop, and yet the voices did not stop.


    He saw one of the porcupine spikes heading right for him...

 Chapter 3

    He awoke with a jerk and sat up. He felt a soft prick on the top of his head as he did so and winced. He felt the same energetic pain he had before and looked up to see a porcupine quill embedded into the mosquito net, the sharp end of which was aimed right at him.


    How the hell did that get there?


    This question became meaningless however, when he looked around him.


    He had expected to be waking up in the morning but he was shocked to find that the sun was sinking into the horizon and the sky was a sickly blood red. He hurriedly undid the mosquito net, almost tangling himself up in it. There was something off about the smell in the air but he was too preoccupied with the fact he had overslept. He looked towards the charpais. They were all empty. Of course, they were empty, it was so late.


    Why the hell hadn¡¯t they woken him up?


    He figured they were in the house and wanted to give them a piece of his mind as he hurriedly wore his shoes and got up from the charpai. His heart sank when he noticed that Hina¡¯s mosquito net had been torn. It looked like a struggle had taken place. That¡¯s when he noticed the sound of men shouting.


    What the hell was going on here?


    Were his friends okay?


    What the hell was that smell?


    He finally focused on the sick putrid smell that invaded his nostrils as he walked towards the balcony¡¯s edge and he noticed that part of it was the smell of burning. He had heard that villages did smell weird, due to the smell of cow and manure mostly, but this was very different. Another part of it reminded him of the slaughter of goats and cows on Eid al Adha. Was that blood he smelled in the air?


    When he reached the balcony¡¯s edge, he felt his feet collide against something thin on the floor and looked down. He noticed they were porcupine quills as well. He felt strangely drawn towards them somehow but forgot about them when he looked down at the village.


    He was shocked by the mayhem that was going on. There was fire all over the village, bright and blazing, like a scene from an apocalypse. He saw groups of men wearing bloodied shalwar kameezes, chasing other men all the while shouting religious incantations at them. He was frozen in shock. No way was this happening.


    He was now fearing for the safety of his friends, and especially Hina. He was hoping they were safe inside the house from the mess that was going on outside. Why hadn¡¯t they woken him up though? Very strange. He approached their charpais looking for clues of their disappearance and all he could figure out was that they had gotten up in a hurry. He looked down the other side of the balcony and realised that the car in the driveaway was missing. His heart sank deep into the pits of his stomach. Had they left without him? Was he to fend for himself in this hellhole?


    He checked his phone for a signal so he could contact them or anybody outside for help but as had been the case since they had gotten lost, it was dead.That¡¯s when he realised that Daniyal had said he would take the car to get serviced at the mechanic. He shook his head to clear his mind of the thought that his friends had left them. There was no way they would leave, no way Hina would leave him. Right?


    Right?


    However, he was struggling to remember where the mechanic was. He remembered Shikhar saying something about it to Daniyal but he hadn¡¯t been listening to him properly. He closed his eyes and tried hard to remember. Think, Think.


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    He looked up towards the village and saw the minar of the masjid in the distance. The minar looked so sharp, a pointed quill with an alternating black and white along its body. Wait what? He looked again and saw that it was a simple minar of a masjid again, except it looked much more prominent than before. It looked bigger than before. What was going on with him? He groaned. He really shouldn¡¯t have overslept like that. It was making him see things.


    He entered the house and started to shout out their names, hurriedly looking around for anyone. No one replied to him. He scanned the entire house, all the while screaming their names. Hina! Aleena! Khalid! Hina! After he was done searching most of the house, he realised that no one was in the house. Not even the landlord and his family, not even Shikhar. Had they really left without him?


    There was one room left which he believed to be Shikhar''s, which was in the more deserted sections of the house. Even though he was in a panicked hurry, he still found himself approaching his room carefully. Shikhar commanded an air of respect he couldn¡¯t explain and regardless of his kindness, the man was daunting. He noticed that the light in the room was still on. Strange. Why hadn¡¯t he reacted to the commotion that Faizan had been making? He thought as he approached the door. He froze when he noticed that the door handle was broken and there were holes on different sections of the door. His heart sank. Bullet holes. There were bits of old wood and sawdust lying on the floor, remnants of whatever chaos had gone on down here. Someone had broken in with force and succeeded.


    This is not good.


    He was met with the smell of musky perfume and burning incense, that completely removed the putrid smell that had wafted throughout the rest of the house. There was no one in the room, like in the rest of the house, and yet the entirety of it caught his interest.


    The walls were covered in all sorts of scrawlings, varying between Urdu and English, and strange symbols he didn¡¯t recognise, all written with dark different coloured markers. Everything in the room was all over the place, including clothes and notes scattered all over the floor, the desk and the small mattress placed on a charpai in the corner. The window in the room was wide open and the grill (that was attached in front of all the windows to safeguard from thieves) was creaking as it barely hung outside, clinging onto a rusted screw from one corner. There was no sign of Shikhar and Faizan could tell that he had left in a hurry. He put two and two together and figured that someone had tried to force open the door to get to Shikhar, who had probably jumped out the window to flee from the attacker. There was only one person he could think of who could have tried to do that. He remembered the landlord¡¯s 12-gauge shotgun¡­


    But why would he do that?


    And what was up with the strange writing?


    He moved into the room to get a closer look and noticed how in some of the notes on the papers, the writing had turned from being neat and tidy to grotesque and erratic. He picked up a few of them trying to make sense of what he was reading.


    I managed to get a hold of one of those rotten witches in Karachi, those bitches are very crafty and nimble, managing to slip into the towering forests of buildings and crowds, disappearing into the dirt and dust that has almost seeped into the skins. Almost three of them had managed to evade me before I got a hold of her, so I made sure this one would talk and give away her sisters. It was not easy to make her talk, either because of her stubborn loyalty or how tough dealing with the godawful city had made her, but I did not mind. I had plenty of anger and frustration pent up in me and I was happy to let it all out on her as I carved her up slowly and gently, like a sculpture. She finally did talk when she had been brought to the point of insanity, but she did not give me the information I sought. Instead, she let slip something that was more valuable to me than the deaths of all the witch covens in the world, that made my desire for vengeance from the Karachi witches extinguish. She made an invocation for help to the Sey Witches.


    The Sey Witches. The legendary witches who are believed to have originated from Lillith herself and befriended the mythological porcupine god, stabber of worlds, as a form of rebellion against God, Adam and Satan in order to stop their plans of religiously forcing a patriarchy on Earth. There is not much known of their history, which no doubt had been erased or forced out of the tongues of women, so that their stories of rebellion might not spread, but the earliest we can date them to is the now Indo-Pak region. It is believed that they were completely eradicated by the British East India Trading Company as they came in the way of their many trading routes. We believed they had become extinct too and my grandfather was one of the many witch hunters tasked with hunting down the last of them. He hated them with a passion and considered them the most blasphemous of all the creatures on earth, even more than the Jews.  Unfortunately for him, those bitches had set one of the male jinns that they kept chained to themselves, and he was haunted by him for the rest of his life. The doctors called it PTSD but I know the truth after I read his notes, the blood soaked diary that I held in my hands moments after he had blown his brains out to set the jinn free. Since then, I have hated the Sey witches and have been thankful everyday to God that he had wiped them off the earth. And now, here was this blabbering hunk of meat, invoking their name right in front of me. They were alive! And while the utterance of their name filled me with so much rage, that I burned her alive there and then, it later brought immense satisfaction to me. I could be the one to finally end them once and for all and finish my grandfather¡¯s legacy. I fell down to my knees there and then in prostration to God for blessing me with this opportunity. It was time for me to fulfill my destiny.


    Faizan stared at the notes in awed disbelief, having to reread parts of it just to make sure he wasn¡¯t imagining the nonsense he was looking at. Sey Witches? Did they come from the village? Shikhar was a witch hunter? What the hell was a porcupine god? What nonsense. What was up with Shikhar? It sounded like he was crazy, or maybe just a very creative writer.


    He shuffled through the rest of the notes, finding one that were dated more recently.

 Chapter 4

    I have arrived at the village of Seywal, a place that I have never heard of before and which seems so obviously made that it cannot be a coincidence that I have arrived upon it. Either the witches have used their wicked magic to guide me here or God has led me on the right path so that I may end their wickedness and ensure that His word will never be tainted by the blasphemers. I feel like I am in the right place judging by the aura I sense in the air, I can feel the magic trembling in my bones. A dark, powerful and ancient magic is in the air here. I have taken up lodgings at the house of a landlord here, a greedy man who only cares about money and is blind to the blasphemy that takes place around him.


    *


    I have met with the mullah at the mosque, and although he was supportive, I felt very disappointed meeting him. He is, like most religious men I have met, lacking true faith and only cares about himself. Nonetheless, he has agreed to help me with locating the Sey witches and has been promised a great deal of wealth by me and our creed, for the Lord does reward those who serve him through us.


    *


    There is a strange aura in the house, I can feel it. A strong source of magic but I cannot pinpoint it exactly. I have my suspicions, I believe someone in this house is aiding the witches. It is awfully convenient how the landlord¡¯s wife makes such good food, a quality that I have noticed witches are naturally good at¡­ No worries, however, I am sure that the Lord shall protect me for I have his recitations memorised by heart, no magic will be able to penetrate me, no matter how strong¡­ THEY ARE HERE I SENSE THE MAGIC DEEP INSIDE ME THEY HAVE DISCOVERED ME I CAN FEEL THE DARK MONSTER INSIDE OH LORD PROTECT ME PROTECT ME FROM THE DARKNESS


    Faizan turned to look at the grotesque scrawls that were like a continuation of the notes. The more he read them, the more it filled his heart with dread.


    I HAVE FOUND THEM! THEY¡¯RE HERE! THEY¡¯RE ALIVE.


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    I WILL BURN THEM TO THE STAKE! THE FUCKING WHORES!


    BLASPHEMERS!


    GOD WILL PROTECT ME!


    GOD¡¯S SWORD IS SHARPER THAN THE QUILL.


    There were also many religious incantations written on the walls which he deduced from the notes to be duas (prayers) to protect him from the witches¡¯ jinns. Faizan felt his head spinning and now his worry for his friends had skyrocketed. Has Shikhar gone crazy? Had he hurt his friends and the family? Maybe that''s why there were gunshots in the door, as a means of self-defence by the owner. He cursed out loud. What kind of a madhouse had they arrived in? He could hear screaming outside and was wondering what the hell was up with the village.


    That¡¯s when his eyes fell on a neat looking dark-brown leather case buried among all the papers and notes. He lifted it up, it was light, and he placed it on the desk after making room for it by sweeping some notes off the desk.The case was empty but he could see marks embedded inside, of knives that had been held by the elastic supports inside. He could tell by the marks that the knives were menacingly long and lethal, the kind he imagined was used by hunters, torturers or assassins. If the notes were to be believed, Shikhar could qualify as all of them. This meant Shikhar was armed to the teeth with deadly weapons.


    And he had gone crazy.


    Faizan had to find his friends before he got to them.


    He ran out the door almost, almost slipping over the sawdust and what he realised were small pellets that had fallen out of the wood from the shotgun. He checked his phone again for a signal but there was still none as he made his way to the front door.


    With every step he took, his legs started to get heavier, like they were slowly filling up with lead. The shouting and screaming outside had grown louder and he was not ready to face them. He was just a normal city boy who had no experience dealing with villages, and from the stories he had heard of the horrors that would go on in some of them, he was not ready to deal with these savages. But his friends were still out there, and so was Hina. Hina. He needed to get out there and look for them, for her. He stood at the front door, his fists clenched, looking down with his eyes closed, struggling to summon up all of the inner courage he could muster.


    She was out there somewhere and needed his help.


    Get a hold of yourself!


    Hina.


    You need to grow some balls.


    Save her. Save them.


    Save her.


    He opened the door as quickly and carefully as he could, making sure that it didn¡¯t creak too much, and peered out from the corner into the driveway. Although he still wasn¡¯t technically out of the house, having to still get past the outer gate, he was still wary about Shikhar. He had seen plenty of horror movies to know they struck when you least expected it.

 Chapter 5

    He could hear the shouting and screaming much clearer now, and along with the smell of slaughter and blood, he could now smell burning in the air. He looked around and saw the distant dancing glowing of fire at various points in the distance. It was pure chaos outside. What a bunch of savages.


    He opened the built-in smaller door of the gate carefully but quickly closed it and slid the rusted latch in when he heard a group of people approaching. He had caught a glimpse of them, wearing various forms of shalwar kameezes and carrying blazing torches like in medieval times as they shouted and screamed. When they walked past the gate, he tried to discern what they were saying in Punjabi, but besides the prayers and incantations they proclaimed out loud, it was too garbled for him to understand. Their tone was almost animal-like, and it looked like they were searching for someone. Faizan dreaded to think who they were looking for.


    When the coast was clear, he stepped outside into the streets and began moving towards the mosque, the only real landmark he had in mind. He was hoping that they had somehow made their way there and were waiting for him so that they could escape this godforsaken place. He prayed that Daniyal had somehow managed to get the car working.


    The streets were dark as the red in the sky continued to darken, as if the blood on the horizon was slowly congealing. Initially, he thought that the water in the open gutters on either side of the street were just reflecting the light in the sky giving the impression of blood, but then he realised it was actually blood. The flowing water was mixed with blood and filth and it remained consistently so as far as he walked. It looked like the gutters were the veins of the street, as if it had been dead all this while and had been resurrected by the blood of whatever had been sacrificed to it. He dreaded to think what imaginable horror caused it. Even the slaughter on Eid didn¡¯t bring out that much blood, he thought as he walked carefully in the streets, thankful he had his sneakers on that would make sure he could move carefully and quietly.


    The closer he got to the looming minar on the other side of the village, the closer he felt he was approaching the heart of chaos. He could hear shouting, mostly of men, and screaming, mostly of women, all over the village and it made his legs weak with fear. Blood-curdling screams and bloodthirsty shouting mixed in with the blazing fire made him feel like he was approaching hell itself. The groups of wandering villagemen were becoming more frequent and Faizan had to sink into the shadows or diverge into connecting streets, praying that they did not find him.


    The blood in the running gutters was starting to become an even deeper red as he made his way ahead. He started to fear for the worst when bits and pieces of meat started to flow down as well; cartilage, torn flesh and chunks of collected, congealed blood floating in the murky water. He wondered if that was his friends in the water that flowed the other way, as if warning him to go the other way lest he suffer the same fate as them.


    His luck of not being found out did not last, however, when he ran into another group of villagers in a street where there was no escape on either side. Instinctively, he sank against one of the outer gates of a nearby house, and it opened inwards which was something he did not expect. He tripped over the small beam at the bottom of the gate and fell inwards, the metal door moving with the same momentum and crashing hard against the mud brick wall. The villagemen exclaimed out loud as they heard the commotion, even over the general shouting, screaming and fire blazing that could be heard as loud as ever.


    ¡°Oye, someone¡¯s over there,¡± one of them shouted and they ran to the source of the sound. Faizan was, initially, frozen in fear but quickly got up and ran, scanning his surroundings. He was in a house with a huge open courtyard where he could see the murky shadows of farm animals; cows, goats and chickens. Adjacent to these were the small buildings where the rooms were. He turned to look at the one on the left where a pale yellow light filled a small room, on the wall of which he could see the elongated shadow of a man hunched over. There was a woman screaming inside that slowly turned into sickly gurgles as the shadow made a sudden movement. He hadn¡¯t noticed the puddle of blood until he stepped into it. He looked down and caught a glimpse of the dark liquid forming a small river until it collected into an indented region of the worn out stone floor. He didn¡¯t have any time to wonder what the reason was but the extra fear injected more adrenaline into him and he ran faster. He was sure now that the blood in the gutters belonged to actual people, like the woman who had just been silenced.


    He heard the gate slam open behind him again as the group of villagemen turned around into the house, slowly down as the door inside the gate formed a chokepoint.


    ¡°Oye, there¡¯s a sinner running in your house, get him! He¡¯s from the city, he¡¯s wearing jeans, he¡¯s a huge sinner!¡±


    He caught a glimpse of a man coming out of the room, who Faizan thought wore a red shalwar kameez until he saw the blood drenched all over his hair and face. He was wiping his hands with a bloodied cloth.


    He was laughing. ¡°I¡¯ve killed a lot of sinners today. Killed my wife and daughters, the sins she birthed, who should¡¯ve been sons.¡±


    Faizan had his eyes set on the small, uneven staircase that led to the roof of the other building that bordered the courtyard. Back on the terrace, he had noticed how the roofs in the villages were all connected to each other, like favelas, and all he had been able to think was how they would be a parkourer¡¯s dream. That was what his instincts and fears led him to as he ran up the stairs, taking two at a time while the villagemen behind said some of the nastiest slurs he had ever heard.


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    He stopped at the top of the roof, assessing his surroundings to make sure there would be a safe path to take. The building he stood on was much closer to the chaos unfolding, and yet high enough for him to see clearly what was going on. He saw the movement of people now which he hadn¡¯t been able to before and froze. There were scores and scores of villagemen, gathered in groups in various courtyards and open spaces on the streets, slaughtering other men and women while chasing the others. They were proclaiming God''s name as they slaughtered them from the neck, ignoring their various screams, cries and pleas. His stomach turned at the sight of blood gushing out of so many gashed throats and heads rolling around, some of them piled up like small mountains of heads among which he saw buzzards and strays dogs, chomping on cheeks, eyeballs and whatever meat they could get their hands on. After the slaughter was done, their headless corpses were being hung onto hooks or placed on reed mats so that they could be further cut and meat prepared for cooking. He noticed the sickly smell of cooked human meat in the air and let out a mouthful of bile before getting control of his body. He didn¡¯t have time to hurl, he had to get moving.


