Shadow-Rajah

The pot hissed, cackles coming from the fire below it. Bubbles forming on the water. It was huge, about the size of a grown man’s stomach. The man with one eye opened the lid, leaned back, and poured some salt in. Hens clucked as they waddled around. Behind a particularly fat one waddled a score of chicks, their yellow caked with dust. The ground was littered with dust and wrappers from packets of crisps, and cigarette blunts and boxes. The man with one eye undid the knots on his shalwaar and peed on the wall, whistling to himself. The slim, tall man seated on the chair watched. The man with the blindfold, tied to the chair fidgeted.

“I say we get this done with already.” One-Eye said in a voice like grating metal.

“Wait.” the voice of the man lounging on the chair was polished. Upper class.

The man in the chair struggled, the ropes were too tight. The skin on his arms around the ropes was turning blue though he could not see it. Mosquitos danced lazily in the hot equatorial sun. All three men were sweating.

They were in a courtyard surrounded by half baked brick walls, all covered in dust. The walls were high enough that no prying eyes could see. Besides, they were far enough from the city that few people would venture by, and those that did, usually to go to the northern cities were in cars. They would not hear him. The man knew not to scream, too.

The evaporated water whistled in the pot, straining to be let out. A lot still boiled, and the pot shook with vibrations. The fire burned steadily.

The sky darkened, the sun hid behind the clouds, the sounds hushed, as if a blanket had been thrown over them, the mosquitoes buzzed away, as fast as they could go.

The man in the chair got up, the knife he had been waving around, secured in his pocket. Hands folded in front of him. One-Eye on the other hand was confused, alarmed, he grabbed a gun from nearby. A calm hand on his gun hand, he looked into the eyes of the other, and understood. He put it away. A shadow emerged from the darkness, eating away all the light, it was a hooded figure, shrouded in black as dark as the darkest hole. It was as if the shadow was the source of darkness in the world. A shudder went through the hearts of all living beings present at that meeting.

The shadow hissed, “issss it him?”

“Yes,” the slim man answered.

“Give usssss time.” it hissed.

The two left.

“Where issss it?” it demanded of the man in the chair, who had stopped moving.

He smiled.

It grabbed the pot with claws stretching out, made from darkness, and spilled it over him. He screamed. He burnt.

“Where iss it?” it repeated.

He spat in its face, dripping with boiling water, the wounds the other two had inflicted upon him burning as salt and water poured into them.

It screamed. The world darkened. It removed the blindfold. He screamed.

The sun came back. The two returned. He kept on screaming.