Debt to be paid

There was a screeching noise, like grown nails against the rust of the mangled bus. It broke his sopor. Boy! That was some heck of a power nap, he slurped the saliva dangling off his mouth’s edge. He looked at his digital watch, five minutes to twelve it read. He seemed to have slept in the bus on the way home. His heart skipped a beat when he found himself alone in the bus. The silence was eerie—unknown and dark places reminded him of the graveyard. It brought back memories, once while by his uncle’s grave, he saw him weeping besides his coffin. It disturbed him a lot. A memory locked away in a corner, this place seemed to make him dig that.

Why did not the conductor wake me up? Where the heck am I? And why is this bus in such a bad shape and—filled with webs around? , he seemed to be bamboozled by the conditions around.
He let a sigh and got down from the bus, stretched his arms with a yawn. “Need to smoke, where did I keep that friggin cigarette?” he searched his bag like a desperate soul. “Haha—got you lovely” he kissed the cigarette with some passion. That cigarette was the only thing which could suppress the weird feeling inside him.Counting those rolls, he was disappointed to find only two remaining.

He lit the one in his hand and took a puff. Ah! Bliss, he took in a deep long stroke to fill his lungs with the smoke. The nerves were twitching and the surroundings seemed much sinister as he realized after finishing his cigarette. The road was unknown, the bus—well garbage, street lamp flickering. No human in the vicinity, he screamed “Anybody here?”

No answer, his voice resounded in that empty neighborhood. Though the cigarette calmed his nerves, there were some baleful thoughts which came to him. Alone on this deserted—no, bedraggled place as it seemed to him now; How did I come here in the first place?  Questions riddled him as he paced towards the main road. He saw a dog digging a hole in the ground that was not which caught his attention. A cloth roll, seemed flesh inside that cloth to him from a distance. With virtual darkness around, he decided to investigate further. As the dog saw him approaching, he growled at him. “Chill dude, okay fine I won’t disturb you.” He reacted to dog’s growl. But then what he saw was pretty weird. It was a limb tore off somebody’s body; it did not have the stench as dead part would carry. His stomach was rumbling, a thought crossed his mind—that flesh looks juicy should I just try and roast it! He slapped himself hard, but the hunger pang grew to very much. He felt as if he did not have food for years.

The surroundings looked pretty familiar, yet some things he could notice were weird in moonless dark. How come no vehicle or a man on this Goddamn street, he cursed the Gods. He now reached the crossing; the board sign said M.G Road. Oh! Some place to start. Hope so would reach my place in 5 minutes. Familiar structures passed by him while walking, the City Corporation Building...all dark, This city sleeps early and things look pretty much like this. He walked for about ten minutes or so, but could not find way to his apartment--it was just two blocks away. He finally saw a board at a distance, M.G Road.The sign was not visible in the flickering streetlight at first, but it seemed to have squashed his hopes.

Scratching his head he stood there and saw his pot belly. He was tired and hungry. “You are one nasty creature, no food you affect my brain” he slapped his tummy. He sat beside the road, on the pavement. He took a deep breath and said, “Fuck this shit, this is a dream! I am probably dreaming — where’s the ciggy!” he again reached in his bag to get out the carton. “You are my real love, you rolled up piece of tobacco!” he looked at it with love. As he placed the butt in his fingers and kissed the smoke end, he thought of the darkness, his hand shivered while taking a puff. He always feared the dark, the thought of that grave, steel cold eyes of his uncle's and tears flowing of them flashed. His upper lip had drops of sweat accumulating like dew.

Alone on the wide road, he meandered on the day’s events distinctly remembering sleeping on the bus—that was it, he could remember nothing. Even the nicotine did not help much. He let a cough, but again took a stroke. He wiped the sweat off the cuff of his shirt.

“Can I have some smoke buddy?” a deep, croaky voice asked. He turned around to see a man, humongous—eyes shining like a cat, in the flicker of the street lamp he could get the impression this man was a bit strange. A man in sight atlast—a man? Yes, probably I would go with that.
“Umm—Yes—sure.” he reluctantly agreed to part with his precious. The man lit the cigarette and let in a big puff. Both were now two people on a street alone, what a night, D’oh!
“You seemed to be lost my friend” he enquired with a surprising concern in his voice, “Any help?”
“This place looks familiar, but is strangely not the place I lived in.” he shot a reply to the cat eyed man. “What’s your name?”

“They call me Xahaka” the cat eyed replied. “I’m Varun, never seen you here and what’s with the name? Xa—ka—haa, sorry but that’s some difficult name”

Xahaka took in another strong pull and finished the cigarette. “Oh, it’s just my nickname in another world.”

“Another world? You mean, some online game—World of Warcraft, Dungeons and Dragons kind of?” Varun laughed hysterically.

“Do you know who you are?” Xahaka asked with sincerity. “I told you my name, Isn’t that enough—now could you show me my way? You owe me a cigarette, a debt to be paid, think like that.” Varun got irritated. Xahaka got the address from Varun, he nodded, seemed to know how to go about. They both then left that spot, Xahaka leading him on the route which would lead to Varun’s apartment--it was just two blocks away. The road was one disaster, So much digging these days, Varun frowned.

He was not expecting what was in store from him at the end of the corner, the apartment looked more like a ghost house than some dwelling and probably other apartment were also the same. There were vehicles, abandoned. Whole place seemed like barren--like Chernobyl, like all those haunted places he'd seen in shows.

He then heard the same screech, the same noise which woke up from his slumber.

“Where have you led me in?” Varun was red with anger. He could not see Xahaka, he vanished like he'd come around. He did not have an answer, why he was here. I sacrificed my cigarette for this guy! Now Varun was pretty pissed off with all things going on with him. Why do the strange things happen with me all the time?This is a nightmare. The night seemed to get stranger, his stomach still raging with hunger—that flesh could have done some good, he felt sick. Feeling a strong urge to smoke again, he unzipped his bag and stirred up the compartment—just empty carton. He slumped into a dark corner besides the gate--or what remained of it.

The surrounding now did not fazed him, It's only a dream--I would wake up, there was some hope that somebody would wake him. Varun searched his pockets and his bag again, There should be something—a butt or some thing! But only found a ticket. A bus ticket, dated 1^st April, 2012, he smiled dryly at the date, I chose this day of all! While he was in his thoughts he heard an alarm, it was from his watch.
He killed the alarm pressing the button carelessly. That glance at the watch felt uneasy, he checked his watch again. It read 1am, April 2031. Sweat broke off his brow, he was feeling gutted—more sick than he was that entire night. “You don’t know who you are!” a devilish laugh followed after.  Numbness gripped his entire body—Is it just a nightmare.

Xahaka appeared before him. “Who are you?” a shaken Varun asked him. “Going to take you home baby” Xahaka lampooned him, with a mocking laugh. “Who are you—what am I—No—it must not be—no, no,” Varun voice cracked like an adolescent teen, a tear down his right cheek. His uncle’s face flashed before him—weeping on his tombstone, his soul taken away. A sudden realization gripped him.

Xahaka beckoned him, his cat-like eyes glowing red--flares of Hell fire. The ground rumbled and a crater appeared there, gushing with molten lava.

“It's long that you had slipped past my radar, sleeping in that rusted iron case." Xahaka had that devil's grin. A silence followed the conversation until the devil spoke again.

"Let’s go home buddy, another world here they call me Xahaka—you have some debt to be paid.”