    Before he jumped down, he heard the loud whistle of a speaker being turned on that echoed all throughout the village, followed by a loud thumping of a mic being adjusted. The whistle died down as Faizan landed onto an adjacent lower roof of another house. He winced as the muscles at his heels stung; he had landed with too much force on his feet but had luckily suffered no injury. He continued running forward as someone coughed into the mic, a man¡¯s voice. He noticed that the source of the sound were the speakers attached to the giant minar of the masjid, looming higher than ever into the night sky. Had it increased even more in length or was he just imagining it? Faizan jumped from roof to lower roof, climbed up higher roofs or simply jumped across as he ran right among the chaos that was louder than ever. The screaming, yelling and the putrid smells followed him wherever he desperately ran. Tears ran down his eyes at the thought of being caught by the pursuers. Some of the ones down on the ground joined up with them. Being from the city had painted a target on his back. The same had probably happened to his friends as he looked at the massacre going below but he pushed the thought back. He had to escape before he could think about looking for them. He hoped that they were safe. The voice from the masjid spoke.


    ¡°Greetings, my fellow Muslim brothers¡­ and sisters. God is so proud of the work you have done today to remove the sinners from this village, so proud, that he has given you a third Eid. Rejoice, my fellow brothers! You are the very best of his servants,¡± said the imam of the masjid who Faizan could tell was an elderly man based on his voice


    The villagemen replied with a huge uproar as they praised God, so loud that he felt the whole village shake. The villagemen had their whole attention turned to the mosque now and the slaughter had briefly been stopped. His pursuers had also been slowed down because of the distraction but had not relented the chase.


    ¡°God has blessed you with this third Eid so that you may sacrifice the believers and cleanse his Earth of all the filth. By ingesting them, they will become a part of you and their souls will be purified by the noor inside your bodies. Eat them, eat all of them and save some for me,¡± he said with a chuckle.


    The villagers laughed, their voices combining and sounding like a ferocious beast laughing maniacally from the pits of hell deep below them. Laughter sounded like a foreigh concept, like a memory, in the hellscape he was currently running through. It was sickening how someone could be able to muster even a smile in the situation they were in.


    ¡°Sharpen your blades, brothers and press the knives against the necks of the sinners right now. Do it right now, leave everything else.¡± said the imam and the screaming that had quietened down during the sermon had started up again as Faizan heard the clatter of blades as they were picked up or sharpened against stones. The air in the whole village held its breath as they all readied their blades against the throats of their victims, waiting for the imam¡¯s cue.


    The imam took a deep breath and then loudly proclaimed his blessings in the form of a religious incantation. The whole village repeated after him in unison and slid their knives across the throats together, as blood spurted out of throats like fountains, letting out another river of blood into the gutters. Faizan would¡¯ve been driven to the verge of insanity as he heard the hundreds of screaming voices that changed into sickly gurgling sounds dotted all around him as far as he could hear, if not for the adrenaline coursing through him.


    He was taken aback too as he looked towards the masjid and he could¡¯ve sworn it had grown even longer, almost the size of a small building. He felt another surge of energy as he looked at it and felt overwhelmed with the giddiness that filled up his body. It was the same energy he had felt when the statue had pierced his skin, but this one was much stronger.


    His legs felt like jelly and eventually he ended up tripping on a small pile of bricks lying on a rooftop. He fell headfirst over the edge of it, bracing for impact with his shoulder and landing quite fortunately in a huge pile of stinky hay. His pursuers had been too focused on the sermon and were now perplexed by his disappearance. Faizan dug deeper into the hay, grateful that the musty smell covered up the horrifying smells he¡¯d had to endure all throughout the pursuit.


    ¡°This Eid is a blessing for you, my brothers!¡± continued the imam after the uproar had died down. ¡°Enjoy it! And take special care with eradicating the witches and the people from the city, they are dangerous with their magic and their forbidden knowledge. But let it be known, God will give you a special place in heaven, among me and the prophets themselves, if you brave the risk to purify them. May God be with you all as you enjoy this third Eid. Farewell!¡±


    ¡°Where is that motherfucker?¡± he heard one of them proclaim as they ran after him with more determination. ¡°How did he just disappear like that? He¡¯s been running like crazy for so long?¡±


    Through a gap among the hay covering his face, he could make out a few of them jumping over the edge of the roof to look around while a few of them stayed behind. They were perplexed.


    ¡°This must be the work of witchcraft,¡± the other replied. ¡°If he has escaped to the ground below then he is out of our hands. Phelwan will take care of him. We let go of a special place in heaven my brother. But God blesses who he wishes to and who is a better servant of the imam than Pehlwan himself.¡±


    With that, he heard his pursuers walk away but he did not dare make a single movement until he was sure that the coast was clear. He could hear the soft sounds of farm animals nearby but he wasn¡¯t bothered about them in the least. The muffled sounds of the chaos continued and the adrenaline in his body started to distill into pure fear. He had begun to process everything that had happened and it was too much for his brain to handle. Slaughter, witches, death, human flesh, third eid, the god awful smell. What was he supposed to do? Move. He had to move. He willed his body to do so but it wouldn¡¯t budge, it was frozen in fear. Move. He had to save his friends. His legs still refused to budge. Then he heard a whisper, he wasn¡¯t sure if it was the actual voice or merely a memory but he heard her calling his name. Faizan, she called. Come to me, in a delicious sensuous whisper that made the hair on his body stand up.


    Hina.

 Chapter 6

    He willed himself to move. The hay rustled as he tussled with it to get up. He left the safety of the hay womb, a city boy in the village now transformed into a traumatised man who had barely escaped death and was still not out of the thick of it. He looked around and saw that he was in a small courtyard that was being used as a small farmyard. There were a few goats and cows, who had been awakened by his fall, but they turned away once they realised he meant no harm to them. Their eyes glinted in the moonlight making it look as if they were monsters hiding in the dark. But they knew, and Faizan knew, that the real monsters were out there killing their own kind. They¡¯re probably glad they¡¯re not the ones being slaughtered out there. Karma, I guess.


    The house the courtyard belonged to looked abandoned and there were no lights in any of the houses nearby. It seemed to him as if the house he had fallen into was the border between chaos and complete and utter darkness. The house facing away from the slaughter looked completely dark and abandoned. He wasn¡¯t sure why that was the case but either way, he did not want to walk on the streets. He noticed that some of the neighbouring houses were interconnected through small, crudely built dusty passageways that were full of cobwebs and ceilings that were too short. He had to hunch over a little bit as he walked through them, all the while wary of no one discovering him. Some of the neighbouring houses were not connected through these corridors so he had to either climb up small fences or walk up to rooftops and quickly jump down to the ground before he was spotted. He was intent on avoiding the rooftops as much as he could.


    The whole time he stared up at the mosque¡¯s minaar, using it as a marker. He was quite sure that he had closed quite a bit of distance to the mosque now but not sure how much because of the ever growing pillar in the sky, it¡¯s sharp end piercing the night sky. What if the car had not been taken to the mechanic there and Daniel had been abducted before he could have done so? What if it was burning to a hunk of metal among the burning fires he had seen all around the village? Had he been cursed somehow? If only he could find one of his friends, maybe he could get some information about their whereabouts and how things had gone to shit so fast. If any of them was alive, that is.


    The smell of the burning fires and meat was starting to die down and yet it would not go away. Faizan was sure that the smell had tattooed itself to his mind and would never go away the rest of his life. The very thought of cooked meat made him gag now and suddenly veganism did not sound like a bad idea. Would becoming a vegan make him a blasphemer? After all, it was ordered by God himself to eat the meat slaughtered during Eid. He did not know why but the thought t made him laugh and he was glad for it, because the laughter and the tears that ran down his eyes were a nice release of all that pent up stress inside him. What the hell had he gotten himself into? Was this God¡¯s version of hell and he had somehow died in his sleep? Was this what his life was going to be from now on?


    Faizan was in an utter state of shock. All the events he had gone through had hit him like a truck-


    Something slammed hard into him, like a truck, something huge. He had seen the rush of movement at the last second of something huge, and heard the sounds of mournful moaning, but was given no time to react as he soared into the sky. The slight gforce he was experiencing had his brain doing somersaults but he managed to instinctively raise his shoulder as he braced for impact against a small wooden utility shed. He hit the shed hard but luckily the force of the impact was reduced by the shed completely falling apart and absorbing the blow. Planks of the rotting wood fell all over him, and he felt splinters, rusted nails and chunks of wood poking into him as he hurriedly got to his feet. He still hadn¡¯t processed what happened when he saw the giant figure heading for him again, charging at him.


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    He quickly got to his feet and scrambled to get out of the way of the charging figure. He almost slipped backwards on the sawdust that had spread all over the wooden remains of the shed, and barely managed to escape out of the way. The figure had been moving with a lot more momentum than before, and Faizan felt the rush of wind reverberating in his body as it went past him. He knew he would¡¯ve lost his life there and then, if he had been struck.


    The figure reduced the wooden remains to a complete cloud of dust as he ran for his life, to put as much distance as he could between him and the thing. To his surprise, he turned around to see the small building next to the shed fall apart completely, like a wrecking ball had collided into it. The figure had used the house as a way to stop its momentum and now he saw its dark silhouette slowly darkened in the cloud of dust as it walked towards him. The moonlight and fires rising above the small village houses served as enough light for Faizan to see the giant figure that walked out.


    The figure was that of a giant man, wearing a bloodied shalwar while his upper body was completely naked. The brown skin of his body was gleaming, as if he had spread something greasy on it. His thick muscly arms were raised on his sides, like how Jesus was crucified on the cross, and Faizan noticed to his horror a thick metal beam jammed through the arms and his back, holding them in place. On either side of the beams, there were two figures hanging lifelessly, with hooks attached to chains lodged into their spines, their moans had now turned to screams after the hook in their backs had reignited the pain from all that movement. Faizan could not make out their faces but could tell they were men. He was horrified by the way their bloody, damaged bodies contorted in pain and knew he had to be careful if he didn¡¯t want to take one of their places.


    The man had a strong, stout face with a jaw so strong it looked like it could break stone. There was a thick metal helmet on his head that was shaped like the designed skull caps that Muslims wore in Pakistan. It was painted green with religious calligraphy painted on it in gold, that had begun to slowly fade and yet its fiery glinting could still be made out. Behind the helmet, he saw a small figure holding on to his back, like a deformed child. It was a man suffering from dwarfism and a mangled body; hunched over back, growths all over the body and face and limbs that were of various sizes that made him look like a sickly creature. The small creature¡¯s face had lit up in anticipation and it was smiling at him, whispering into the larger man¡¯s ear, while Phelwan simply addressed him as Bhai (Brother). His whispers weren¡¯t being heard because of the hanging mens¡¯ screams and so the creature slapped at them and shushed them to be quiet. They paid no attention to him, lost in their reverie of pain.


    Barring the grotesque modifications made to the large man¡¯s body body, he looked like the pehlwan wrestlers that he had seen on the internet, except they looked like midgets compared to the man towering over him, and he realised this was the man named Pehlwan that the villagemen had been talking about. Pehlwan smiled at him, a terrifying smirk that showed off the immaculate set of teeth that looked more like huge ivory rocks set into his mouth. He walked towards him, his pace slow and steadily rising as the creature on his back encouraged him with what sounded like religious chants, For God, until he was jogging towards him, the force of his stride sending vibrations all the way to where Faizan stood. He was charging at him again.


    Faizan ran for his life, harder than he had ever run.


    He ran aimlessly at first, towards the outer gate of the house he was in and barely managed to exit it as Pehlwan came charging in. As he jumped out of the way on the streets, he heard the sickening crunch of the giant metal gate as it bent over and then flew off its hinges, slamming against the other side of the street and denting the wall.


    Faizan had slipped over the small beam at the bottom of the gate and had ended up face first into the gutters. The smell of filth and blood violated his nostrils as he struggled to get up. He screamed as he saw the wife open frightened eyes of a child¡¯s head looking deep into his eyes, the horror she had experienced immortalised on her face. Faizan would have hurled right there and then but he had to continue running so that he could put enough distance between him and Phelwan to jump out of the way. The small creature on Pehlwan¡¯s back laughed, amused by Faizan¡¯s horrific reactions.


    Faizan ran down the narrow streets, panting like mad, his heart thumping against his chest doing its best to keep pumping blood throughout his body. He heard the vibrations from the ground increasing as Pehlwan took up another run up, roaring as he shifted into a run. Faizan realised he had messed up by running into the streets because now the only way he could run was straight and there was not much room to dodge. He tried to push open gates of the houses he came across but they would not budge and now he was starting to panic again. Death was right at his heels.


    And it was catching up.

 Chapter 7

    At the last moment, he managed to find an unlocked gate and dived across, managing to just avoid being hit by the charging Pehlwan but collided with one of the dangling prisoners who let out a shriek of pain. The collision unbalanced Faizan and he landed awkwardly on his knees, the hard ground scraping the cloth of his jeans and the skin underneath raw off of them. His body was starting to cramp but the fear and adrenaline coaxed him back up and he ran ahead.


    There was a small barn in front of him, with all sorts of farm animals and he made his way towards them, hoping that Pehlwan would lose track of him if he got there before he saw him. He carefully threaded through a few goats and cows who were lazily hanging about just outside the structure, glad that they hadn¡¯t kicked out at him. To his surprise, however, Pehlwan had recovered from his charge quickly as he heard the sound of a wall completely blowing apart and chunks of it hitting his back. Right before he entered the barn, he jumped out of the way as Pehlwan charged through.


    Faizan heard a series of sticky wet thunks around him and he knew what it was before he looked up. The whole courtyard was covered in blood, guts and various body parts of all the farm animals, as if they all exploded from the inside. Faizan felt wetness around his clothes too and for a second, was afraid that Pehlwan had hurt him too but like the whole courtyard, he was merely a canvas for the deaths of the animals. He felt a guilt within him, after all their death had been as a result of him going towards them, but there was no time to ponder. He had to keep running.


    Pehlwan let out a huge roar that sent chills down Faizan¡¯s spine. He sounded enraged, probably out of frustration, but Faizan looked back to see anyway. The behemoth of a man was covered in blood now, head to toe, and his huge muscular chest was heaving. Faizan noticed his stance was a bit lopsided and wondered if he was injured but realised that one of the dangling prisoners was missing from the hooks, probably dislodged in the last charge that Pehlwan had made. The wrestler looked around frantically for the body but could not find it while the small creature on his back tried to calm him down. Pehlwan did not succeed and in his frustration, smashed his burly arms against the wreckage, sending bits of rubble and meat everywhere. The small creature then said something to him that caught his attention saying something in Punjabi while pointing to the hook and then to Faizan, who understood. He saw Pehlwan look up to the stars, asking for forgiveness in a low voice before turning to look at Faizan, the blood on his face made his rage look all the more haunting. Faizan did not stick for him to make his run up this time, he ran.


    Faizan¡¯s lungs were burning as they clawed for air and the hamstrings in his legs were starting to cramp up. He was not used to running like this and his body was starting to protest, but the prospect of death, or worse, the vacant spot left for him on the hooks, kept him going. He quickly ran through a small connecting corridor into another courtyard but curiously, this time he saw a small light in the adjacent house. Remembering what had happened to the farm animals, whose blood was still thick and warm on him, he ran towards the seemingly abandoned building next to it as Pehlwan charged at him. Faizan didn''t expect him to charge as fast and Pehlwan predicted his dodge, catching him cleanly with his knee, kicking into Faizan like he was a football. Luckily, he had not been able to gather enough momentum and so the hit did not do anywhere near the damage that had been done to his previous victims. Faizan soared through the air again, this time better prepared to brace himself for impact as his body drove through the house¡¯s window, glass shards piercing him as it disintegrated under his momentum. He landed on something soft, a sofa it felt like, and saw the ceiling and the walls around him break apart as Pehlwan charged through.


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    Faizan thought he was dead, there and then, as the ceiling rushed towards him, as if the house was swallowing him up but the falling walls flanked the ceiling, holding it in its place, and the force of it pushed him off the sofa. The ceiling and the walls ended up making a small haven of debris all around him as the destruction around him came to a rest. There was a temporary silence and Faizan could hear his shaky breathing, panting for air and oxygen in the cramped space he was in. Faizan did not delude himself to feeling safe because it could all come apart any second, especially if Pehlwan charged again. He was hoping that his pursuer would think Faizan had escaped or that he had died in the wreckage.


    His hopes did not last long as the debris trembled again and he heard the muffled sounds of Pehlwan¡¯s rage as he picked apart at the fallen debris and threw it everywhere erratically. Faizan had nowhere to run, he was trapped, and soon enough he saw the ceiling of his debris haven being lifted and was met by the grinning, bloodied face of Pehlwan staring down at him. Behind him, the minar towered in the clear night sky. Faizan tried to wriggle as Pehlwan bent his body awkwardly to the side to grab him, as he couldn¡¯t move his arms around, and managed to find some success momentarily until the wrestler grasped him by the neck. Faizan could feel how strong his hands were as he was lifted up, to stare straight into the small creature¡¯s face, as it scampered up his outstretched arm to examine Faizan.


    The creature looked even more disgusting up close with all sorts of sores and growths on its face, and crooked darkened teeth that he wetted with his tongue as he examined him. Faizan tried to fight against Pehlwan¡¯s grip and swung his legs around, kicking at his torso, but he was unfazed. The small creature felt around Faizan¡¯s back and he felt the skin there retreat at his touch, his face deep in thought as he searched for the optimum place to shove the hook in. Faizan tried to smack at the creature with flailing punches who effectively parried them, surprisingly strong.


    There were some rusted tools hanging from the creature¡¯s waist, covered in dried blood and filth, that he fingered at trying to figure out which one it would use on Faizan. Pehlwan was laughing in a loud booming voice, straining his neck as much as he could to the side to look at the fear in Faizan¡¯s eyes, at times choking him and watching his face go purple before letting him breathe again. Faizan was like a toy in his hand, completely at his mercy. The creature finally decided which tool he would use, a pale red blade that glinted sharp in the moonlight. For a second he thought it looked like a porcupine quill. He stopped struggling and let his limbs hang, awaiting whatever pain was destined for him.

