It was a new moon day, the sky was dark as ever and a sudden thunderbolt raised chills all over my body. Sita was spitting some bold shits she could think of, just like that as a response to his provocation. 'I am not scared!' 'I am not scared!', I chanted this inside like a religious chant.
He made a low sick giggle as he splashed the dirty water from the puddle with some kicks on us. He was as childish as he sounded like, but a devil's child. He then sang a very unknown song that told,
'Live, fight and die, waste of time…
Baby wither softly like a flower
else I pluck that's my power…'
I saw no reason to stay still waiting for him to give his blow. I moved first, surprisingly he had been waiting for me too. The first hit, he dodged easily as his moves were faster, it's not like I did not know that but he was quicker. He had this weird sense, which made his moves more perfect than mine. His fist reached my ears so easily and I was lucky enough to avoid taking it on my face. His hand very sharply brushed against the pinna and the next thought in my mind was finding ways to run away.
"Prakash!", she dissolved into thin air within a fraction of a second. I bet that old man was not expecting it either, I heard her punch landing on his lower abdomen. He made my shirt nasty with his green blood, I was still not used to his colour of blood. Why was he bleeding green?
And again, Sita gave me hope, who knew she could fight? I steadied up and attacked him again, Ahim's training did not go in vain. He collapsed in pain when my hook kick pinned him down. The crucial thing was to immobilise the weed and then I followed what Ahim had taught me to do. I checked if he was conscious, he was. Then I reached out to Sita for her assistance.
"Hold his hands!"
She followed my words and held his hands crossed over his body and the air got colder. The street still looked deserted as if only ghosts resided there. I did feel that it was too easy; less complicated than that of the last time. Maybe I shouldn't have felt that. Sita's hands lost a grip and all it took was a fraction of a second for him to escape. This time he sped into the streets his presence was lost into mere traces. Just like that, we lost him once again. I took off chasing behind him. I felt as if it was a golden chance to get rid of a weed. After all, he was too good at hiding himself in the human mass.
There was one step and about ten kilometres he passed ahead, but I knew what I was capable of. It was as if we were on a trampoline, I stepped ahead of him every time he increased his speed. It might look as if we were vapouring into thin air to the onlookers. I heard him clicking his tongue getting irritated at me.
We were speeding up beside each other, the moonless night wasn't helping with making my task easier. For the alley we were passing by was too narrow, I found myself colliding with him to steam up our fight. He elbowed me and I punched him back in a spark. We exchanged useless blows and both knew none of us was hurt with those. Finally, he reached a huge dead banyan tree at the end of the living area. There was no way out of the street, a dead-end was reached in half an hour running and chasing. With another mocking smirk, he glared into my soul and jumped into the dead tree, and turned into dust.
The dirty dust then vanished away into nothing. I was hesitant but stepped forward to touch the tree. An invisible hollow sucked in my hands and then I let it swallow me in. A stink invaded my organs, I wanted to puke right away but then a wild root caught my attention. A root, that was breathing filth.
Then again, I walked to the root, "Will everything get better if I get rid of it?"