Fireflies

A Butcher Of Lives

                          Under the dim, dull lights. The opulent wines were undulating, still caged inside those perfectly curved bottles. Waiting for the bartender to pour them out in the glasses like liquid gold. The air was suffocating, drugged with swears, with the darkness. There were two legged, two eyed monsters all around. There was everything but nothing. There was this ambience. 

And there he stood. Faintly tapping his foot to the light classic played by the guy at the piano. Slowly sipping from the glass he held while his eyes wandered around the place with suspicion at guard. 

"We can't find our men, sir." 

"Repeat." He slurred with a thick accent. 

"Sir, we can't find those men who went to check on the lagoon house." 

"Repeat." He grumbled.

"Sir, we can't find our men..." The messenger gulped with what we call as fear. Sweat trickled down his neck slowly, silently. Because what he saw wasn't a sight to behold.

The man to whom he was reporting the incident, stopped tapping to the music. With burning fury he slowly picked up his glass, brought it close to his lips and chugged down the liquid burning his throat. He held the glass so firmly in his jaws, breaking, shattering the glass into his mouth. 

Putting the bloodied broken glassware back on the table, he turned to face the reporter smiling furiously while the warm blood gushed out of his wounded lips. Savoring the coppery taste of his own existence he whispered, "You've brought me news, not so good. But there's always a reward when you are working for me. Always a reward for serving Cain." He laughed giving hints of his slyness. 

Nobody heard from the guy who brought the news to Cain, ever again.

"Send our men ahead. Deeper into the forests. I smell something fishy. Prepare for a journey." He yelled throwing another glass towards the wine cell and shattering everything down. Destroying everything down. 

This was Cain. Just Cain. Every tale has few chapters which must not be read. Every life has secrets, shush. Nothing to be revealed. And such was Cain. Such was his life, not to be talked about. Where did he come from? Why was he like this? There are answers to these questions, there are always answers. But sometimes, these answers make no sense. Hence we fail to accept them for what they are. Such are the answers to Cain. His fierce eyes, dry and grey haunted people's souls when once looked into them. His face jeweled with scars and self harm was what he proudly owned. His thoughts lacked what makes us human. A butcher of lives, he famed his living. And there was something he loved the most. He craved the most.

 Taking away freedom.

Locals said, he lived behind the iron bars. Caging every pretty bird he ever spotted flying over his roof. He owned a hundred caged birds. He owned a hundred lives. He took what he could never give. Many a times, while returning from the woods people had spotted him hunting the free ones with his rifle and locking them away and throwing the keys in the Amazon. 

There's no struggle without opposition. There's no meaning without worth. There's no importance of life if you don't exhale. There's always dark waiting for the light to slit through it and prove it's worth. A diamond comes out of the coals, remember that. Cain was soon going to fulfil the purpose of his life. He was soon going to play the part of the darkness. He was soon going to try and chain the free bird of ours. He had started for the journey, started towards the Charlotte.

We live a beautiful life. We live the way we want to, but there have been days and there are still people who are struggling to live. Who think merely existing in this world is a big task for them. We don't have people coming after us, we don't have the fear of getting locked up in a cage.  Imagine, just imagine what a blessed life we're in. We're free. We're free to make mistakes, to learn a new lesson each time we fall and get up with that spark in our eyes which can lit hope in every soul you peep into. 

There are people on this planet. Who've spun the thread of life into a beautiful tunic of freedom. Who knew, that if infinity can exist simply in mathematics, infinity can also exist in our lives, in the form of freedom. In the form of interminable possibilities. 

The locals passed on the legend, one fine day. One person will be chosen. The One will travel. The One will be picked, trained by the river herself. Amazon will bring one wave, one fine day and cleanse the whole city saving it from the wrong hands. That chosen one will fly. That fighter will fight, because yes. Freedom matters. Fearlessness matters. 

Just like everyday, Cain pulled the trigger at least thrice and brought three parakeets home. Into a brand new silver cage. Morgan, who took care of these birds looked at the new guests with pity. Hoping someday he would watch these lives fly in the wide blue sky till the horizon.

Cain locked the cage jostling the keys. He walked to the veranda of his house from where one could look over the mighty river. He tossed the key in the strong water current imagining the key drowning to the rock bottom of the river. But maybe there was some fate, there was some hope that the key didn't drown.

"Who are these people?" Arthur groaned shooting another person off the boat.

"Must be the men sent after us for sure." Dominic answered missing a shot.

Soon the tribe was able to get rid of those men from the civilized. But there were wounds they had to bear in return of this safety. There are prices to pay for everything.

Till when am I going to keep running? When will this get over? When will I find what I'm looking for? Charlotte wondered as she made way towards the river that evening. There were hundreds of questions swirling in her mind like the ripples in the water. 

She had put her hand in the current, was feeling the cold warmth. When suddenly she caught something in her hand. Bringing out her hand from the water, she held one small silver key. 

Which lock will I open from this key? She wondered and kept staring at it. Maybe I'll open the lock of this muddle I'm in, by this key. She smiled and held the key close in her palms, under the setting sunlight and rising moonlight.