A voice;

  ?"O my blind king!" her voice shook. "See my torment, touch my form!... With your handless palm...."

  ?Her voice was desperate—weeping, broken, and feminine. It was the voice of penance.

  ?(Silence)

  ?The thunder claps in the darkest of night; heavens wept in sorrow. Midst the way to the fort of Kampilya, a warrior on the back of his horse, piercing the dark, moved ahead.

  ?On his face, adorned with despair, his eyes reflected the light still on the fort in the midst of the shower. A little hope lingered in the eyes, yet his face was grave. The pour bathed his face, water sliding to the curves of his features; sliding from the nose, the cold drop fell on the horse's skin, making it shiver.

  ?Yet he marched forward. But suddenly—"shack," a sound came. An arrow pierced his forehead; the blood washed the iron-head, sliding, diverging, and again reuniting. Again a stream followed the path of his nose, again a drop fell on the horse's skin, and again the shivers broke out.

  ?From behind, the army of "wolves" howled. The frontmen laughed in their evilest of smiles. But again the silence broke out. And then a path was made for "him" to come forward. His dark horse-like eyes of night, figure tall as Indra. Long wet hair touching his waist. He came forward and raised his hand to the heavens, and a smile broke out on his face.

  ?And ahead of him, the fort lay.

  ?Fort of Kampilya, the late winter of 147 BCE,

  The front watchtower.

  ?"You better be home this time; your wife will kill you if you're late for her delivery, haha!"

  "Indra sure is pouring tonight."

  "Hey, get the stocks to the eastern wall!"

  ?"Hey Sumitr, what is that in the sky?"

  "Sky? Huh, is it dawn already?"

  "That... that is not dawn... that... that is—"

  He held his friend in front as the arrows pierced the watchers. Dozens of arrows penetrated every body.

  "Sorry, I am really sorry... huh huh huh... I was for my survival... yeah, I didn't make him get killed... it was just... hhh huh... I am sorry... I need to run, yeah, I have to escape, right, I will—"

  An arrow pierced through his temple, sticking his head to the wall on the side as he ran, sacrificing his friend.

  ?"Sir Purap (fort general), we have been attacked! It looks like someone among us betrayed us and leaked the information of his and her majesty being here."

  "It's the end... the emperor passed away this dusk and now... we have to stop them until the empress leaves through the secret passage. You go inform her!"

  "Yes, sir!"

  As the watcher marches down the wall to his order, the arrows kiss him; the copper of his blood mixes with iron.

  ?Outside the fort:

  ?As the "wolves" marched forward, the distance grew small. But the fort-keepers had to close the grand doors for the sake of—at least—a delay. They used elephants to close the doors.

  Seeing this, "he" called, "Ajanya!"

  Hearing his name, an early teenager sat on his most loyal horse and rushed towards the gates. Spear in his hand, he smiled with gluttony, as a hunter on its prey.

  Coming closer, he stabs the neck of none other than his horse; in pain, the horse jumps, and with that thrust, he jumps on the elephant and stabs its back, not to kill, but to make it mad.

  In pain, the elephant panics, butchering its own masters.

  And the doors were still open, and the hunger of Ajanya had yet not ended.

  ?On the open gates of the rampart, Ajanya stood. A smile never left his face. Terrified, the gatekeepers attacked him all at once. Barehanded, he rushed towards them, dodged, and grabbed the side-one's head and rasped it to the wall. His face got ground like chalk to a board.

  ?He kills them, or more, he rampages—one by one, slowly, like a gentle song. Rhythm the blood and vocals the cries.

  The bravery left at the sight of his brutality and they began to run.

  "He... he is a monster! I... I don't want to die!"

  "Save me, Lord! Ahh... ahh...!!!"

  Killing some of the front, Ajanya laughed like a madman but then stopped and stood still.

  "Run!"

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  He said to the gatekeepers and smiled.

  ?As they run, he leaves the ones still at the gates and chases them to hunt. In no time, he was in front of them. And then he caught the first one, tearing his thyroid cartilage out. He grabs the dagger the keeper was holding as the stream flux washed his face.

  ?Truly, he was "Ajanya the Bloodbather."

  ?Then he grabs the second one with his firm assault and makes the dagger dance on his body. With every try of survival, he cuts parts. Finger by finger, then limbs, and then he leaves him paralyzed in pain with no limb to run or try. And then he stabs his eyes. Yet still leaving him to live, he moves to another.

  ?Picking the spear, he launches it on the left two keepers; it crosses the first's head and the other's chest.

  "No no no no no noooo!!!! They just died like that!"

  Dissatisfied, Ajanya moved his face to look at the one keeper who didn't run and SMILED.

  ?The keeper froze with fear. He wanted to scream, but no word came out of his face; he wanted to weep, but there were no tears to fall.

  "You are good, you know that. I... I will... yeah, I will give you a prize, you know... how should I... how should I kill you? Believe me, I will put a good thought to it—phhaha!—sorry, sorry, it's just—phhaha haa ha!!! It's so interesting! I will, I will savor it to the end of earthly pleasures!"

  ?And then he suddenly grabs his neck, lifts him to the wall.

  "Your eyes, how beautiful. Colored with fear, it's almost giving lust. Lemme touch them; lemme touch that beautiful fear in them."

  As he says this, he slowly and gracefully stabs his middle and index fingers into his eyes. Crimson streams and songs of cries followed.

  "AhhuhhuuuhhhhHhHhHHHHAHHHHHH!"

  "Phuphu!"

  Yet he smiled.

  ?"Ah, I almost forgot."

  He comes out at the entrance of the fort and waves his hand in signal to the army outside.

  "He" sees the signal with all his army.