 Chapter 8

    Bang!


    Faizan felt the wet splatter of something sloppy hit his face. He looked towards the sound of the bang, towards the right, expecting to see Pehlwan''s giant smiling face but instead saw a smoking heap of meat and shotgun pellets staring at him. Half of his head had been completely blown off while the other had been disfigured beyond recognition, and the only thing he could make out were the eyeballs that were oozing out a jelly-like substance.


    Pehlwan¡¯s grip around Faizan had instinctively hardened and he struggled to breathe as the towering body toppled over, shaking the ground as it landed. The fall had loosened the grip and Faizan had to use both his hands to get free, sucking in the precious air as he lay on the ground. He could hear the little creature shrieking in fear and looked up to see that his left arm had been completely reduced to shreds and it was clutching at the stringy red muscles and veins.


    Faizan looked towards the source of the shotgun blast and was shocked to finally see a familiar face. And a familiar weapon.


    It was the same 12 gauge shotgun that he had seen with the landlord the night before but this time, it was clutched by his wife. She wore a fiery red shalwar kameez with silver embroidery on it that shimmered from the moonlight. She had fire in her eyes as she stared down at the creature who was blabbering to itself in pain. When the creature looked up at his assailant he raised his hands in surrender but the landlord¡¯s wife slowly walked forward, the shotgun aimed at him.


    The creature realised there was no convincing her and ran back, clutching its shredded arm but soon enough, after another loud bang, his whole body was a pile of steaming flesh just like his brother¡¯s head. Mrs. Malik then turned to look at Faizan and gave him a beaming smile that calmed him down, something he hadn¡¯t felt ever since he had left her house, and he fell down on his back and took deep breaths. He wanted to thank her but was so drained that all he could manage was a Thank you! in his head as he nodded at her in appreciation. He was sure she understood.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± she asked him in Punjabi, doing her best to add some urdu words as well, letting the shotgun rest on her side. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry about what has happened here?¡±


    Faizan nodded, feeling the muscles in his body relax until he remembered his friends, his girlfriend. Hina! He stood up immediately. ¡°Where are my friends? What happened to them? Please, do you know anything about what happened here?¡±


    She shook her head, guilt in her eyes. ¡°Something bad has happened here. A curse, or something. I don¡¯t know what it was but suddenly everyone was attacking each other. Your friends went to go explore the fields when it started, I don¡¯t know what happened. Everyone got lost, including my husband but it seems like I¡¯ve found him¡­¡±


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    Faizan looked to where she was gesturing and saw the hooked prisoner, who he had completely forgotten about because his moaning had become background noise for him during the chase. For a second, he didn¡¯t even recognise the squirming, bloodied husk of a man until he realised he was looking at the landlord himself. His face looked ghostly pale and thin, and it was covered in all sorts of cuts and bruises, no doubt the handy work of the creature. He thought there was fresh tobacco in his mouth until he realised it was a mixture of coagulated blood and pus that oozed out of the open cavities in his mouth from where his teeth had been pulled out. His body hung limply, as if he had lost all control of his body, which Faizan figured had to do with the rusty bloodied hook jammed into his spine. He could not possibly imagine how much pain the man was in.


    He watched as the landlord¡¯s wife pulled out the hook from his back, a bit too roughly, and he screamed in pain so loudly that he could feel the pain deep in his soul. She looked down at him in disgust but nonetheless asked Faizan for help as they flung each of his arms on their shoulders and led him to the nearby building that had a light on. Mr. Malik yelped in pain the whole time, the pitch rising everytime they hit an uneven spot on the ground. He could hear the tinkling of something falling and saw that the landlord¡¯s piss was running down his bloodied shalwar. He wanted to stop there and then so that they could find a more comfortable way for him to be carried but his wife shook her head and insisted they continue this way. He wondered what kind of treatment the landlord had subjected her too but then realised he was in Pakistan. Whatever it was, it would not be a surprise.


    They entered through the narrow doorway of the house into a musty looking sitting room with drab, dusty curtains and sofa that were so bland they looked like they blended into the walls. There was a very dim light tube on the ceiling, but it looked as bright as the sun after the darkness he had had to run through to escape. They set the landlord down onto the sofa, Faizan propping him up into as comfortable a position as he could. He heard a flutter of curtains from the other doorway that connected to the corridor, and saw that it was their daughter. She pushed past Faizan and began tending to her father, examining his wounds. There were tears running down her eyes after seeing her father like this.


    ¡°We can¡¯t help him. Leave him! Take care of Faizan,¡± Mrs. Malik said sternly to her.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, please,¡± said Faizan as the daughter glared at him fiercely with tears in her eyes. There was blood spattered on his face and glass embedded in his skin but he ignored it. ¡°Please, you need to tend to him.¡±


    ¡°He is already dead,¡± said Mrs. Malik in a booming voice, with finality. There was an insanity brewing in her eyes that Faizan could see now in the light. He did not like it.


    ¡°I can help him, I know a way. I know... some people in the caves near the fields. They can help him if I ask them too,¡± she implored with tears in her eyes.


    ¡°You want to save your father?¡± she asked, as if her daughter had said something outrageous. ¡°Save him after everything he has done with us, forcing us to live here like prisoners. Now you finally have a way to get out, by marrying this city boy right in front of you. He has a car and a house and everything. You will be set for life. Shikhar would¡¯ve been perfect too but you had to go and try to kill him with that shotgun.¡±


    Wait, what¡­


    ¡°Shikhar wanted to kill me and my ¡®friends¡¯ in the caves! And now you want me to marry this guy now?!¡± said her daughter, outraged, and shoving him aside as she darted towards her mother. ¡°I don¡¯t want to marry anyone. I don¡¯t even know him!¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know your father either,¡± said her mother, raising her shotgun. ¡°But he is a savage living in a village, and he would have you remain a savage in this village too. I can¡¯t have that happen to you.¡±

 Chapter 9

    Bang!


    Faizan watched in horror as the landlord¡¯s brain exploded and splattered all over the wall behind the sofa, like an abstract painting in an art museum. Inaya screamed in horror, her wailing reverberating throughout the whole house and piercing Faizan¡¯s ears, who felt his brain was drifting deeper into insanity, unable to come to terms with the horrors he had seen. The smell of blood and guts that he thought he had run away from filled his nostrils again, and even deeper than when Pehlwan had been killed, because of the stifling atmosphere of the mud brick houses. He could also detect a hint of gunpowder and smoke.


    The mother laughed letting the shotgun drop to the side. ¡°Let¡¯s see your friends save him now.¡±


    Inaya had broken down to tears on her knees in front of the gory mess that had been her father. Her mother approached her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Inaya. This is a blessing. Now you can marry the boy from the city, your life is set now.¡±


    Inaya continued to weep, ignoring her mother. Faizan had been so shocked by the murder he had completely forgotten about the mention of marriage. There was no way he was going to marry, least of all anyone in this insane village. He began to slowly shuffle backwards out of the house, the doorway leading outside not much further. The landlord¡¯s wife had seemed like such a nice lady but now it seemed like she had gone insane like the rest of them. He wondered if his friends had suffered the same fate, or worse, the fate that the landlord had met. He knew he had to get away and find the answers to these questions themselves.


    He had covered about half the distance to the doorway when in a swift movement, the landlady had the shotgun cocked in his face. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare move, son. You are not leaving this house until you are married to my daughter.¡±


    Faizan froze in place, looking into her insane addled eyes. He glanced at Inaya behind her, whose tears had dried up now and she was looking at him in concern. He hoped that she understood that he too was not willing to marry her.


    He heard movement behind him and turned out to see an elderly man enter, with a long white bushy beard that looked like it hadn¡¯t been combed in ages and bushy eyebrows that covered his eyes. He had an enormous white turban on his head that was darkened from not being washed. He wore no shirt and the musky smell of sweat filled up the whole room. He was scratching his hairy chest and looked unbothered by the tense proceedings and the dead body, as if it was just a decoration piece in the room.


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    ¡°Ah, maulvi sahab. You are just in time,¡± said the landlord¡¯s wife, her demeanour completely changing but she did not lower the shotgun. ¡°Would you like some tea?¡±


    ¡°If it''s not too much trouble,¡± replied the maulvi politely. Faizan could see him examining him even though his eyes were not visible.


    ¡°Go! Get maulvi sahab some tea! Get some for your soon-to-be husband too, maybe your tea will win him over,¡± she said smiling at Faizan which made him wince.


    ¡°The boy you have chosen for your daughter is very handsome,¡± noted the maulvi sahab approaching Faizan. ¡°Looks like he¡¯s from a wealthy family. God has really blessed you, with wealth, a big house and now this.¡±


    ¡°Indeed, I am very thankful to him,¡± she smiled and then turned to glare at her daughter, who slowly shuffled towards the kitchen, her eyes widened, clearly in shock.


    ¡°Please, sir, sit,¡± said the landlord¡¯s wife gesturing towards the sofa that was set perpendicular to the bloodied one. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for the mess but unfortunately, there were some obstacles in the way of marriage. But as you can see her father is present and well, he is currently unable to consent for his daughter which makes me the one in charge. Will that be fine?¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± said the maulvi, still unfazed by the body¡¯s presence as he sat down. ¡°The devil sends many obstacles in the way of enlightenment but someone as blessed as you should be able to get past them. As you have blessed me with this chance to marry your daughter, and will no doubt compensate me for this holy opportunity.¡±


    ¡°Of course, sir, of course. Son, why don¡¯t you go sit there with him as well so we can get started.¡±


    But Faizan didn¡¯t move. He was scared for his life but there was no way he was going to get forced to marry someone like that, regardless of the shotgun in his face. He thought of Hina, and knew he was loyal to her to the death.


    ¡°I said, could you PLEASE sit down,¡± she said, cocking the shotgun. Faizan gulped but he stood his ground.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to marry her.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± she asked. ¡°She is so pretty and she will bless you with many sons. She will work hard for you and I know you will not find a woman like that in the city. They have too much of an attitude.¡±


    Faizan didn¡¯t reply but she understood from his gaze that his decision was unchanged. She sighed.


    ¡°Does he have to say yes?¡± asked the landlord¡¯s wife, turning to look at the maulvi.


    ¡°Yes, that is what the Lord and our dear Prophet has commanded,¡± he answered.


    ¡°Even if I compensate you a lot more than the agreed amount?¡±


    The maulvi thought for a moment. ¡°Even so. The Lord has blessed us with the third Eid, I possibly cannot anger him.¡±


    ¡°Very well, then,¡± she sighed, turning to the maulvi and blasting him in the face with the shotgun. Before Faizan could even react, he saw a flash of movement and the butt of the shotgun smashed hard into his face. He fell down with a groan, holding onto his head that felt like it had been smashed in. All he could see was red until the pain got too much for him, and the red slowly washed away into blackness. He lost consciousness.

 Chapter 10

    He slowly drifted into consciousness and saw only images drifting in his view; a paint-peeled ceiling, the leering face of someone in his face, flickering candles and the sign of struggle. He finally woke up to find himself in a musty bedroom whose walls had shadows moving across it, courtesy of the candles dotted around the room. His head was throbbing with pain, as if there was a blackhole inside it that was pushing waves of pain to his brain. He could feel something like a soft cloth around the wound and tried to move his hands to feel it, but they would not budge. He tried to do the same with his legs and realised that they were tied to the bedposts. His wrists and ankles felt sore courtesy of how rough the rope was tied to him. He turned to look at his ankles and was shocked.


    What the hell was he wearing?


    He looked like he was wearing a male wedding gown, called a sherwani that looked like a decorated shalwar kameez. It was off-white with golden designs and bands around the edges, and a small brown scarf that hung from his shoulders.


    He remembered what the landlady had said and the events following his loss of consciousness came flooding in. Was she really going to force him to get married? How was she going to manage that after the maulvi had been shot dead?


    Something else was bothering him a lot too. His body felt like it had been cleaned and he could feel that the wounds he had received from the chases had been disinfected and cleaned the way they stung. The faint smell of musk was emanating from his body through his collar. He remembered how the landlord¡¯s wife had knocked him clean and had some very faint images of being dragged by her.


    He was starting to feel violated.


    That¡¯s when the door slammed open and in came Mrs. Malik, looking bright and cheerful and it looked like she had changed into fancier clothes as well, and she even wore really heavy makeup that he knew was customary in the villages.


    ¡°Ah, you have finally woken up,¡± she said and started to shuffle around the room, arranging all the various decorations and candles, and also making sure the pillows around him were set up properly. ¡°Plenty of space for you and your, well¡­ she¡¯s not your wife but it¡¯s okay, you can simply take the punishment of the hundred whips after you guys are done.¡±


    Punishment? He was so confused, his head hurt so much. Then he remembered how the punishment for fornication before marriage was a hundred whips for each one of them. She really was determined to go through with it, thought Faizan. He could not see the daughter anywhere and he hoped that it would stay that way.


    ¡°Are you ready?¡± she asked. Faizan did not reply and instead began to struggle against the ropes. The rope dug deep into his wrists and deepened the wounds but he did not relent. ¡°Aha, looks like you have plenty of energy to release. You will give my daughter the time of her life then.¡±


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    Faizan stopped, disgusted by the thought. The only person he had had sex with was Hina and he was fiercely loyal to her. He would not cheat on her, least of all with someone who was not even willing to do the same.


    The landlady turned towards the open door and shouted. ¡°Inaya! Come here, it¡¯s time for your wedding night. Come here, my love. Don¡¯t leave your husband waiting when he is ready.¡±


    He heard loud sobbing coming from the corridor which was followed by the sound of quick shuffling feet as she ran away. Mrs. Malik sighed and chuckled as she turned to look at Faizan. The laugh was clearly forced and there was menace in it which was confirmed when he saw her face as she exited the room.


    His heart sank when heard the sounds of violence as her mom began to beat up her daughter. She was screaming at her madly while the poor girl screamed and begged for her mom to stop. Eventually, he heard her the sounds of their approaching footsteps, the daughter scrambling while her mom forced her through the doorway.


    The landlady came in beaming with pride and happiness as he brought her daughter in. Inaya was dressed in a very bright red gown, with even heavier makeup than her mom, the foundation so white that he could clearly see the point where her normal brown skin resumed. The cheap mascara she wore had begun to mix in with the tears and was wearing, forming cascading lines across her face. Some of the foundations on her reddened cheeks were gone and he could tell she had been slapped hard there. He felt terrible for her. She really did not deserve what she was going through.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t she beautiful?¡± the landlady asked, presenting her daughter to him, like she was a slab of meat. Faizan continued to feel disgusted at the treatment she was receiving. Inaya continued to look down at the floor, tears dripping down her face.


    ¡°Well, then, Inaya. Your future husband is waiting for you. Normally, he would have to be the one to strip you but I think in this case, we can make an exception. Go on dear, go take his clothes off.¡±


    A surge of panic surged through him and he began to struggle with the knots on his wrist. ¡°Why are you doing this?! This isn¡¯t right! What the hell is wrong with you?!¡± he screamed as he fought against the knots.


    ¡°Now, now, I know you are nervous and angry, but once Inaya is done with you, you will be happy and satisfied. Soon enough, you will have plenty of kids and live a happy life in the city.¡±


    ¡°But I don''t want to marry her! I love someone else!¡±


    ¡°I know you do. I¡¯ve seen how you look at that girl, Hina I think her name is. Seems more like lust than love, the way she dressed like a whore.¡±


    ¡°How dare-¡±


    ¡°Why do you worry, son,¡± interrupted the landlady. ¡°You can just marry her later on. You are, afterall, allowed four marriages and you are a rich boy from Islamabad, why do you worry?¡±


    Faizan had had enough. ¡°Let me go!¡± He began shouting and struggling even harder against the rope, his wrists turning purple from the stifling blood flow. His tantrum was cut short, however, when the landlady slapped him, so hard that the sound of it shook the whole house and Inaya stopped her sobbing out of sheer surprise.


    ¡°I have been nice with you,¡± said Mrs. Malik with such a terrifying look of anger on her face that Faizan completely froze. His face stung so hard that he felt it was burning and he would not be surprised the sheer force of the slap would bruise it. ¡°I have given you and your friends shelter in your time of need, food when you were hungry and even my daughter with no expectations from you. And you still act like this with me. Enough is enough. Inaya, take off his clothes.¡±


    Inaya gave her mother a side glance, her whole body shaking as she avoided looking at Faizan. She did not move.


    ¡°Inaya! I said take off his clothes!¡± she repeated in a booming voice and Faizan was scared she would slap her like she had him but she stayed her hand. ¡°Do it! Think of him as your husband, it is your duty to satisfy him so that he can give you a son! Inaya!¡±


    Inaya still did not move.


    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll do it myself!¡±

 Chapter 11

    Faizan didn¡¯t even get a chance to react and in a swift movement, his shalwar had been completely ripped off, leaving his lower body only in his undies. Faizan felt exposed and did his best to close his legs so he could hide some of it but there was no use, his feet were firmly tied to the bedpost.


    ¡°Ah, look at that Inaya, he has such a clean body and look he¡¯s even blushing, what an innocent boy. He will take such good care of you,¡± she said but Inaya had her head turned away, refusing to look and Faizan was glad. ¡°Inaya, why don¡¯t you look at him? He¡¯s not even fully naked. C¡¯mon, look!¡±


    Inaya refused to look until her mother grabbed her head and forced it towards Faizan. She pulled her head so hard towards him that he thought she had dislocated her neck but Inaya opened her eyes a little bit and burst into tears. Faizan could almost sense an apology in her crying, as if she was ashamed to have looked at him while he so obviously did not want to. He could also see trauma on her face. He did not blame her. What was happening to them did not feel unlike rape.


