I started writing since I was 5.
The first story I ever wrote was of a female gladiator and after that, I never stopped.
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If you feel tired of the world, write down whatever hits you on a piece of paper. Then set it on fire.


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the storm that quenched me

May 14, 2022


Standing against the backdrop of the starlit night sky, I knew that screaming my heart out was useless to the point of infinity; but even then, I continued flexing my throat muscles, releasing the entire quantity of glucagon stored in my body through my lips. A shadow of a tall shady man had appeared around the corner, his eyebrows furrowing closer to each other. Slowly his dark lips curved into an iniquitous smile.

 "Now, now, my dear. Why do you wrestle so much? As if the sky has clouded over already?" He walked down the narrow hallway to the crystalline window sills, rubbing his palms against each other as if relishing each iota of pain that sprang through my limp body every now and then. “Look outside, the sky’s quite clear. And anyway, you know what they say about skies…” the corner of his lips, curved into a smile. A smile, that seemed to be drinking every single drop of blood from my body. He turned towards me, his long hair shining under the soft gleam of the moon.

 ″The sky is always unusually calm before a storm-isn't it??"

Little grey figures could be seen through the corner of my bare eyes. The figures of horror. The figures of intensity. Shadows … shadows everywhere. The shadows of fear. Of an unnerving infliction to quench my thirst in the puddles of water-like liquid lying across the sparkling marble floor. The side of my face touching the cold floor now seemed to be burning, which was odd. I lay back and tried to remember how I had come here. Was it the party, that night of utmost intoxication or was it the morning after? Were the pills responsible, or the man? Or were both? For a second, my eyes seemed to have faltered and gave in to the desire to pass out but no- passing out now would be to pass out forever. To pass out a hundred times. I held my breath, my eyes unflickering, staring straight at the shadowy figure ahead of me when he hurled back.

As he slashed his ivory knife into my limp body, a soft beam of the starlit night sky entered the room through the open window. I did not scream. I did not cry … did not even try to save myself as he slashed me with the mere sharp structure. Again, then again. Then with a small breath, again.

He laughed.

My insides throbbed in eternal pain as I gasped, again and again as he kept pushing it inside me. He did not seem to have the slightest intention to stop. Perhaps, give me a moment to breathe? No – all that occupied his mind right now was the fascinating clunk of the metal as it broke my bones. The sound seemed to pierce deeper into my form than the dagger which had slashed my heart into two.

But my heart had already been slashed into a thousand pieces three years ago.

 As I closed my eyes in distress, he pushed the sharp edge deeper into my bare body. “How much- “I whispered, making him look at me for the first time since he had brought me here. “How much deeper Ed? How much more deep do you want to go?” and then, looking straight into his eyes which had now revealed themselves, I laughed. My laugh echoed throughout the hall, pounding the walls and coming back again to reflect inside our eardrums. I laughed and grinned as his blood-soaked hands shook. With a loud clang, the metal fell to the ground.

Outside, the clear sky had shifted. Gray shadows had now covered the purity of the canvas and as we lay there, on the floor, staring at each other, a soft scream wailed through the window. “How…are…” he stuttered, his eyebrows giving in to an unflinching frown.

"The storm..." I whispered, without giving heed to his words. ″... has just begun my dear."

With a loud wail, he thrust the dagger into my breast, tearing it apart.

I lay motionless on the cold marble floor, my heart fading out into oblivion, my eyes – glassy and unflinching, the last of my breath evaporated into thin air. My hair lay on the ground, tangled. In a mess. He would have to cut it off now. This was a daily routine for him. This was all he had done in his life. Beckon women to his house - a huge ancestral mansion, then cut the life out of them. Women were as dumb as donkeys. They could be easily lured by the stories of grand ancestors and heavy stacks of cash.  Some said they loved him, while some just came for the money.

As he stared at his latest victim, a cold shudder ran down his spine. The winds were screaming now, blasting through the window sills. He ran to the windows, trying to pull them shut but no- it was almost as if a spirit had taken hold of them. The superhuman strength kept the windows ajar, keeping his eyes away from the insides of the room.

Suddenly, he heard an electric bolt strike somewhere near him. He looked around, hoisting his body out of the window, trying to locate the source when suddenly, the sound was behind him. Before he knew it, the light which had seemed to have fallen a few houses away was eating through the fuel and gnawing at the embers of rage that embraced the roof of the house, spreading eloquently to the ground floor where the man stood, my livid visage reflecting in his iris. My bones burned as I clasped his hand into mine, pulling him into the insides of the hall- half of which burnt, slowly but steadily. It burnt in my fury.

 Suddenly, the ground collapsed, and there emerged a hole. Like a labyrinth, it unfolded its depths into a wall of terror. The heat around us was nothing to the warmth issuing from the pit of darkness. I turned to the man who had just killed me.

 His face was a canvas of fear. My lips curved to a sneer, taking in his terror with utmost relish. With a scream, I jumped into the pit of hell, taking him with me as the fire gnawed at the last piece of cement of the ancient mansion where he had buried so many women, just like me.

But the storm had just begun.


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  • May 14, 2022 - 5:45am (Now Viewing)

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