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Gauri, a young village girl holding firm views about morals a...
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Her gait was predatory and eyes forlorn, as she watched her slave returning from his latest tryst. A cunning smile stretched on her dried and thin lips noting the diamond of the ongoing ritual hanging limp on his shoulder. Beckoning him closer with a flick of her finger, she gestures at him to lay Gauri against the protruding roots of a lonely and scary dead tree- the home of hundreds of bats.
Slow and steady, keeping his expressions neutral, he obliges, not showing the turmoil thundering inside. A slight revelation of emotion might lift the curtain of oblivion. He was here to play her, not get played. Let her believe he was fully immersed in her wicked spell.
Raghuveer almost flinched when the witch neared them and kneeled in front of Gauri holding thick shackles.
"Bind her to the tree." She hissed venomously, thrusting the dead weight in his arms. The grinding of his jaw was threatening to echo out of his mouth. Unwillingly, he yanks at the big shackles and binds Gauri's torso to the tree, but doesn't lock the two free ends. The thought of it made his throat tighten in anxiety. His heart was already galloping at a fast pace. Still, he maintained the façade. If something goes wrong, at least Gauri will have a chance to escape. All she has to do is tug hard enough to loosen the bond. He prayed for his son to arrive soon. Somebody needs to interrupt this woman before she does the unthinkable.
The whispers in his ears tried to overpower his conscience. He shivers and gulps, digging the nails in his palms.
Attaining her previous stance, the witch resumes her chants. Throwing putrid pieces of meat into the burning pyre using her left hand and holding a thick bone in the right, she moves her upper body in a circular motion, keeping her eyes trained on fire.
"Come back to me, my evil prince.
The price of sacrifice awaits.
Quench your thirst, regain your strength,
the virgin blood lays in bed.
A night has come, when the moon will be full,
but the darkness will obscure its face.
The eclipse of century will soon commence,
and my enemies will pay a great penance.
In the heat of unholy I will bake victory,
in my fire of vengeance, they will scream for mercy.
