Nothing. He saw nothing. Looking into the horizon, he gaped. His muscles frozen in the fabric of time. His eyes stopped at an aching point, trying to make sense of the place. He looked around again. Void. Limbo.
His limbs dissolved into the aphotic air. The only thing remaining was his vision. His pupils shrunk overpowered by the intensity of the being before him. The presence, the authority. It was unbearable. The forced wind slashed its way through the feeble being. He felt his insides being pulled by something. Something great. Something divine. Blood rushed through him again. His heart pumped. The wind halted as quickly as it had come. The light empowered him again. Feeling limp, he tried yet again. His hand rose in coordination with his eyes. He reached out to the angel before him. And yet Nothing...
~*~*~*~*~*
The door creaked open and the limp body was thrust onto the cold floor. A strong gaze fixed on the pale creature. He snickered before dragging the body across. The white dress tore across the chipped floor. Sharp pieces of marble slashed through the flesh of the being and left a distinct trail across the hallway. The assassin closed the door behind him. Stepping into the Air conditioned room he looked around. Convincing himself he had done it, he smiled for the first time. Grinning victoriously he looked at the creature on the floor. A woman. His inner demons rose and he limped in lust. The dress rose above her thighs. Ripped from places unseen. Her top smeared in blood. Her shoulders blood stained with evidence of struggle. He crooked his head struggling to see more. A veil covered her face from him. He sat down leaving her there. For the first time in eternity, Armaan Mallik felt a tinge of guilt.
~*~*~*~*
Armaan woke up, startled. The dream flashed across him. Every night he faced the dream. No single night was without it. As always his breathing became shallow as he composed himself. Each night he went to sleep with hope of reaching the angel and each night it disappeared. He never gave up. Standing up, he gazed at the clock just as it chimed 1am. Getting up from the sofa he opened the balcony door and stepped out into the Mumbai air. It seemed a lot calmer now. He closed his eyes momentarily. His life flashed before him.
A 6 day old child abandoned in front of an orphanage. Armaan recalled his early years. The calm sea breeze cut through him and he stayed. Committing to the world of crime was the easiest option for the child of the streets. Raina Mallik rescued the blue eyed child from the angry mob as they ran after him. Clutching a piece of bread in his enclosed palm the child brew fire. Raina knew this was different. Hundreds of kids everyday flashed across the streets of Mumbai. Sitting in his lap Raina asked the kid his name. He shrug his shoulders. Raina called him his Armaan. Armaan Mallik was born.
Flashing from the past Armaan ran his fingers through his hair. Raina Mallik was a sly under world don. Armaan followed right after. Being his 'son' and right hand man wasn't easy. Some corner of him always despised Raina, for turning him into the beast he had. He wished he could still be with the the nice man in the orphanage. Too young to remember his name but his image had stuck onto him forever. His snowy white hair and his white walking stick. Every time he came, the young boy always felt closer to parental affection. He distinctly remembered the 2 kids that came with him. Remotely alone and distanced from the kids in the orphanage the Sundays spent were well. Playing, laughing.
He ran from there when he was 6. Clearly wanting to be the people in newspapers, he chased his luck. And that brought him and Raina together. Now Aged 24, Armaan Mallik had always obeyed Raina. The innumerable gang wars, murders and riots. Although Armaan only supervised assassinations, he'd seen enough to not flinch any more.
He looked at the woman lying on the floor. Lifeless, limp. The anaesthetic would wear off soon. She was the heiress to the the sole empire set by her family. Raina Mallik seized the opportunity. Laden with enough cash all over the globe, Raina was sufficient enough to support a whole war but never the less. When the opportunity knocked. Raina welcomed it. Armaan followed orders. Raina's men had abducted the creature form her house. As always Raina gave Armaan the so called easy task. He was to look after the female until the ransom demand was paid off. Armaan glanced at his watch. 1:50 am. Tomorrow morning everything would be done. The girl's well wishers had been warned of the abduction. All that was left was the money to be paid.
He looked up at the stars. High above the ocean before him. An involuntary gasp escaped him as he felt the muscles of his inside cling to him. He headed back inside. Bending over to the crumpled body on the floor. Armaan saw her face. The veil put on her by the abductors had been blown off by the ocean wind. Her skin tanned. Sharp features. Tossed brown curls. Her lips pale. Armaan felt the blood rush to him. It had been ages since he's felt a naked body against his own. He stiffened there. The site before him was rousing. Before he knew it, he bent over and took the lifeless lips into his. Prodding and sucking them, his unconscious mind begged for a response. Obviously not getting any, the irrational mind kicked in. Rage turmoiled through him as he slipped his tongue inside her virgin lips and bit them.
Gasping he let go. Smiling to himself, he wiped his lips and mumbled incoherently. "We're going to have fun Miss Riddhima Gupta..."
Shiv Shakti
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