Vidyut walked over to the shadow that was still writhing on the ground, groaning from time to time. Alok and Surya followed him with the rest of the group behind them. Vidyut squatted down on the snowy ground beside the wounded spirit and reached out with an air dagger to stab right into where its chest would be. The spirit let out a shrill cry, the most harrowing Surya had ever heard, and opened its eyes, glowing red like rubies.
"Careful," the word came unbidden from Surya's mouth. Yet, Vidyut continued to slice into the pishacha's chest in silence. Its eyes glowed brighter with each thrust of the dagger, so did the red stripes that lined its dark, crooked body. Its thin, bony hands clawed like a bird's, tried to grasp at anything but air, the deeper the knife went.