    He felt intensely violated and he knew it was going to get worse. He wanted to struggle and fight but he knew there was no point. He was also fearful of what the landlady would do, what if she ended up killing him or inflicting pain so bad that he would permanently crippled, all so she could continue with the insane fantasy she had in her head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± she said. ¡°She is just shy but she will get used to it soon. C¡¯mon, Inaya, continue taking them off. No? Fine, I would have beat you black and blue if not for the fact that he is so handsome. I¡¯ll do it for you then,¡± she said, looking seductively as Faizan. He hadn¡¯t gotten used to the insane persona she had and now his anxiety rocketed after she looked at him with desire.


    She slowly approached the foot of the bed and lowered herself onto it. She slowly approached him on her knees until she was over his lower body, all the while still looking up at him. The dupatta of her red kameez had come loose off her shoulders, and was now hanging under her as she slowly approached, the soft fabric of it tickling his naked legs and sending tingles up his spine as she came up to him. The neck of her kameez was also hanging low exposing the top of her breasts and Faizan could sense she was doing it on purpose. He felt extremely uncomfortable and his heart palpitated with extreme anxiety. He felt so ashamed he couldn¡¯t even turn to look at Inaya but her presence made the whole situation just as worse. He tried to retreat his body as much as he could and wished a black hole would open up and swallow him, taking him to whatever forsaken place, because at least it would be better than here.


    She was crouched right above his upper body and lowered herself onto him, her face so close he could smell the strong perfume and feel her hungry warm breath on his cheeks. He tried to turn away as she looked into his eyes.


    ¡°You are even more handsome up close. I wish I had found a man like you, from the big city, rich and handsome. We could have had so many children but no matter, I can settle for grandchildren,¡± she said, then lowered her mouth all the way to his ear and whispered. ¡°Or when Inaya doesn¡¯t know you could maybe take care of me. I want to know what it feels like to be taken by a man like you. What she doesn¡¯t know won¡¯t hurt her.¡±


    She gave his ear a soft nibble and then began to slowly take off the dupatta around his shoulders, slowly pulling it so that the soft fabric gently tickled the nape of his neck. She then began to unbutton his shirt, slowly and steadily, all the while kissing the exposed skin between which sent waves and waves of anxiety shooting up his body. Faizan was too terrified to move. After she had finished the unbuttoning, she threw apart both sides of the shirt exposing his full upper body and the rush of air on his body sent goosebumps all over it. The landlady brought the tip of her tongue on the top of his groin and then brought it all the way up his belly, chest and neck before bringing her lips to a halt right in front of his lips. He was shaking as he looked up at her, thinking she was going to smooch him but she stopped.


    ¡°Can¡¯t take all the fun from Inaya,¡± she whispered and then quickly grabbed his underwear and pulled it off. Faizan yelped as she did so and found that his completely shrunken penis was completely exposed to them. He was glad that Inaya was still looking away, compared to her mother whose piercing gaze he could feel on it as she returned next to her daughter who continued to look away.


    ¡°All that work and you¡¯re still not excited,¡± she said, frowning. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m too old for you. Or maybe he is so dedicated to you that he refuses to give in. What a nice man I have chosen for you, my daughter. Maybe he needs your touch and your body against his. Go on Inaya, your husband needs you.¡±


    Inaya refused to look towards him and shook her head. She began sobbing again when her mother forced her to look towards him. Faizan felt himself going red when she looked towards his nude body before she pushed her mother away and began sobbing on her knees. Her mother looked down at her in disappointment. She sighed.


    ¡°You continue to embarrass me in front of your husband but no matter, I¡¯ll do it myself yet again. Let¡¯s see how much he can resist me,¡± she said, smirking towards Faizan and biting her lip. ¡°I may be old but I have experience, and experience is what counts in the end.¡±


    She lowered herself onto the bed again and crawled up to him, stopping right below his penis. She lowered her mouth onto it and gave it a gentle flick with her tongue. Faizan felt a tingle down there but the sheer horror of the situation made sure that his penis did not react. She began to suck on his dick, gently at first and then harder, but his dick still didn¡¯t react. He was starting to get overwhelmed by the helplessness and guilt that was filling up inside him. He felt as if he was cheating on Hina. Hina, the love of his life. What would she say if she saw him like this? She would break up with him once and for all. Was that pleasure he felt just now? Why would she want someone who was getting pleasure from a random aunty in the village. These thoughts simply piled on the anxiety inside him.


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    Mrs. Malik was starting to get frustrated by his penis still not getting erect and to his shock began pulling down the collar of her kameez. She then lowered her cream coloured bra revealing big brown breasts that hung loosely from underneath. She spit on them and began rubbing them on his penis while he and Inaya (who had turned to see what she had spat at looked in disbelief). Faizan could not believe what he was looking at, he simply could not process it and as before, his penis did not get erect. The landlady was beginning to panic now.


    ¡°Why isn¡¯t this working?! Have I really lost my touch? Your goddamned father has made me lose my touch!¡± she bellowed at Inaya who sat below her. ¡°Go on Inaya! It''s your t-¡±


    She stopped as if she suddenly remembered something. Her figure eased and she looked around and smirked at Faizan, her breasts still hanging out. ¡°I just remembered I have another trick up my sleeve. A concoction given to me by Inaya¡¯s friends in the cave, when I was having trouble with Inaya¡¯s father. Just you wait here, I¡¯ll be back in a bit.¡±


    She hurriedly left the room leaving an awkward silence in the room between Faizan and Inaya. She continued to sob on the floor, not even daring to look towards him, while he lay there naked and exposed, unable to move. The silence made the anxiety ring in his head and he felt on the verge of insanity. He wanted to say something to Inaya, an apology, anything but he was unable to. What was he even supposed to say? The awkward silence between them was the most horrific he had felt till now.


    Inaya¡¯s mother returned with a small vial of a transparent liquid from which she removed the small lid and held it up in front of her, as if presenting it to all of them. She turned to look at Faizan.


    ¡°Now let¡¯s see you try to resist me,¡± she said, a dark confidence gleamed in her eyes and he was so frightened by the possibility of whatever was coming next that his breath began to catch in his chest. Was she going to roofy him or something? Was he actually going to get raped? These were the thoughts rushing in his head as she approached. He wanted to scream but he couldn¡¯t and looked towards Inaya to ask for help but knew she was in the same situation as he was, too shocked to do or say anything.


    She slowly approached Faizan, returning to the same position she had been, bent over his penis, this time carefully holding the vial up. Faizan made a haphazard attempt to fight against his knots as she poured the liquid gently over his cock.


    He felt a surge of energy emanate through him.


    It was much like the time he had seen the giant porcupine quill that had been the masjid minar but this time much stronger. He felt his penis go erect almost immediately as this new strength within him clawed to get out of it as she continued to pleasure him. There was a dark and mysterious power, an inhumane power, flowing through him. His vision had gone awry from the sheer strength of the energy and this increased as the landlady rubbed his penis with the liquid covering more skin. There was initial guilt as he felt the pleasure but soon gave into it. He saw distant galaxies and planets, and worlds that he had never and could not imagine. He had soon forgotten the room and the people in the room, and the village and the world, and his whole life as he gave into it. The landlady pleasuring him had merely become a vessel for his pleasure and nothing more. The pleasure began to build up and up and he was moaning like crazy, until finally he felt all the energy inside him explode outwards from a giant porcupine quill and he saw the explosions of galaxies and constellations unfold right in front of him. And just like that, a strong surge and he was slowly rewinding back, from the giant unimaginable galaxies to the world, to the room and back to his horror-filled life.


    He saw the landlady and her daughter but could not make out exactly what was going on. His vision was still hazy and it was like he was looking at them from underwater. There was a very shrill whistling in his ears, as if he had tinnitus, so he could not make out the voices as the landlady and the daughter tousled and argued. He could see something white and sticky on the landlady¡¯s face that had mixed in with her cheap makeup and it looked like she was trying to force her daughter on top of him. He looked a bit lower and was surprised to see that instead of the erect penis he could feel, he saw that it was a giant thick porcupine quill. That can¡¯t be right.  He would¡¯ve reacted a lot more but his senses were still numbed.


    The landlady had brought the daughter close to the quill now and he could see the daughter¡¯s face looking at it in horror while trying to pull away from it. Her mother was persistent, however, and continued to push her towards it, ecstasy etched onto her face. The daughter¡¯s face was mere inches from his face when she suddenly moved to the side. The mother, who had been pushing with all her might, fell over and the momentum of it carried her all the way ahead.


    This time, even through the numbness, he was horrified when the landlady¡¯s face hit his penis and went straight to the quill. Blood splashed all over his groin and the quill as it pierced straight through. Adrenaline flowed through him and the alertness it brought meant he could hear again. The first thing he heard was the daughter¡¯s screams as she watched her mother, whose body shook like a fish gasping from oxygen, trying to pull out but all the shaking did was drive the quill deeper in her skull. He could feel the inside of it on the quill and the sensation made him want to empty his guts out as he felt it jerk from side to side as the landlady fought for her life. Within a few seconds, however, the light had completely drained from her and she lay there, her grotesque face laying on his groin, while her daughter screamed and cried. The horror was too much for her and she ran out of the room and the house as Faizan heard the outside door slam, meaning he was all alone to face the horrors that had taken place.


    As he began to get more and more alert, the shock and anxiety inside him began to get more and more unbearable as the reality of the moment hit him. There was a literal human being pierced onto his penis quill, the blood still flowing down it. He could feel the blood or whatever fluids inside her head coagulating onto his penis quill and the smell of blood, that had grown even stronger after the murders that the landlady had done in the living room. It was overwhelming. He turned towards the side and hurled out his insides, all the food from last night came out until there was nothing there and he still continued to dry heave. This is just a nightmare. Some sick nightmare.


    He turned to look back and saw that it wasn¡¯t. He felt intense guilt as he saw that his semen was still on her face and was mixing in with the blood, and all the sensations and feelings he had felt when he had lost consciousness came back. He felt intense guilt within him. He had taken pleasure from her and now she lay there dead on his penis. What the fuck was going on? No, this is not what he wanted. He was not a bad man. WHAT IS HAPPENING? What would Hina say if she saw this? NO THIS WAS NOT HIS FAULT. The pleasure had not been his fault, he had not wanted it.


    The whistling was beginning to return to his ears, but this time it was caused by trauma as his brain began to shut down, incapable of processing all the thoughts and emotions he was experiencing. The last thing he saw before everything black was the pierced skull of the landlady, and his penis within, an image that would haunt him for the rest of his life.


    And probably in the grave too.

 Chapter 12

    Faizan swam in and out of consciousness, still feeling the meaty wetness between his legs as he lay alone in the room. The events that had occured replayed in his dreams in sick and foreboding ways that made his slumber very restless. Inaya was pleasuring him with her mouth while she cried, the salty tears flowing down his penis, he was fucking her mother¡¯s skull while her husband watched. He tried to resist them even in his dream but it was like that deep, dark power within him was trying to bring out some sick, twisted part of him that he had never known had existed or of whom he had caught only glimpses. When he finally did wake up, all the images from his dreams hit him hard and he looked down at the rotting skull of the landlady between his legs. There were flies swimming all around it and a sick pervasive smell invading his nostrils. The penis quill had gone and he could feel his normal flaccid penis between the skull.


    He screamed.


    Guilt and anxiety had built up inside him and he screamed as hard as he could and when that was too much, he broke into loud wails as tears streamed down his eyes. He tried his best to fight against the knots until his wrists were bleeding and would only stop to dry heave to the side when it had become too much for him.


    He tried to shake his body as much as he could to dislodge the landlady¡¯s head but the coagulated blood and flesh had stuck to his groin and thus would not budge from the force. He had to stop trying eventually because moving his body back and forth reminded him of the dream he had had and all it did was make him more insane.


    He cried and screamed for what felt like hours, the insanity beginning to creep in until he felt a vibration. Was that the door? He suddenly began to feel even more anxious. What if it was one of the villagers? What would they do if they saw him like this? Maybe it was one of his friends? What would they think if they saw him like this?


    A young man walked into the room with a bloodied white shalwar kameez and Faizan was shocked when he recognised who it was. Khalid stood in the doorway, an investigative stare on his face, that turned into surprise and then shock when he recognised him.


    ¡°Faizan? Is that you? Oh my god...¡±


    Faizan wanted to reply but no words came out of his mouth. The look on his face, however, told Khalid whatever he needed to know. He came running to Faizan and looked down at his naked body.


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    ¡°What the hell happened here?¡± he asked. A look of horror, but also sympathy on his face, as he tried to figure out if he wanted to remove the body or the knots. He decided to go for the knots while Faizan blabbered and sobbed, trying to put his thoughts into words.


    Khalid removed the knots and Faizan instantly went to work on removing the body, cringing as he felt the coagulated blood and flesh pulling onto the skin of his groin, like melted wax. He pushed hard and threw the body to the side, turning to look at the landlady¡¯s disfigured face that had a circle of darkened blood in the middle as if there was a black hole inside her face. He began working on the knots on his feet with Khalid but he was unable to do so because of the lack of focus and the fact that his hands were shaking. When he had been freed, he ran to the adjacent dingy bathroom and began to wash away at the mess on his groin, having to use soap for some of the more stubborn stains. He looked at himself in the mirror and looked in disgust at his zombie-like expression, his face was creased, his eyes darkened and his eyes looked hollow. It looked like he had walked the plains of Hell itself and stared at the devil, but he knew what he had gone through was much worse. He had managed to finally clean his penis, and he could feel some rashes there, a reminder of what he had gone through. He was so disgusted he wished he could cut it off himself.


    He saw Khalid looking at him from the reflection in the mirror and turned around to look at him. He had a glass of water that he handed to Faizan who gulped it instantly. He didn¡¯t care he was naked even if he saw Khalid awkwardly looking down as he stood there, trying to sate the burning fire of thirst in his throat. He began gulping down water from the jug that Khalid had brought, who looked around for something. After a while, he brought him a fading white salwar kameez that he wore, the faint smell of cleaning powder on it.


    When Faizan was done, he looked at Khalid and shook his head. Khalid understood that he meant not to ask him what had happened. Faizan looked at Khalid¡¯s bloodied shirt and figured he had gone through shit of his own.


    ¡°Where is everyone?¡± Faizan croaked looking around, tears still running down his eyes. ¡°What the hell is going on here?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. All I know is that shit hit the fan once Daniel went with Shikhar to get the car repaired. The landlady went nuts and tried to murder the girls and so we escaped,¡± answered Khalid and Faizan cringed as he became aware of the body on the bed again. ¡°They tried to wake you up too but you wouldn¡¯t budge. And well, we were running towards the mechanic near the masjid when we got separated by a mob. I haven¡¯t been able to find them yet.¡±


    Faizan sighed looking down at his feet. He felt disheartened but if Khalid was alive then it meant there was hope for the rest.


    ¡°I found Daniyal by the way,¡± he answered and Faizan¡¯s ears pricked up. ¡°He¡¯s in one of the cages at the big slaughter grounds. I was just about to free him when they caught me and I had to run all the way here until that big lumbering bastard tried to catch me. I found him outside and then I heard your cries, holy fuck did you actually manage to kill him.¡±


    ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t me. It was...¡± he trailed off gesturing to the body nearby. Khalid nodded.


    ¡°I see. And I¡¯m guessing she killed all those people in the living room too.¡±


    ¡°One of those is her husband.¡±


    ¡°Fuck.¡±

 Chapter 13

    There was a temporary silence as they both processed the information each of them had given each other before Khalid took a quick drink of his water and slammed it on a nearby table. ¡°We need to hurry. God knows how much longer Daniyal has left. We need to save him.¡±


    Faizan, who had been sitting on the edge of the bed, got to his feet and got slightly groggy by the rush of blood that surged into his brain. His vision blurred a bit but he managed to keep his balance.


    ¡°Will you be okay?¡± Khalid asked coming to his aid but Faizan stopped him and assured him he would be alright. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get going then.¡±


    They made their way out of the room and the moment Faizan crossed into the corridor, he could smell the rotting flesh all the way into the dining room. It has been a lot warmer there and he clasped his fingers around his nostrils as he crossed the dining room buzzing with flies. He took a quick glance and saw the decomposing bodies, barely recognisable anymore. Even the air outside had the slight smell of carrion because of the dead bodies of Phelwan and the little creature. It felt like to him the smell had now become a part of him, melded to his soul.


    Nonetheless, once they had walked past a few houses, he could breathe a lot easier but caught his breath when he saw the minaar of the masjid. It had grown so long that it looked like it was touching the top of the sky, and now he was sure he wasn¡¯t seeing things because it looked like it was slightly transforming into a porcupine quill. The long structure looked like a minaar but was more pointier and had slight shades of white and black on it. Was this really the work of witches? What kind of powerful magic is this? He wondered if the dreams and hallucinations he had had were just visions or actually real.


    Faizan followed Khalid who was leading them towards the village houses that were at the edge of the fields. He looked towards the sea of darkness that was the fields, with wheat stalks swaying like shadows of demons writhing amongst each other and large burning fires dotted around where he could see the silhouettes of people moving around, committing god knows what atrocities as they cheered in loud voices. Towards the village structures he could hear the sounds of dying screams and happy cheering too, which grew louder as they got closer. Faizan¡¯s heart sank as they approached, the darkness of the deserted area of the village disappearing as they neared the fires of the chaos. He couldn¡¯t believe he was going back there after everything that had happened, but then again, what he had had to go through with the landlady was far worse.


    He knew they had entered the danger zone when Khalid stopped and took him towards the side of the street they had just entered. Faizan could see the running open gutters on the side, redder and thicker than ever, as if all the sacrifices were feeding the village and it was getting stronger.


    As if it was a breathing, living identity.


    ¡°What happened?¡± asked Faizan looking around, his heart jumping at every flickering shadow or hint of movement.