  His long wet hair waved in gales as "he" said:

  "Let's dig in."

  ?Outside the Empress' chamber, Fort of Kampilya:

  ?The Purap himself comes to inform the empress of the invasion. But as he tries to enter the chamber, the head servant lady stops him.

  "Sir, you can't go inside; no man is allowed!"

  "But—"

  "Lord, the empress is still giving birth, please—"

  "Let him in!"

  In the midst of pain and cries of delivery, the empress orders.

  "But milady—"

  "Let him in!"

  ?While outside the fort:

  ?The army of "wolves" marched in, rampaging every last soldier.

  ?"Samrajni! Kampilya is burning!" said the Purap.

  Struggling with the pain of birth, clenching the bedsheet with her fist, she endured the pain, closing her eyes tightly, and then a breath. Gathering all her strength, she whispered:

  "Come here, Purap Shatrughna, lend me your ear!"

  ?The gates of the ramparts, open and nude, howled with the wind as the storm grew. The army of "wolves" now entered the fortress and left a trail of screaming blood with each step inside. Ajanya led "his" path, butchering every soldier that came in front of "him." Bejeweling the path to the chamber of the queen with crimson. In front of it, the guards and maids stood ready to give their lives in the most gory way.

  Seeing this, Ajanya smiled, EVEN MORE.

  Yet "he" behind stood still and watched with no curve of expression on his face.

  ?And then the sword of Ajanya danced on the shapes of them. There was no discrimination, no hatred, no anger; men, women, young, old—they were all equal. In no time, the floor was radiating with scarlet abdomens, trails of guts, and gruesome flesh. It had now become impossible to differentiate their parts and them; they were now all just gruesome, gory meat.

  ?Now clad with blood, facing above, Ajanya laughed.

  "Phh-phha-ha ha ha haa!!"

  But then suddenly, the expression on his face became grave, as if he had made a mistake. The expressions mimicked those of the people he massacred. He looked behind him to see "him."

  Was there any drop of blood on "him"? There should be not.

  He ran his eyes on "his" form and then took a breath of relief; there wasn't any on "him."

  Overwhelmed with gladness, he moved forward to open the gate of the chambers. But suddenly a voice came from behind; it was him.

  "Stop!" "he" said.

  ?"Hah... (sigh)... this is my path to walk."

  Hearing the command, Ajanya clenched his jaw with absolute FEAR and kneeled as fast as he could, his head kissing the earth.

  As "he" opened the door, the sword of Purap welcomed him. Blood flew with the cold gales of wind. But it didn't belong to "him."

  A sudden "thack." It was the arm of Purap falling, flying on the ground, leaving a trajectory of copper all the way.

  "Aghhhh!!!" the Purap screamed.

  ?Leaving Purap, he moved to the empress, who was holding a sword firmly to the ground with her hands, between her legs, to balance herself.

  From behind, Purap screamed, "Phu huff fuu! (Breathing heavily in pain) Don't forget me, monster! While I am alive, I will not let you even look at my empress."

  "He" slightly turned his profile and gazed at him (Purap) for a moment, expressionlessly with almost closed eyes, and then continued towards her.

  Purap cried, "Listen, you—"

  "You don't understand, do you?" Ajanya came inside and said to Purap. "You are so insignificant and weak that he doesn't even need to kill you!"

  ?"You knew... right?" whispered the empress, slowly raising her head to see him. "You knew that the secret passage of the fort of Kushinara would be flooded in the storm; that is why you made sure that we end up here, so that there would be no way out. You knew, didn't you? The Nameless King!"

  As the empress cries out, a smile breaks on the face of "him."

  ?This is the moment, how beautiful! How very beautiful!!! I've lived my life for a moment like this; this is what I burned my mother to death for. This is Nirvanaaaa!!!

  ?(He continues) "—I will end, I will end the last of him, his son, his son's son, I will end the very legacy of Uptis. This world should know, this world should see, this world should believe—the true despair!"

  ?Terrified to the bone, she attacks. Swings the sword on him. And he not only dodges but plays. He plays with her. But he kicks her in the abdomen. The blood bursts out of her womb. Strengthless, she laments.

  And then he moves towards the son, who has just been born, to bury him in the breast of death. The child cries, unknown to his fate.

  ?She, enduring the pain, reached out and held his legs. Honor was long lost; she was now begging.

  Yet he continued with a rare smile towards the prince, rubbing her face to the ground as he moved forward.

  Ajanya laughed at the scene in humor. While Purap lay dead with loss of blood and, more significantly, HOPE.

  ?Reaching out, he ascends the prince, holding his legs upward, while the face of the prince saw the earth. Turned upside down, the child cried—

  "Enhh—"

  Suddenly, in the midst of the cry, "he" smacked the child to the ground. And the cries stopped. The eyes of the empress widened with heartbreak. No word came out of her mouth.

  It was like time had stopped, until the laughter from behind began.

  The shape of the child, upon meeting the ground, didn't just die—it burst! Like ice on meeting the face of the earth. Yet the laughter continued.

  ?He faces the queen, still like the dead, holds her head by the hair, and whispers in her ear:

  "This is your reward, Empress... my name is—"

  ?The thunder in the skies laments, the storm never going down.

  ?He gently takes a knife and slowly begins to behead her. Her expression is yet the same, her eyes still looking at her formless child.

  ?The thunder crackles again in despair. The heavens cried to wash away the blood.

  ?Now "he" comes to the top of the fort. Every soldier of his army looked upon his long torso, curving and arching. His hair, soaked in rain, blew in the wind. And then he raised his right hand, holding by the hair the beheaded empress.

  ?The night had become more dark, and there was no dawn to trace.