    ¡°You need to blend in,¡± he replied and crouched down at the gutter. ¡°Come here.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean blend in?¡± he asked.


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    Khalid gestured towards his own bloodied clothes. ¡°The way you¡¯re dressed, they¡¯re going to spot you instantly. If they even get a whiff that you¡¯re from the city, they¡¯re going to fuck you up.¡±


    Faizan realised what he meant and felt nauseous at the thought of all that blood and filth on his clothes. He had seen and smelt more than enough blood and guts to last him a lifetime. He shook his head as Khalid waited for him to crouch down with him. He was surprised when Khalid, who had seemed so compassionate with him before, scooped up the running blood and threw it on his clothes. He looked annoyed and there was frustration on his face. Faizan wondered what was up and stood frozen as Khalid covered him with it aggressively. He figured that he was stressed out and was just trying his best to survive, and so Faizan let him, doing his best to keep control of his gag reflex. After all, he wanted to save Daniyal too just like he did and time was running out.


    ¡°Make sure you let me do all the talking, alright,¡± Khalid said and even his tone appeared more aggressive. ¡°You don¡¯t know how to speak Punjabi after all. Come on, follow me now and do as I do.¡±


    Faizan followed him as they walked through the streets feeling even more unsafe than he had had before. The fires and the noises were closer than ever and his heart leapt whenever they turned a corner. Eventually, his fears came to fruition when he saw a group of them approaching, carrying bright torches that elongated their shadows over them. Faizan held his breath and almost jumped out of his skin when he heard Khalid chanting religious incantations like them.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, go along with it,¡± said Khalid in a quiet voice in between the chants. Faizan followed suit, his voice croaking. ¡°Louder and don''t pronounce it like that. You need to say it like they do, with an accent.¡±


    Faizan raised his voice and tried to chant it like Khalid did who was eventually satisfied with it. He began to jump on his heels and pump his fist into the air and encouraged Faizan to join him, who did his best. He felt awkward and did his best to pretend the approaching villagemen didn¡¯t exist. God, this is not going to work.


    To his surprise, the villagemen did not react the way he had expected and instead chanted along with Khalid and eventually stopped in front of him when they met up. It seemed like they considered Khalid a part of them and he was impressed by how he had managed to fool them. He spoke in the same Punjabi dialect as them, and Faizan barely understood anything. If he hadn¡¯t known Khalid he would have probably thought he was one of them as well. It seemed he was talking with the head of the groups about the ¡®proceedings¡¯ taking place in the village.


    Although they did not show any suspicions towards Khalid, he did catch a few of them staring at him. He tried to act as natural as possible but felt their stares piercing into him and he began to sweat nervously. He was so preoccupied with the anxiety of the situation that he didn¡¯t even notice how they knew Khalid¡¯s name. Eventually, Khalid and them laughed out loud, breaking Faizan¡¯s trance and they walked away on their own paths.


    Faizan let out a deep sigh of relief. ¡°Holy shit, you really have them fooled. How did you do that?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that right now. I¡¯ll tell you once we get out of here. Come on, we¡¯re nearly there.¡±


    As they walked on ahead, the population of villagemen began to grow until eventually they were in the thick of the chaos. The streets were crowded with them and at certain choke points near the main slaughter grounds, they had to squeeze through them. Faizan could smell the sweat and blood on their bodies as he would do so. It was unbelievable how he was walking among the very people who not so long ago had been chasing him. The air was chock-full of the smell of blood and death, and Faizan felt himself getting sick already. He would have thrown up there and then if not for the fear keeping him in check. He also felt his body sweating because of the sheer warmth all around courtesy of the burning fires that it seemed blazed among all the houses that belonged to who they dubbed as ¡®sinners¡¯ or those of other religions.


    All around he could hear the haunting cries and pleas of the victims as they passed by slaughter grounds and houses where the streets were full of blood and body parts. Headless bodies deemed unfit for consumption and their innards were strewn amongst heads, as if they were dolls in a children¡¯s playroom. Other bodies were being dragged around or carried like meat carcasses, ready to be cut open. Countless times he stepped into a puddle of blood that had formed because of the gutters being clogged up from meat, or got intestines tangled up in his feet, or slipped upon the semi-digested innards of a carved stomach. What if the rest of his friends were among the meat and blood he saw all around him? Or what if they were cooked and digesting inside some savage¡¯s stomach? What if Hina, the love of his life, was just the pile of bones he saw on the streets? He tried his best to push away these thoughts. He had to believe they were alive because otherwise, he had no other motivation to keep going.


    He had to believe.

 Chapter 14

    He saw various butchers sitting down on mats or standing near hanging bodies, carefully cutting pieces of meat or hacking away at limbs. He heard the shearing of knives as they were sharpened and the brittle cracks of bones as they were snapped. There were various pots boiling or barbeques taking place where the meat was being cooked into all sorts of broths and dishes, the smell of which made him want to throw his guts up. How were they even doing this? How could they eat the flesh of the very brothers and sisters who had lived besides them as one of their own? To his shock, he even saw some people playing football kicking away at heads, some of whom were little children... It was as if he had stumbled inside Satan''s sick fantasy. And yet, the villagers taking part in the slaughter were happy and cheerful, hugging and wishing each other a happy Eid while exclaiming how God had blessed them on this day.


    What kind of a sick god would bless this day?


    Eventually, they came up to a big village square that looked like a market place, courtesy of the various stalls all around that were selling all sorts of items. Khalid and him had to push through large crowds gathered there and as he made through to the front he could see what the stalls and merchants were selling. He saw the standard sweets, tea, snacks and groceries being sold which made it seem like any other standard marketplace in Pakistan. But then he saw stalls that were cutting humans on the spot and then cooking them in front of an audience who cheered whenever a slaughter took place. He saw long stalls selling all sorts of weaponry and religious trinkets, where merchants bellowed how their wares would protect them and help them on their paths to hunting down the blasphemous witches. He heard the cries of women too and as he moved forward he saw some of them, wearing strange black and white garbs that revealed more skin than he had seen the women show in the village. The crowd of village men gathered around were throwing rocks at them and uttering foul curses at her. Whore! Satan¡¯s whores! Pagans! Witches! To his disgust, he also saw some of the men fondling the women as they were led to or from pires. It amazed him how these men looked down on them because of their religion and yet punished them in ways that went against their religion too.


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    He looked closer at the so-called witches and felt himself stumble for a second as the world seemed to sink into the background. He felt the strange wave of energy flow through him again, significantly weaker than before but still noticeable. He realised it was because of the quills on their clothes that made them look like they had prickly skin. He could even see the witches through the bodies of the gathered men, as if their skin was translucent and the aura of the quills glowed through. Faizan was convinced that they were indeed witches because what else explained all the hallucinations he was seeing. Maybe he was just going insane?


    The witches were scarred and bloody, writhing and screaming in pain as pebbles and rocks were hurled at them. Some of the more injured ones had either passed out or died, their skin and clothes drenched with blood as they hung limply. Faizan felt sorry for them as he walked past them, wishing he could do something to help them. One of the witches, a young girl with red hennaed hair for whom the torture was in the initial stages was crying as she was being pelted and doing her best to fight against the knots so that she could defend herself. As she looked up towards her assailants, Faizan noticed her staring at him regardless of the rows of bodies between them. As she did so, he felt the wave of energy flowing through him get stronger and then suddenly, it rose even more as all the witches tied to the pyres looked up at him. Some of them were practically on the verge of death and they still stared at him, unflinching, and he felt the energy buzzing through every vein in his body. He also felt rage, unbridled rage at the village men who were torturing them, as if all their emotions had funneled into him.


    As suddenly as the energy had erupted inside him, it disappeared and the witches returned to their torment. Although he couldn¡¯t feel their anger anymore, the feelings still lingered inside him and he felt a hint of hatred towards the villagemen and a sense of allegiance towards the witches. After he had saved his friends, he would do his best to help out the witches too.


    The witches and the weapons being sold by the merchants also reminded him of Shikhar and he wondered what he was up to. Was he among the crazy villagemen too who hunted down the witches and uttered religious incantations into the air as they did so before they consumed their flesh all in the name of salvation from god? Or maybe he was running for his life from the villagemen for being from the city? Something told him that would not be the case courtesy of the weapons that he had seen in Shikhar¡¯s room. Shikhar was a hunter, not someone who could be a prey. He hoped that he had had at least some sense of humanity in him that he had kept the rest of his friends safe. And Hina especially.


    Please let her be safe.

 Chapter 15

    As they moved on ahead, the crowd began to get even thicker until eventually they found themselves squeezing through sweaty and bloody bodies again. A few times he even felt some of them nudge themselves into him and he¡¯d groan as elbows would dig into him painfully. At the front, he could catch a glimpse of the slaughter grounds ahead but it was near the front when he dropped dead in his tracks. He felt the whistling in his ears return as his brain struggled to process what he was looking at.


    It was a bloodbath. The grounds ahead were full of butchers slaughtering people that were being dragged one by one out of rusted and smelling cages, like they were cattle while the others chained inside watched in horror. Among them he also saw women and children screaming and crying, begging for mercy but the butchers paid no heed as their blood sprayed onto their clothes and faces. The ground was completely red, so much so that it looked like the plains of Hell itself. He had been shocked when he had seen all this from the roofs but it was up close here where all of it hit him. He wanted to disintegrate there and then. He wanted his soul to be ripped apart and to just dissolve into the stars, as if it had never existed or felt the pain and horror that he was experiencing right now.


    He realised that in his shock he had lost Khalid among the crowd and began to panickedly look for him. All he saw around were the grinning dark brown faces of the village men, like demons in the Hell he had found himself in. He had to find him and he had to do fast because Khalid was his only chance of survival among these people. He was practically a walking hunk of dead meat in the crowd. It would be only a matter of time unless they saw him.


    The static of a speaker interrupted his thoughts and everyone in the crowd turned to face a small stage in the middle of the slaughter ground, which Faizan had failed to notice before. He saw there were a few big speakers set up there along with a small pedestal where a mic was placed. An aged man with a blazing red hennaed beard and wearing an immaculate white shalwar kameez was standing at the pedestal. He gently cleared his throat into the mic which sounded very familiar to Faizan. As the mullah spoke into the mic, Faizan realised it was the same voice he had seen coming from the masjid speakers set into the giant minaar.


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    ¡°Greetings, my fellow brothers! I hope all of you are enjoying this holy occasion of Eid. I have been making rounds of our village and the dedication I have seen from you has been nothing short of amazing. I bring glad tidings to all of you that God is very pleased with you. Congratulations!¡±


    Everyone in the crowd cheered and began to shout slogans out. Faizan did not follow along with them and instead began looking around for his friend but could not find them among the flurry of fists and arms that were being pumped into the air.


    ¡°You have done so well slaughtering the sinners, the pagans, and the witches. See how their flesh has been made delicious for you so that you may be rewarded with a feast for your hard work. Surely God is the greatest of them all!¡±


    They cheered even louder and Faizan was starting to get claustrophobic as he found himself being jostled in the crowd. Where the hell was Khalid?


    The maulvis tone suddenly changed and he quieted down. ¡°But there is one place where all of you have been lacking, and that is in dealing with the kids from the city.¡±


    Faizan felt his heart drop and froze in his place, making sure he could stay as incognito as he could. He stood no chance here without Khalid, who he hoped too was being careful about not being found out. Faizan felt that him being in the crowd while the maulvi talked to them about finding him was a terrible idea and he was shocked as to how he had found himself in the situation in the first place.


    The crowd quieted down as well and turned to look at the maulvi whose face was dead serious now. There was disappointment in his face.


    ¡°God has expectations of us and although he is merciful, we should not push our luck with it. We are among the blessed of his ranks and must do better. The people from the city must not be allowed to roam our streets freely lest they taint our lands with their poisonous free thinking and their technology.¡±


    The villagers had their heads lowered in shame now and he could hear some of them cursing themselves under their breath. He could hear some of them even hitting themselves nearby in a frenzy.


    ¡°Do not worry, however,¡± said the mullah and his voice rose again. ¡°For one of our very own has captured a man from the city. Bring him up!¡±


    He saw the men standing next to the maulvi instructing a nearby cage to be opened. The cage was so full of people that some of them were chained to each other. He could not make what was going inside until someone was pushed roughly out of it.

 Chapter 16

    Daniyal!


    Daniyal was still wearing the clothes he had been wearing when they had driven here but they were torn in various places. There were cuts and bruises all over his face and he was limping very badly as the maulvi¡¯s servants continued to push him towards the stage. There was panic etched onto his face as he was led to the stage and his face contorted, not being able to process all the villagemen cursing and throwing rocks at him. He even tripped on the steps a few times as he finally led to the stage. One of the men kicked him hard in the back of his legs and he fell to his knees groaning in pain.


    Faizan could not imagine how much shit his friend had had to go through and began to make his way forward to the crowd. He did not care if he was discovered now. He had to save his friend. He did not how he would but he had to try. He hoped Khalid had a plan because after all he was the one who had led them here.


    ¡°This heathen from the city was captured by someone none of us could have expected, but God is merciful and gives man many chances to redeem himself. He works in ways we cannot even fathom and all we can do is be in awe of him. Glory to God!¡±


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    The villagemen bellowed with him and Faizan felt their roar reverberate deep within his heart filling it with fear. He began to move ahead with more urgency, ignoring the men around him who curiously watched him. This is a bad idea. A very bad idea! The thought kept playing in his head but he had no choice. He had to save Daniyal.


    ¡°Come up to the stage, Khalid. Come and fulfill your destiny!¡±


    Huh?


    Faizan spotted Khalid as the crowd a few metres ahead of it parted to make way for him as he walked up to the stage. He walked with his head up high through the blood-soaked ground. Daniyal who had been keeping his head down the whole time looked up to see his friend. Instead of relief forming on his face he saw his face turn red with anger.


    ¡°Traitor! You fucking traitor! How could you fucking do this to me?!¡± he bellowed as Khalid walked up to him. One of the captors guarding him smacked him hard across the face but he kept going, taking blow by blow, his screams turning more and more psychotic. ¡°You were our friend but you betrayed us! Betrayed us for these fucking savages! Fuck you! After everything we did for you!¡±


    Faizan was starting to sense something was terribly wrong. Why was he cursing at Khalid when he was trying to help? Maybe all the beatings he had taken had turned him mad? But then, Faizan looked at Khalid who seemed unfazed by what was happening and curiously, it looked like he was grinning. Why were the people treating him like he was one of their own? It made sense he had tricked them before but not to this extent. But then again, what if he had tricked them somehow. The village men after all did seem like savages and easily manipulatable as long as religion and culture was involved. Deep down in his heart, Faizan knew the answers to these questions but would not accept it. It simply could not be.


    Right?

 Chapter 17

    Khalid walked up the stage and was greeted with hugs by everyone present there. The mullah even kissed him on his cheeks when he came up next to him. Khalid looked honoured when he was received by them. Faizan was amazed how convincing he looked.


    ¡°This man was a brother to you, but a brother in sin. I am very happy that our message has reached you and illuminated the light of God that was within you all along but one you never reached out to until today. You have given this sinner up for God and he now gives you a chance to redeem yourself and be born anew. You know what to do,¡± the maulvi said and handed over something that glinted in the light of the fires.


    It was a knife.


    ¡°Noooo!¡± yelled Faizan, unable to contain himself and began to push everyone aside. The villagers who had started to become suspicious of him began to push past and tried to catch him. They were unable to get a proper grip on him because of the sheer amount of chaos in the crowd. Faizan was almost to the front.


    Khalid took the knife from him, bowing his head with respect and made his way to Daniyal whose teeth were gritted from anger as he looked up at his friend. Khalid grabbed Daniyal¡¯s long hair forcefully and pulled back his head, still smiling.


    ¡°Khalid, what the fuck are you doing?!¡± screamed Faizan from on top of the noise, and now a wider radius of the crowd had noticed him and were beginning to realise who he was. Shouts of city boy, sinner and heathen started to travel all around the crowd and they all began to make a grab for him. A few of them managed to grab him and drop but they could not follow up as the villagemen battled with one another, wanting to obtain the credit and reward for capturing him.


    Khalid raised the knife into the air and it glinted once more before he brought it down next to Daniyal¡¯s neck. The anger in Daniyal¡¯s face had now been replaced with fear and his body shook. He spotted Faizan who was now at the front of the crowd desperately trying to reach him


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    ¡°Run Faizan Run!¡± He screamed. ¡°This bastard Khalid has betrayed us! Save yourself!¡±


    ¡°No, please!¡± screamed Faizan. He was almost at the stage now. Just a few more feet and he could stop Khalid. He was so close ¡°Stop! Why are you doing this?¡±


    Khalid was looking Faizan right in the eyes and had a satisfied grin on his face. Daniyal was continuing to shout at him to get away from him and save the others.


    ¡°I¡¯m doing this for God, who you have all abandoned,¡± he replied. He began to chant the religious incantation before a slaughter and slid it across Daniyal¡¯s throat, who¡¯s shouting turned into sick gurgles as blood gushed out. Faizan let out a cry of lament as Khalid let go of Daniyal¡¯s limp, twitching body. He had just reached the foot of the stage where part of his body hung off, his head barely clinging on to his neck by some skin and muscle. Faizan hoisted the head up to the neck while holding onto his friend, the blood gushing all over him, but he didn¡¯t care. All he wanted to do was save his friend at that moment.


    ¡°Daniyal! Daniyal!¡± he cried. ¡°Daniyal, can you hear me, please!¡±


    Daniyal¡¯s eyes were circling all around the sockets, a sick gurgling coming from his mouth from which his spit and blood flowed out. Eventually, his body came to a stand still right in Faizan¡¯s arms who wept uncontrollably looking into his empty dead eyes.


    He did not pay any attention to the crowd of people, who had now been brought under control by the maulvi¡¯s servants, capturing him. He did not pay attention as his hands were promptly tied behind his back with a thick rope. He did not pay attention to the blows they gave him and the slurs and rocks they threw at him. He did not pay attention as he was being pushed towards the stage. All he could think of was his dead friend, dying in his arms.


    And how he had failed to save him.


    And how he had been betrayed by Khalid.


    He looked up to see Khalid standing a few feet away from him, wiping the blade on the sleeve of his shalwar while everyone congratulated him. The maulvi kissed him on his cheeks again and roared into the mic, declaring him part of their brotherhood, but Faizan could not hear him. His ears were whistling and the speech was merely background noise for him.


    Khalid was still grinning when their eyes met again.


    ¡°Why? Why did you do this?¡± Faizan asked quietly. All the fight in his body had gone. His brain was beginning to shut down lest it end up breaking down. This was too much horror, too much suffering, too much failure for him to handle. He would rather die here and now then face any more of it. He could see himself being led to the spot where Daniyal had died.


    He knew he would be soon joining him.


    He was ready.

 Chapter 18

    Faizan.


    Huh? He had just heard a faint whisper in his head, even among all the commotion. Someone had called him by his name.


    Faizan. The voice repeated, this time in a louder whisper. He recognised the voice. A voice that calmed the storm of fear and anxiety inside him.


    Hina?


    Yes, it¡¯s me.


    How the hell can I hear you? Was she going insane? Had he finally broken.


    Listen to me, we don¡¯t have much time. You are the vessel. His vessel. There is great strength within you.


    There is no strength inside me. I am weak. I couldn''t even save Daniyal and now they''re going to kill me. Please save yourself.


    Faizan, listen to me. We will lend you our strength so that you can tap into the power inside you. You are the vessel and we look forward to meeting you. You must run towards the fields as fast as you can. There you will find us. I know you can sense our aura.


    Who the hell is we? was what Faizan was wondering but he decided the question was not important. He was just about to reach the bottom of the stairs, his body hurting all over. He could feel blood dripping down his face and limbs but he didn¡¯t care. All he knew was that Hina was alive and that was all that mattered. Maybe he could save her at least.


    Prepare yourself. You will only have a window of opportunity to escape. Use it wisely.


    But how will I know?


    Trust me, you will know.


    He felt the connection sever between them before he say anything else. He was right at the top of the stairs now and Khalid had come up to grab him as well. Faizan felt an anger like he had never felt before when he saw his grinning face. He wanted to gather all the energy inside him and punch his face in. Khalid saw the wrath on his face and grabbed him forcefully by the hair, the pain his scalping pissing him off even more. Faizan began muttering all sorts of insults at him while he was led to the front of the stage.


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    "Good work, my son," said the maulvi to Khalid as he was led by Khalid to the front of the stage. The old man picked up the mic and announced it to the crowd. "He has captured not one but two of the men from the city. Their brains and strength are now gone all thanks to him. He shall be our general when we wage war against the rest of the world and purify it."


    The crowd cheered and began chanting Khalid''s name who was beaming with pride. Faizan spit on his feet which earned him a blow in the back that made his back crunch.


    Khalid proceeded to then kick him in the back of his legs to make him kneel down at the front of the stage. He realised that Daniyals body was nowhere to be seen and yet his shalwar soaked his blood onto his knees.


    He was horrified when he turned to look towards a nearby commotion. He saw that the savages had already begun to cut the body up and cook it. He recognised the clothes next to the half skinned naked body of Daniyal near a huge bonfire where some of his flesh was being barbecued. Faizan''s body was shaking now with horror and disgust. How fucking dare they.


    "I wonder what he tastes like," said Khalid. "I''m guessing he probably tastes like filth. Oh look they''re bringing me some of it now. Would you like to try it too?"


    A tray of the cooked meat was brought up to him and he grabbed a piece of the meat, with a brown shimmering surface with charred bits. He dangled it in front of Faizan''s nose who gagged at the smell.


    "Oh, you don''t want to eat it? Come on now, we made this just for you. Wasting food is a terrible sin after all. We don''t want you to become a bigger sinner than you already are."


    "Very well said, son," commented the maulvi standing behind him. He patter him on the back. "My servants, please, assist your general."


    The servants obliged and crouched next to Faizan on either side, grabbing his head as Khalid walked in front of him. Another one pressed onto his shoulders so he could not move. The cooked piece of Daniyall''s meat was held in his hand with purpose. He nodded at the servants.


    "Don''t you fucking-" Faizan was cut off when the servants pried open his mouth, holding on two both of his jaws on either side with brute strength. He began wrestling against their dirty hands, trying to bite down on their fingers, but their grip was too strong. He tried to shake them off by wiggling his body but the servant behind was just as strong.


    Khalid slowly lowered the piece of meat into Faizan''s mouth, savouring the fear and helplessness he saw in his eyes. Faizan fought more and more desperately, strange animal-like sounds coming from his open mouth until eventually, Khalid shoved it into his mouth. He immediately spat it out before they could close his mouth which earned him a few hard punches from their burly fists. His tongue had, however, registered the taste and he was beginning to gag. He would wash his mouth with acid just so he could get the meaty taste of his friend out of his mouth. Even though the meat tasted like any other meat the thought it was Daniyal¡¯s made it unbearable.


    Khalid crouched down and picked up the meat, the servants holding his mouth open so forcefully he thought the muscles in his jaws would tear. This time they closed his jaw quickly as the meat was put into his mouth, which was intermixed with Daniyal¡¯s congealed blood and dirt. Faizan gagged and felt acidic barf rising up and burning his throat. He had no way of puking it out because the servants had his jaw clamped shut and his nose too so that he had no choice but to swallow the meat. He could taste the spices on the surface of the meat and the tender fat on it and his mouth was now full of barf. He was trying his best to resist swallowing the meat but he was running out of oxygen. Don¡¯t swallow it. Don¡¯t swallow it. Don¡¯t swallow it.


    Don¡¯t...

 Chapter 19

    He gulped.


    He ended up swallowing the barf and the meat, all in one go. His mouth was now fighting against their hands for dear life and they let go finally when they were satisfied he would not throw up.


    He fell forward face front onto the ground, taking deep breaths and his lungs clawed for air. His forehead was lying in Daniyal¡¯s sticky congealed blood and the smell of the blood was revolting but all he could think of was breathing first. When he had taken his fill of oxygen, he felt someone clasp onto his hair and pull him up with it. It was Khalid and he had something glinting in his hand next to his head. It was the knife glinting from the fires burning all around them.


    ¡°I¡¯ve wanted to do this to you for a long time,¡± he said. ¡°The sins that you have committed, especially with that whore blasphemer Hina. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll give you a quick death but your girlfriend on the other hand, I¡¯m going to make sure she begs me for it.¡±


    Faizan felt an anger unlike anything he had ever felt and his teeth gritted as he fought against the knots around his wrists.


    ¡°I¡¯ll kill you!¡± he began screaming. ¡°I¡¯ll fucking kill you. I¡¯ll send you up to that fucking precious god of yours.¡±


    Everyone in the area gasped and the maulvi began to chant incantations asking God for forgiveness. It had hit a nerve with Khalid who looked outraged. He pulled back Faizan¡¯s hair revealing his neck to him. He placed the knife on his neck, and a small cut had already formed because of how sharp it was.


    ¡°How dare you insult him like this?! How dare you insult the God who created you? Just you wait until he burns you in the pits of Hell.¡±


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    Faizan was still cursing frantically, the energy building up inside him until he felt the surge of the unholy energy suddenly flow through his body again. He heard a voice, Hina¡¯s beautiful voice, yell loudly in his brain.


    Now sisters! Lend us your strength to the vessel so that the coven may be saved!


    The energy continued to rise within him until everything was moving in slow motion for him. He could sense Khalid¡¯s arm muscles slowly tensing as he began to slide the knife against his throat. His mouth was moving too as he prepared to say the holy words before slaughter.


    He realised the source of the energy came from behind him towards the right. He turned his neck towards it and saw that it was the witches tied to the piers, no longer under attack by their captors who had been distracted by the commotion he had caused. Their aura was starting to glow more prominently and he felt himself being filled with unfathomable energy. He felt the energy lift his spirits and give him purpose, until he realised he felt something deep within his soul.


    It was like a portal.


    He guided all the energy inside him towards the portal, which felt like it had always been part of his body. The portal swallowed the energy, slowly opening up more and more until it burst open.


    Faizan roared.


    The energy he now felt was unlike anything he had experienced before. He felt like a God as it flowed through his veins and his muscles, hardening and strengthening them.


    You have found your strength, vessel.


    Thank you, Hina.


    Now free yourselves and save us all.


    Anything for you, my darling.


    Real time returned and Faizan felt the knife slash against his neck, so fast that all he saw was the glint of it. All the villagemen cheered as they saw the general slay the sinner from the city.


    But Faizan felt nothing.


    The cheering died down just as quick when they realised that he was fine. Khalid bent over to look at Faizan¡¯s neck and saw that it was unscathed. He was furious.


    ¡°What kind of magic is this?¡± asked Khalid, his voice stuttering a bit. He was embarrassed by his failure to commit a simple slaughter. He began to slash the neck again and again, forgetting to say the holy words but no damage was being done. Some of the villagemen, who had been jealous of his appointment as general, were now laughing at him and whispering among themselves.


    Can¡¯t even do a simple thing like cut someone¡¯s neck.


    I¡¯ve slaughtered hundreds of people like this.


    He¡¯s weak because he¡¯s from the city.


    How is he going to lead us in the war?

 Chapter 20

    Faizan felt the energy inside him still building up until it had filled up every inch of the vessel that was his body. He turned to look up at the minar of the masjid that had now penetrated the thick grey clouds. For the first time, he did not feel fear when he looked at it.


    He felt alive.


    He tapped into the energy and looked up at Khalid¡¯s red, embarrassed face. He was still slashing at his throat but the knife refused to penetrate. Faizan smiled.


    And then let loose all the energy inside him.


    The sky thundered as he tore apart the bonds holding his back, as if they were made from flimsy rubber bands. Khalid was thrown back and fell onto his back, his eyes still wide with shock. The mullah standing nearby had realised something was wrong and was now hurrying away with his servants towards a nearby alleyway. Towards the end of the lane he could see the dark blue metal exterior of something, which he realised was their car. He wanted to run towards it but a voice inside his head calmed him down, assuring him that no one would run away. The voice sounded like it was the owner of the energy that had taken over him.


    Are you God? He asked.


    No. I may be cruel, but I am not God.


    Everyone¡¯s attention had turned to the sky which the masjid minar had now pierced, sending waves of energy cascading all over the village. He realised now that minar was simply a marker to propagate the god-like power within him.


    And he was the Vessel.


    The closer he got, the more powerful the marker got.


    The dark power was everywhere, as abundant as oxygen, and Faizan could feel himself tapping into it with every breath. The masjid was still a ways away from him and yet, he felt so powerful that the sky now awaited his command.


    The dark power inside compelled him to answer.


    Do it.


    The sky thundered, so loud that all the villagemen clasped their hands around their ears. The clouds began to rapidly darken until they were as black as coal, Another loud thunder followed that sent long streaks of lightning all over the clouds, like veins, that ripped them apart.


    The clouds let loose.


    Screams of horror and pain followed.


    Porcupine quills were raining down from the sky, like archer arrows in a medieval movie, completely enveloping everyone''s vision. The quills were sharp as needles and were piercing deep into the village men''s bodies as they ran around and looked for shelter. Some of them fell on the spot, the quills jabbed through their necks and spinal cords while the rest limped or crawled on the floor, until a final quill ended them on the spot. They had completely forgotten about their festival and their God.


    But curiously, the quills did not affect Faizan in the least. They simply bounced off him, just like the knife had, as if they were an invincibility field around his body. The quills did not affect the witches tied to the piers either, who had broken through their bonds and were now attacking their captors or tending to their wounded sisters.


    He heard Khalid let out a shriek of pain and turned around to watch him roll down the stage before shuffling underneath it. Faizan stood up slowly on the stage, the dark energy flowing through him making him feel as if he was born anew. No longer did he feel fear or terror, all he felt now was power.


    He looked down at the chaos ensuing and laughed, a vengeful laugh. It was so satisfying to see them scurrying around like the cockroaches that they were and dying as death rained down on them in the thundering night.


    Where was their God now?


    And then the high began to falter and his consciousness came back. The fear returned along with a numbing guilt. How was he better than these people if he took pleasure in their deaths?


    The rain of quills stopped. The witches who had been taking their revenge stopped too and turned to look at him.


    Faizan, run. He heard Hina say. The sisters will guide you.


    Faizan did as he was told and followed the witches who were heading towards the direction of the fields. They had to run around and jump over quilled bleeding bodies, some of them still writhing as the life slowly drained from their bodies. He saw dead hollow faces with quills poking through them and his skin shivered at the sight of it. Some of the faces had so many quills that they literally looked like bloodied hunks of meat. The nightmare fuel just piled on and on for him.


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    Some of the villagers on the ground were not as injured and at times they would try to reach out and grab them, like zombies reaching out from their graves. The witches were ruthless, however, and would smash any man''s face who tried to do so.Faizan would merely just sidestep them.


    They were just about to cross the entire village square when they saw that some of the villagemen had begun to rally and had covered themselves in makeshift armour made with pots, sheets and other crude metal objects.


    The masjid speaker turned on in the distance and everyone turned towards the source of the static. It was the maulvi. He did not sound pleased.


    "The city boy and the witches have struck a blow onto us but God has stopped the rain. A lesson for us to not get caught up in glory and forget who he is. C''mon you believers, arm yourselves and stand up to them. Your Lord is watching!"


    Faizan and witches upper their speed as the villagemen began to chase them now. They were no longer guarded by the dark power that Faizan could feel sleeping in his gut and he wondered why it had happened. Perhaps he needed to have focused more but it was too late now, he had to focus on escaping.


    As they were about to exit the village square, they grabbed weapons from the stall that had been selling weapons for witch hunting. He was handed a long machete like weapon but what seemed to he the lead witch, a middle aged brown woman with creases on her face and slightly whitened hair. He heard the other witches address her as Laila.


    "Stay behind us," she said in clear Urdu. "We will protect you. Do not put yourself in danger, whatever happens."


    They were in the mazy village streets now and Faizan had no clue so he continued to follow the witches. The quills in their garbs were brightly visible to him, even in the shadows, and the tinkling sound they made as they shook from the movement was music to his ears. He could feel a faint rising of energy in his body which propelled him onwards. Many times they were flanked or attacked by villagemen from nearby shadows and houses, filthy curses spewing out of their mouths as they attacked. The witches were more than up to the task and defended themselves well with the weapons. He watches some of them chant spells as well as they did so, giving them temporary bursts of speed and strength. As they did so, he felt the power within him swirl around, realising that they were tapping into him for powers.


    Laila was at the forefront and Faizan was amazed by how well she fought. At one point, a group of men flanked them suddenly and the lead witch dropped her weapon, moving her hands about in a slow, small dance. The men laughed and approached her but to Faizan''s shock, he watched as  some of the quills that made most of her outfit were levitating in front of her.


    The men stopped.


    The quills were pointing right at them.


    She chanted the last spell with a roar and the quills flew ahead as fast as bullets, killing the men instantly, even through their armour. She rallied the rest of the witches around her and because of that, regardless of the sheer number of the men, their losses were kept to a minimum.


    Faizan was doing his best to try and help but his body would tense up when he wanted to, since he had never fought like this. On top of that, the witches guarding him did not let him get close to the action, pushing him back when the fighting started or pulling him towards them when they were running.


    They eventually reached a small, mud brick wall and jumped over it, corn stalks crushing beneath them as they landed on the ground. Faizan could not make out if the dark shapes he saw were corn stalks or his allies so he just followed the rustling and the women''s voices, hoping for the best. The corn stalks smacked against his face as he ran ahead making it difficult for him to have any sense of direction and occasionally, he''d have to be pushed or pulled into the right direction. The sky had cleared and the moon now stood at the end of the minaar as if balancing on its tip. It kept vanishing and reappearing, like a flickering lightbulb, through the rows of corn. Behind him, he could faintly hear the villagemen yelling curses or proclaiming prayers but could not make sense of how far they were because of the rustling.


    As they went deeper and deeper into the fields, Faizan''s soaring anxiety was beginning to play tricks on his mind. The rustling and the rapid movement of the corn had begun to settle into his brain and he was beginning to react to all of it as if it was a potential enemy.


    The masjid speaker turned on again, a shrill whistling temporarily shaking the inside of his skull before the maulvi spoke.


    "They have entered the fields, my brothers. The very fields that contain our sustenance and livelihood for the year. The very fields our forefathers have sowed and reaped for centuries. Capture the sinners before they have tainted the fields and removed God''s blessings from our food. And removed the future blessings for our fathers. Whoever does capture them, God will give him and his whole lineage a place in Paradise and he will have fields within it as far as his eye can see¡­"


    Faizan tuned out the maulvi, sick of the fantasies and lies he had been feeding the village men. He wondered if this was what his religion had really been. Fantasy and lies? Powerful men like the maulvi manipulating their followers by calling the magic they didn''t understand as God?


    His heart leapt out of his chest when someone loudly proclaimed ''Praise God!'' from the left and barraged into the group. He heard the sickening wet thunks of a blade smacking into flesh followed by the shrill screams of a witch. As he moved in closer, the curtain of corn unveiled and he saw a fallen torch illuminating a huge man with gritted yellowed out teeth slamming an axe into a writhing witch. With every swing of his axe, he became deliriously happy that God would bless him for killing a witch.


    Faizan stood staring at the scene but was pulled with surprising strength by one of the witches. She was about his age with short hair and angry eyes.


    "Vessel, do not stop running," she screamed into his ears. "Even if all of us die, you have to keep moving. Can¡¯t believe we¡¯re doing all this for a man."


    Faizan did as he was told and continued running forward, his body tensed and ready to react to any attack. The maniacal howling of the villagmen was now all around them once they had realised they were in the vicinity of their prey. A few more of the witches fell victim to the savages but Faizan continued running ahead, doing as he was told. He wasn''t going to die before he saw Hina again. He was going to give her the biggest hug the moment he saw her and never let go.


    The witches had now formed a circle around Faizan to protect him against the imminent danger. Laila was shouting instructions in Punjabi he couldn''t make out with all the noise. As more of the witches fell to the attacking villagers, the circle around him began to shorten and get closer.


    "We won''t make it at this rate, big sister," shouted a young witch.


    "Yes, we won''t," said Laila. "There is a way to slow them down but it will require sacrifice."


    The witch with the short hair on his left spoke, "Will it kill those assholes?"


    "Yes."


    "Then count me in," she replied. They stopped running and all of them turned around to look at Laila.


    "You are too young, Bano," she answered. "It is not fair."


    "What''s not fair is living in a world where men reign supreme over us. I would die if it meant a better world for my sisters."


    "But-"


    "We don''t have much time," she answered and swung around, thrusting the blade in her hands straight into the gut of an attacking villager.


    "Fine," Laila answered, guilt etched onto her face. "Who else?"


    All the witches volunteered but she ended up choosing the oldest two. She sent a few of the witches to guard them who began battling any of the villagers who stumbled upon them.


    "You know how the spell works, my sisters," she said, trying to keep a straight face but tears were streaming down her eyes. They nodded and quickly hugged her, assuring her that the sacrifice was worth it. Faizan did not know what sacrifice they were talking about but surmised that it involved the loss of lives. He did not know what else to do but stand awkwardly and look down at his feet. How was one to react when strangers he had never known before were sacrificing their lives for him? And on top of that, most of them were bitter about it. None of the witches had even turned to look at him and whenever they had, there had been disgust in their eyes. But he didn¡¯t care much, if it meant he would get to see Hina. He wondered if she had struck a deal with the witches and found some magic to communicate with him.


    What if she had realised his importance to her?

 Chapter 21

    The three witches chosen for the sacrifice walked away and stood in a row behind the rest of them who made a circle around him. Laila turned towards them and readied herself for the spell. Her body shook with hesitance.


    "Do it, sister," said the short-haired witch. "Do not think of this as a sacrifice. Think of it as a pleasure. What better death could one of us have if not in aid of the death of the patriarchy? Of the very men who fuel this patriarchy?"


    Laila steadied her hands.


    "Light us up, sister!" Bano continued, screaming with glee.


    Laila began to chant a spell in a quiet voice. Faizan could feel her tapping into the energy inside him. Whatever spell she was casting, was very powerful.


    "Let us be the fireworks for this great night! When the fall of the patriarchy begins!"


    Laila roared the last word of the spell and waved her hands in a curved motions towards the three witches. Faizan let out a soft moan as the energy rushed out of him and took the breath out of him.


    To Faizan''s shock, all of them lit up on fire and they screamed in pain.


    But there was also delight in their voice.


    They ran ahead, the one in the middle straight while the other two in a slanted curved motion and the fire on their bodies set the corn immediately on fire until their combined firetrails looked like the prongs of a devil''s fork. The villagemen, who had been closing in, were temporarily stunned but they still ran towards the flaming witches, like moths to the flame, eager to get their blessings by killing the witches themselves. Some of them even jumped onto the flaming bodies to tackle them until eventually, all of the witches had their flames covered by the bodies of villagemen crawling over them, like insects. He heard Bano screaming all sorts of filthy curses at them which encouraged more of them to attack her.


    The fire from the trails was spreading very rapidly but he still could not see why setting the witches on fire had been necessary.


    He got his answer when three huge explosions lit up the night sky, sparks flying out all over. The village men¡¯s screams of pain and surprise reverberated all around the fields. Trails of fire from the explosion shot out and made various random patterns, some of them trapping some of the men between them, barricading them until the flames would slowly envelop them.


    The villagemen were in disarray and had stopped following them. The witches relaxed their bodies a bit but a cloud of sadness hung over them as they looked towards the sparks that were slowly fading away. They stood and watched the blazing trails turn into a savage fire that enveloped the fields behind them. It was if the witches spirit was within the flames, rapidly going for any man they saw.


    ¡°Your sacrifice will never be forgotten, sisters. May you watch over us from the stars¡± Laila said in a quiet voice before she burst into tears. Most of the other witches wept too and consoled her while the rest hung their heads down in sorrow and respect. They offered quiet prayers and dedications to the martyrs.


    Faizan awkwardly stood alongside but he too had his head hung in sadness. He had great respect for the witches¡¯ sacrifice, and did not not care if Bano had been rude to him. Who could blame her after seeing the men in the village?


    There was guilt swarming his body and he tried to deal with it. Eventually he turned to Laila and offered a timid apology with a bowed head. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    Most of the witches around her shot looks of anger or indifference at him but Laila smiled. ¡°Do not worry, Faizan. Your presence helps us all and we know you are an ally.¡±


    ¡°I am at your service. If there¡¯s anything you need¡­¡±


    Laila wiped away her tears. ¡°For now, we need to get to the caves. We must get there fast before the men rally again. Who knows how long that will take.¡±


    And so they made their way ahead, quietly, silently pondering over the events that had taken place. Faizan could feel great respect for the martyrs in the silence and they moved ahead through the corn fields, the stalks now brushing against them more gently. The fire was now rising even higher behind them and to his left he could see the masjid minaar, although it looked more like a porcupine quill now. It had elongated and thickened so much that he could barely make out the tip of it until he focused really hard.


    Laila, who had been leading the group, slowly slowed down her pace until she was walking alongside Faizan. He could feel that the energy coming from the quills on her garbs was a lot more powerful than the others.


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    ¡°You must be very confused,¡± she said.


    ¡°This whole night had been very confusing,¡± he replied.


    ¡°You will get your answers soon. Great mistakes were made on this night and many lives were lost but this ultimately might lead to a victory we had never foreseen so early. Know that you hold a vital role in this effort of ours.¡±


    ¡°As the Vessel?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you are the Vessel. The dark god we serve chose you as the Vessel.¡±


    ¡°Why did he choose me?¡±


    ¡°Not he, she and we don¡¯t know. We simply follow her will.¡±


    ¡°Why do you serve her? What makes her so special?¡±


    ¡°She is an ethereal being that scours the galaxies, searching for worlds and constellations to collect on her magnificent quills. She is merciful and helps us rebel against God and makes us stronger against his apostles.¡±


    ¡°Many centuries ago, some of our ancestors made a connection with her and she provided us with great strength to fight the patriarchy. Unfortunately, we failed in our fight and the patriarchy prevailed stronger. This time, however, we have realised our mistakes. We realised that in order to win we must make allies with the men and that is what we were doing until¡­¡±


    ¡°Until what?¡±


    ¡°You will find out soon enough.¡±


    After about half an hour of walking through the fields, he saw a large blackness rising above them that made it seem as if the stars had been swallowed up. However, as they got closer he realised it was simply a small rocky hill. They exited the fields and found themselves on plain rocky ground that led to the side of the hill that stretched ahead to their sides. It was a dead end.


    At least, that¡¯s what he thought until Laila approached the solid walls of the hill by whispering some incantations. To his surprise, a cave opening appeared almost instantly. This time, however, his shock lasted mere seconds and he followed the witches through the dark cave that slowly began to fill up with orange light as they made their way ahead. After everything he had gone through, nothing was going to surprise him anymore, no matter how weird or grotesque.


    And yet, when he exited the rocky corridors into a cavernous chamber, he was in for a great shock.


    The chamber barely had any resemblance to the cave at all. There were all sorts of beautiful lanterns and lamps, some of them levitating, giving off various hues of colours filling the chamber with life, like fairy lights. The walls were covered with exotic fabrics that made the chamber look cozy and welcoming, and he saw various artworks on the wall. The cave chamber was teeming with witches, all of them wearing their own rendition of the porcupine quill garbs, engaged in various activities. He saw groups of them sitting on comfortable looking rugs, talking, resting, discussing, drinking and even... making out with each other? Faizan thought he was seeing things and had to rub his eyes to clear his vision.


    He wasn¡¯t wrong.


    Groups of them were entangled upon each other, like roots of a large tree, undressing each other, kissing and pleasuring each other in various ways. He felt himself going red at the sight and quickly turned away. How could they be thinking of such a thing when there was so much terror going on outside?


    Laila had seen him looking presumably because she stepped up next to him. ¡°War and terror often brings out many emotions in us,¡± she answered. ¡°Many of them may not ever see each other and so they do their best to make each other happy. It is often in stress when we need pleasure the most.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t they just get a room for that then?¡±


    ¡°Why? There is no shame in what they do. You only think it is because you have been taught that it is blasphemous.¡±


    Most of the others sat around a huge, almost life-like statue of a porcupine with huge quills that looked like giant spears. He had noticed it before but when he looked closely he saw that some of the quills bore through the bodies of hundreds of writhing men who groaned in pain as blood dripped down or along the quills down into a large, golden bowl that was filled with blood. He saw some of the witches enjoying the spectacle as they threw curses at the men and laughed at their misery.


    He even recognised one of the men impaled on the quills. And the witch in front of him shouting curses.


    It was Shikhar and Inaya.


    He could not see any resemblance of the sophistication he had seen on Shikhar, who had a look of frenzy on his face and he did not see the broken husk of a woman that Inaya had been after her mother had been killed. Shikhar looked at her with wide open eyes full of hatred as he grabbed onto the quill and pulled to free himself from it. All it did was make him bleed more and he groaned in pain. He kept trying to say something to Inaya but no words came out which seemed to satisfy her. It seemed to him as if she was taking out all of her hate on him. His shalwar was reddened with blood and it made Faizan wonder if the blood belonged to the witches. Was he actually a witch hunter?


    ¡°Yes, he is,¡± he heard a familiar voice answer in his head.


    Faizan looked towards the groups of witches that were engaged in orgies. He saw Hina sitting among them, standing out like a beacon of light. She wore porcupine garbs that reached down to her knees and dark makeup that made her look fiercely attractive. She was smiling at him, seemingly unaware of the witches fucking around her.


    Faizan ran towards the group to hug her hard. Oh my god, Hina. I thought you were dead. Thank god, you¡¯re alive! I almost didn¡¯t believe it¡­ His thoughts were racing but were interrupted when was held back forcefully by a group of witches. Their arms dug into his ribs pushing the wind out of him a little. The pain that flared inside him made him angry and so he tried to push past them. In response, they grabbed on to his body.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?!¡± he asked. ¡°Hina! What are they doing? Let me go to her!¡±


    She was looking down awkwardly at her bare feet, as if she felt uncomfortable. Every witch in the chamber had stopped talking and was looking at him. He didn¡¯t care. All he was focused on were her beautiful eyes. He wanted to kiss her.


    But she didn¡¯t seem fazed at all. In fact, he could sense her getting even more uncomfortable. Something was wrong.


    ¡°Hina, what happened? Don¡¯t you love me anymore?¡± he shouted


    ¡°She never did,¡± he heard another familiar voice from near Hina and turned to see Aleena appear out of the writhing bodies in the orgy. She was wearing the same quill clothing except part of it had been unlatched from her shoulders and a wet, glistening breast was poking out of it. Her hair was all over her face. He felt relieved to see that she was alive and well but his heart dropped at what she had said.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asked.


    Aleena turned to Hina who smiled and swept the hair out of her face gently. Aleena in response pulled onto the quills on her garb into her body and they kissed hungrily.


    Faizan felt a bomb explode inside of him, tearing his heartstrings apart, as he watched them press their bodies into each other. He saw Aleena looking at him through the corner of her eye, savouring his reaction until she closed her eyes and moaned when Hina began playing with her nipples.. By the end of it they were both giggling, and Aleena¡¯s hair had fallen in front of her eyes again like it always did. Hina lifted her hand and gently swept the hair away to the side.


    There were so many feelings pulling away at his broken heart. Sadness, disbelief, anger, betrayal, all filled up his body and he knew he would¡¯ve broken down there and then if not for the reassuring dark power that was flowing through him. He wasn¡¯t sure how long it would help him stay stable. It was too much for him to accept.


    He didn¡¯t get much time to process it either when he felt a needle jab into his arm and felt a warm liquid seep into his veins, putting him to sleep. He turned around to see that it was Laila who had a warm expression on her face. There was also pity in her eyes as she gently lowered his body. He welcomed the feeling of the liquid and her soft motherly touch, letting it kill all the frenzy in his head. Everything went black.

 Chapter 22

    He was floating in space for what felt like eons. He stared at the stars and galaxies that shone in the endless backness, mesmerised by the beauty of it. He wished he could float there forever. His worries seemed so small in the vastness of space. A movement out of the corner of his eye forced him to become aware of his situation and his stomach somersaulted when he realised.


    He was floating in space.


    He turned to look at the shape and knew instantly who it was courtesy of the surge of energy inside him.


    It was the porcupine goddess. The goddess that the witches served. He had seen her before in fragmented dreams but this time it was different. This time it felt real.


    Her sheer magnificence made his knees quake and he would¡¯ve fallen down to his knees if there was any ground to fall onto.


    She was giant in size and very much resembled a porcupine in her form. However, the blackness of her quills was the blackest black he had ever seen. If you managed to distill the blackness of tar a thousand times, you still would not manage to obtain the darkness that swirled around the quills. The white parts of her quills glowed silver, putting the moon¡¯s light to shame. At the tips of the billions of quills on her bodies, he saw various colourful forms that made her seem like a galaxy herself. There were planets, moons and entire galaxies pinned onto her quills from which he could hear the wailing of men of different species. The wails did not break his eardrums and he suspected it was because she had muted the sounds for him.


    ¡°Ah, we finally meet Vessel. Face to face that is,¡± she said in a powerful voice that seemed to come out of her whole form. The mouth on the small (relative to her size) beady-eyed head did not move as she spoke.


    Faizan tried to move his mouth but no words came out.


    ¡°Speak, Vessel. Don¡¯t be afraid. You are a man but it does not mean you can¡¯t speak to me. I chose you as a Vessel which means you are worthy.¡±


    Faizan tried to speak and this time managed to do so after having his voice crack quite a bit. ¡°Who¡­ who are you?¡±


    ¡°It is hard to explain who I am, especially to humans who are not equipped for understanding most of the universe. I am what you could call an ethereal being that scours the galaxies, searching for worlds and constellations where patriarchies still exist. I was one of the first after Satan to rebel against God and to protect myself from the male abominations that are all over the galaxy, who mount themselves on any female form they saw, I grew spikes that protected me. Many creatures were skewered onto my spikes until eventually they all gave up, including God. I have spilled a lot of blood and empowered females to protect themselves. I did so with the Amazonians and where I failed¡­¡± She did not make any movement but he detected her gesturing towards her quills.  ¡°...I amassed quite a collection where men suffer more than any hell that God has made for men.¡±


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    It was a lot of information for Faizan to process but he went on. ¡°Why am I¡­ the Vessel?¡±


    ¡°You were made the Vessel after I learned a very important lesson. Your world, Earth, is primitive which also makes the men on it extremely stubborn. Their ego prevents them from giving up their tyranny of the females of the Earth. I have tried very hard to empower the women on Earth but they were defeated and weakened significantly. I was about to make it part of my collection when I decided to make one more attempt. It is during this attempt that I realised that in order for the women to succeed on your planet, they need to ally with the few good men that are left.¡±


    ¡°You think I¡¯m a good man?¡±


    The goddess laughed. A booming laugh that filled him with dread. ¡°Did that stroke your ego that much? You don¡¯t need to deny it, Vessel, you are a man after all. But yes, a good one compared to most. I have seen deep into your heart and seen that even in a lack of accountability, you would not become an animal.¡±


    Faizan felt himself greatly appreciating her words. He felt a strange reverence to her, as if he accepted her as his goddess. The energy that filled him up was very calming and healing. He felt like he could take on the world with it flowing through him.


    ¡°I have also seen great love in your heart for someone. Someone who just broke your heart.¡±


    Faizan felt his heartstrings clench at the reminder. However, just as the pain invaded his entire body, it was replaced with the healing dark energy of the goddess. She had moved in closer and he could feel her soft touch on him. It felt just like Laila¡¯s comforting hand had on his face.


    ¡°Laila is a great woman,¡± commented the goddess. ¡°In many ways, she is just like me. It is why she has replaced that misled leader they had before. The one who gave into the patriarchy because of that foul bearded man.¡±


    Faizan felt his curiosity peak at that. Had someone actually loved that asshole maulvi?


    ¡°Yes, she did,¡± sighed the goddess. ¡°She was groomed by him from a young age which corrupted her mind. She was strong and resisted however much she could but eventually she gave in. She gave the maulvi the cursed quills so he could be the one to become part of the religious zealots that uphold the patriarchy. He did it for his own gain and she helped him. In return, he slit her throat and began the witch hunt for my daughters.¡±


    ¡°But I took this senseless tragedy as an opportunity to begin another war. This is why I had you become a Vessel. I sensed the goodness in you the moment you touched that golden statue of me.¡±


    Faizan remembered the golden statue that he had seen in the dining room of the landlord¡¯s house.


    ¡°I knew then and there that you would be useful for me, and so I began to shape your destiny.¡±


    ¡°Shape my destiny?¡± Faizan blurted out when the realisation occurred to him. ¡°Were you the one who made Hina get over me and.. and¡­ become a lesbian?¡±


    ¡°Not at all. It is true that I had a hand in her showing her true colours but I never made her one. Remember, the cursed quills bring out our inner desires. It brings out men¡¯s desire for destruction and dominance, and brings out women¡¯s desire to break the shackles of that dominance, that much you have seen. But it also brings out personal desires, which in the case of Hina and Aleena, were their desire for each other.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t she tell me then?!¡± Faizan demanded, fearful of raising his voice but doing so anyway. He hoped the goddess would not let the soft touch go away. She didn¡¯t. ¡°Why did she lead me on? She was inside my head!¡±


    ¡°It was never her intention, Vessel. I instructed her to do so by creating that connection with her and don¡¯t worry, I have broken it. She did love you in her own way, it was just more platonic than what she thought. And by the time she realised, it was too late. For her and for Aleena. So, they decided to bury it deep within and get on with their life.¡±

 Chapter 23

    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because of the patriarchy, of course!¡± answered the goddess. ¡°It is always the woman who compromises my dear Vessel. Always.¡±


    Faizan did not know what to say. He was starting to feel guilt among all the heartbreak now.


    ¡°Listen to me, Vessel. I know you are upset and you don¡¯t have to forgive her just now, but you have to know that there are greater things at stake right now. Don¡¯t you love her?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I do!¡±


    ¡°Then protect her. Fight for her. For all the witches. For womankind. For me. Come join me in our fight for a better world. A better world where the abominations you have seen occur will never happen again.¡±


    Faizan wanted to agree to it but there was one question that was digging deep at his core. He was too scared to ask, however. He felt her gentle touch caress him again.


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    ¡°I know what you want to ask, Vessel. You don¡¯t have to hesitate. You are one of us now. Speak freely.¡±


    Faizan gulped. ¡°Wasn¡¯t it you who caused all the blood shed outside anyways? It was your quills that did it.¡±


    He expected her to get mad but her caress did not go away. Instead, he could feel her smile and it filled him with warmth. ¡°I am glad to see that you are keeping me accountable. That is very important, Vessel. Never lose it. As for your answer, it is quite simple. I made a mistake.¡±


    Faizan did a double take at that and he felt her nod at him. Again, the porcupine did not make any movement. ¡°Yes, Vessel, I made a mistake. The previous leader of the Sey witches, her name was Noor. She conspired with me to create quills so that we could empower the women of the village so that they would run away and join us. But I was foolish. I did not realise he was lying to me. You already know what happened next.¡±


    Faizan sighed. ¡°And you want me to stop it?¡±


    ¡°Do not be arrogant, Vessel,¡± he heard her tone become stern and yet, her caress still did not go away. ¡°You can stop it because I empowered you to do so. By making a man a Vessel, the witches will be forced to accept you and unlearn the hatefulness that I have filled them up with. Hate for men is understandable but not to an extent that it clouds their judgement.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°Will you do it?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yes, I will.¡± he answered without a shred of doubt. He knew this was his purpose now. In a sense, all the horror and terror he had gone through was to harden him for this task. He did not hold everything he had gone through against her now. Her healing energy was helping him unlearn all the terror and keep the lessons that they had taught him. He had seen how vile and inhumane men could become. He wouldn¡¯t have understood it to this extent otherwise.

 Chapter 24

    ¡°Excellent,¡± she replied, showering him with more warmth that made him want to cry with joy. ¡°Make us proud.¡±


    Faizan could see her moving further away, until he realised it was him who was being pulled back. No doubt back to Earth.


    ¡°Wait!¡± he shouted. The movement didn¡¯t slow down. ¡°I never got your name.¡±


    ¡°It is best I do not tell you my name. My name cannot be uttered or understood by mortals. And it is far too long for you to be able to retain. Good luck, Vessel.¡±


    And just like that the movement escalated until he was covering light years of distances in seconds. The movement got faster and faster until all he saw was white, which was quickly replaced by the vivid colours of the cave chamber as he returned to his body.


    He gasped for air.


    His sudden return to his body had knocked the wind out of him and he sat up gasping for breath. He could still feel the soft caress on his body as he sat up and turned to see Laila¡¯s bloody hand. She was smiling at him and he realised that the blood on her hand was from the large golden bowl he had seen in front of the statue. She was dipping her hand into the bowl and rubbing the metallic-smelling blood onto his naked body. He realised he was lying in front of it as all the witches in the cave chanted a spell in front of him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Faizan,¡± she said, putting a reassuring hand on his naked shoulder.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± he asked, conscious of all the witches staring at him. He could still feel the goddess¡¯s dark energy flowing through him.


    ¡°We are equipping you as the goddess wished. So that you can finish the horror outside once and for all.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see, Faizan.¡±


    He realised that she was the first witch to call him Faizan and not Vessel. It felt strangely reassuring. He felt less like a tool that they were using and more humane. He smiled at her.


    ¡°The spell is complete,¡± she informed him. She gestured for him to stand up and he did so in front of the whole crowd of witches. He did not feel any shame being naked in front of him. Why should he if this was the will of the goddess?


    ¡°You won¡¯t have to stay naked for long,¡± said Laila. Could she look into his mind as well? ¡°But do not wear any clothes until you have finished things. They will end up getting torn.¡±


    Faizan had no idea what that meant but he nodded. ¡°What now?¡±


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    ¡°We will make preparations to migrate. You go first so you can clear a path for us.¡±


    Faizan felt he was invincible with the energy that flowed through him and so he nodded. He looked down at his sweaty, naked body and how the blood had been painted all over his body in spots. He wondered what they meant.


    ¡°It will be done,¡± he answered.


    Laila nodded and the witches moved aside as he made his way towards the entrance. He searched for Hina among the crowd and spotted Inaya in the crowd. He could not bear to look at her until he saw that she was not avoiding his gaze. Instead, she smiled as if assuring him that everything that had happened was not his fault. He hoped the goddess was providing her with her energy too so that she could feel just as safe as he did.


    Eventually he spotted Hina towards his right, sitting next to Aleena. There was guilt etched on his ex-girlfriend¡¯s face who tried to give him a reassuring smile. Faizan tried to speak to her through his thoughts but remembered the goddess had severed the connection. He wondered if this would be the last time he would see her.


    He knew the answer.


    He would.


    He was invincible.


    He walked through the corridors that led to the entrance until he was approaching the seemingly dead end of a rocky wall. He wondered if he had to chant any spell for it to open but to his relief, it vanished just as he walked up to it. He was expecting to see empty fields and darkness.


    Instead he saw fire and an army.


    The villagemen were gathered in droves all around the cave entrance, holding fire torches and weapons in their hands. They were covered in various forms of makeshift armour made from whatever they could get their hands on; metal pots, metal sheets and even wood. It seemed all the men in the village had gathered in front of the cave to fight him. He could hear the maulvi speaking from the masjid speaker rallying them with religious incantations that he spoke with such force that it made his voice crack. The masjid minaar was deep into the clouds, looking like a giant porcupine spike.


    The goddess¡¯s vision had almost begun.


    ¡°We have found the witches¡¯ cave. It is time to end them, my brothers! It is time to end this eid with a great victory for our religion. Are you ready to take your place in heaven?¡±


    They all shouted yes with him and began chanting furiously. Faizan was unfazed by everything that was happening. The goddess¡¯s power inside him was numbing any form of fear and anxiety inside him. He stood with his arms to the side, unmoving.


    ¡°I am being informed the whores have sent their slave, the boy from the city. They have misled him and seduced him with their magic no doubt. Do not become one of him! Pray so that you may not be misguided by the devil. God has a special place for the city boy. Kill him so that his soul goes to your Lord!¡±


    The army of villagemen charged at him and Faizan readied himself for their onslaught. He was caught off guard when he heard a frenzied scream from behind him from above. He looked around just in time to find a figure jump down onto him and throw him to the ground. Faizan stayed perfectly still as the figure began slamming down a large blade into him that bounced off the invincible skin on his chest. He didn''t even raise his hands up to protect himself as Khalid shouted obscenities at him and continued to bring the blade down with force.


    One of his eyes was completely gone and covered in a crude looking cloth that had become bloodied, no doubt from the quill rain that he had caused.


    ¡°You fucking heretic!¡± he shouted, spittle falling out his mouth. ¡°You joined the witches? You fucking asshole! You¡¯re covered in our brothers¡¯ blood for their spells? Just you wait until I fuck that whore of a girlfriend you blindly followed here. How dare you!¡±


    Faizan quietly got up to his feet and Khalid slid off his naked body. He tried to hold him down but he was nowhere near strong enough. Neither were the villagemen who had reached him now and were wildly swinging at him while holding onto him. Their weapons didn¡¯t do anything.


    Khalid got up on his feet shakily and screamed at them to stop attacking him. ¡°He¡¯s mine! It is my right to end him.¡±


    Khalid looked up at Faizan while some of the villagemen held onto him. He made no attempt to fight them as the villagemen¡¯s general, and his ex friend put the blade on the edge of his neck.


    ¡°Your soul is going to burn in hell, you heretic. You son of a whore. Just you wait.¡±


    For the first time, Faizan spoke up. ¡°I look forward to meeting him. Why don¡¯t I make sure you meet him too?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Faizan reached into the energy inside him.


    His body began to tremble as he felt the transformation take place. Khalid and the villagemen froze as they watched Faizan¡¯s shaking body, horrified as they watched it grow and hunch over. His skin was turning jet black and tough, while his front teeth began to enlarge and sharpen, like a butcher¡¯s knife. They began to walk back slowly until Faizan stopped trembling and looked up with his dark, beady eyes that sent dread through their bodies.


    He smiled.


    And let all the energy out.

 Chapter 25

    Giant porcupine quills exploded out of his body, tearing out of his skin everywhere. They skewered everyone in their range and he took satisfaction in their sickening gurgling. The makeshift armour they were wearing did nothing to protect them.


    He took special pleasure in watching a spike tear through Khalid¡¯s abdomen, whose whole body tensed as it penetrated him. There was horror frozen on his face. Faizan immediately retreated his quills and grabbed him by the collar of the shalwar kameez poking out from his armour as the deal villagemen fell to the ground, blood pooling in the dirt. The rest of the villagemen began to retreat away from him from the porcupine-human hybrid that stood in front of them.


    Khalid¡¯s body had gone limp but Faizan could see signs of life on his ex friend¡¯s convoluted face. Life was quickly slipping out of him.


    ¡°All your brothers are going to die on this day! And one day, my goddess is going to end your precious God. This is just the start. Watch!¡±


    Faizan turned him around and made him face the retreating army. He reached into the power inside and turned his head towards the masjid minaar. When it had pent up inside him, he released it and blackened clouds suddenly formed around it. A great thunder roared from the sky.


    Porcupine quills rained down from the sky onto the retreating villagemen. This time they fell with such power and speed that it even tore through the armour that they were wearing. Faizan held his giant head over Khalid to protect him from death as he watched the army fall down like dominoes. Their screams filled the fields and the air trembled with it. He could feel Khalid¡¯s breath catching inside him and he knew that it was out of fear. He had felt that fear once.


    Never again.


    ¡°Look at your brothers returning to the dirt like they¡¯re nothing while my goddess reigns supreme above us!¡± He pointed Khalid towards the masjid minaar.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ your¡­ God¡­?¡± Khalid croaked as blood flowed down his mouth. He was choking on it.


    ¡°Our goddess, yes,¡± Faizan said. He took his other hand and placed it on the back of Khalid¡¯s neck. He pressed hard and felt his old friend¡¯s neck get crushed underneath the force of his giant fist. He let go and Khalid dropped down to the ground, porcupine quills stabbing relentlessly into his lifeless body.


    Faizan turned towards the masjid minaar. The maulvi had stopped talking into the masjid speaker.


    It was time to end this.


    He began running towards the masjid in great bounding leaps eventually falling onto his hands and running on all four legs. He was moving faster than a car as he leaped forward, the dirt and corpses of his enemies being crushed as the quill rain bounced off him. There was no rush, he knew the rain would ensure that the maulvi didn¡¯t escape.


    But he wanted to finish this as quickly as possible.


    For his goddess¡¯s satisfaction and for the safety of the witches.


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    The outline of the masjid came into his view and normally, he was barely able to make it out with his normal vision. But its aura shone as bright as a spotlight in his eyes.


    He slowed down as he reached the masjid entrance and stood up on his legs. There was a small sunroof on the other side of the dirt road across the masjid. He saw the car safely snug underneath it. He walked up to the masjid door that had pretty engravings in its wood. He pushed it with his giant hand and the metal bolt snapped and the wooden door fell inside.


    He saw the maulvi huddled into the small niche at the front of the mosque where he would normally lead prayer. There were two burly men next to him who were cowering in fear too. He had seen them on the stage next to him when he was being executed. They had been with him when they had run to the car during the first quill rain too.


    Faizan walked slowly towards the front of the mosque, the soft carpeted floor grazing against his giant furry feet. There was a satisfied smirk on his face as he did so, watching as their eyes grew wider with fear. One of them even began peeing out of fear as their legs shook.


    Faizan kept walking when he crossed the carpet¡¯s edge and reached the niche. With a swift movement of his hands, he crushed the men¡¯s necks and they fell limp in front of the maulvi who began screeching with fear.


    ¡°Oh God! Please help me! Your servant is here inside your home begging for help! Will you not answer?!¡±


    ¡°Why will he?¡± answered Faizan. ¡°You have failed him.¡±


    Faizan reached down and grabbed the old man by the collar of his salwar. The man tried to fight against his giant hand but he was no match. Faizan dragged him across the carpeted floor of the masjid until he reached the entrance. He implored the quill rain to stop and it did. He threw the old man across and watched as he fell painfully onto the hard ground that was covered in quills.


    The maulvi tried to get up onto his feet with difficulty and by the time he did, Faizan had grabbed him by the neck. He raised him up into the air and chuckled as his weak legs smacked against his chest.


    ¡°I have reserved the best death for you.¡±


    Before the maulvi could answer, Faizan ran. He ran towards the masjid and leaped as high as he could, the sharp nails of his empty hand latching onto the bottom of the minaar. The maulvi was screaming as he did so and the turban on his head had unfurled and was falling down to the ground. Faizan pulled down onto the minaar and pushed himself up, gaining momentum until he was practically running in leaps along its tall body. The maulvi was screaming until the rushing wind had taken the voice out of him and the g-force kept his body frozen.


    The clouds had disappeared and so Faizan could see the whole village underneath by the time he reached the top of the minaar. He stopped when he did so, taking in the view. This land would be the first to be under the goddess¡¯s authority. He turned to look at the maulvi whose body was trembling from the shock of the rapid movement he had had to experience. His lips were trembling as he tried to beg for mercy.


    ¡°Please¡­ don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t¡­ throw me down¡­¡± he begged. ¡°I¡¯ll do anything. Anything.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± answered Faizan. ¡°You aren¡¯t going to touch the ground. You¡¯re going to go straight to hell. The hell that my goddess has prepared for you.¡±


    Faizan pushed down against the quill as hard as he could and propelled himself into the air. He was flying above the minaar and grabbed the maulvi with both his hands, holding onto either side of his body. He slowed down into the air until he was frozen in the air for a second. He saw the maulvi¡¯s face as the realization dawned on the man¡¯s face. Faizan laughed.


    The force of gravity propelled them down and Faizan slammed the body hard into the tip of the minaar. He heard a sickening crunch and blood spill all over him, as his momentum continued to track him downwards. He grabbed onto the minaar¡¯s base steadily, slowing his speed steadily until he jumped onto the ground with a thud.


    He looked up and his jaw fell down in awe.


    He saw a colourful swirling form above the minaar, like a portal, through which he saw the very galaxies and stars he had seen in the dreams with the goddess. The minaar was rising up towards it, and it seemed to Faizan as if it was elongating until he heard the loud cracking of it breaking off from the top of the masjid. It slowly rose up towards the colourful swirling portal, the maulvi on the tip looking like an ant compared to the galaxies he was moving towards. The quill  slowly entered the portal that was swallowing it up. When the whole thing had gone through, he saw the goddess.


    She was beautiful.


    Her giant form looked even more magnificent in real life and his body was overflowing with energy until he burst into tears and fell onto his knees, looking at her form. He could feel her pleasure and delight at him fulfilling his task as she looked down at him.


    ¡°You have done well, Vessel,¡± her voice reverberated in his head. ¡°The witches are safe because of you. Do you see them?¡±


    He turned behind and saw all their forms glowing across the lands near their caves. They too were in awe of the goddess staring down at them. Faizan saw the giant minaar quill slowly moving towards her huge form until it became part of her body. It was unnoticeable among the giant quills that were larger than galaxies.


    ¡°He will suffer for an eternity on my back,¡± she told him.


    ¡°As he should,¡± he answered.


    ¡°But he is not the only one who needs to,¡± she said. ¡°There are many more men out in the world that are worse than him. This is only the beginning, Vessel. Do you understand?¡±


    Faizan nodded. He swept away the tears in his eyes.


    ¡°I do.¡±

 Epilogue

    The morning was filled with the sound of the birds chirping which coincided with the rising of the sun. The weather was sunny but a cold breeze was still blowing which signaled the arrival of the spring. The sky above was of a clear blue hue. The day could not be more beautiful but there was still something sinister afoot. The horror was not over and there was still much to come.


    Faizan gently drove the car over a small bump at an intersection that signalled the end of the village territory. He did not bother checking if anyone was arriving on the wider and relatively smoother dirt road that endlessly stretched ahead of him. He settled into the seat knowing there was a long drive ahead of him. He did not mind. He had been through hell and worse.


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    And he had survived.


    The witches had chosen to stay in Seywal informing him that they had preparations to make before they joined the civilised world. He had been given a duty too. One that would usher in a new age for them.


    He grabbed onto the satchel that was on the passenger seat and felt a smile form on his face as he looked at the glowing content inside. He reached into the satchel and felt the porcupine quills slide over his fingers, filling him up with the goddess¡¯s energy. He turned around to look at the giant sacks that were choke full of the porcupine quills that he would spread onto the rooftops of locations they had strategically chosen.


    It was time to change the world in her image. For so long had there not been peace for women in South Asia. The rates of murder and rape were at a sky high level. There was no freedom for the woman and the society was largely patriarchal. This would soon change.


    The world would be hers.


    He would make sure of it.