Epilogue -- Picking Up The Pieces

Lisa went through her bag of books like a fiend. She was looking for one particular edition of a book that was supposed to be lost in time. She found the book and sliced through the thick cardboard front cover with a sharp knife. The cover split apart and a black card fell to the ground. She picked up the card and started to think about her plan to acquire the other two.

-/-

Inside the cabal's headquarter, the mood was morose. Tension lay heavy on the table. “Jester has gone AWOL,” the fat man known as Porco said as he shoveled prawn rice into his mouth.

Cocotte sipped wine and glared at Porco. “I knew something like this might happen. I have another agent in the field. We still might get our hands on not one but two black cards.”

-/-

Mongrifier sprawled under a book shelf. Basking in the glow of old pages and heady scent of his library. He was back in his domain and things were alright everywhere. He leisurely picked up a random book and started to eat it. A weird fiction book, how quaint.

Something moved in the corner of his vision.

Something small and fast. He was up and after that thing in a flash. He saw what it was. Sitting on top of a bookshelf was a cat. There was a tag on its collar that said Mr. Kibbles.

Mongrifier fucking hated cats.

-- End Of Movement One -- 

--------------------

That's it. For now. 

I am going to bring these fuckers back into some stories next soon. But for now, this is it. I hope you enjoyed it. Non existent readers. I wish you well, I really do. 

Now, are you ready to read something really fucking offensive?

You're not.

Soon...

Bundled

Mr. Kosmos woke up and a headache was spreading through his head into his body. The pain pulsed with an intensity that was beyond anything he had ever imagined. Jester sat in front of him, straddling a chair.

He had a bundle lying at his feet. It looked like skin. Repulsed, Mr. Kosmos realized it was skin. A feeling like a song rushed through his head. His black card was in there.

"Where's my mother?" He asked.

"She's here. Tied in the other room. You woke up earlier so I thought I'd have a little chat with you."

"Chat? I don't think I want to talk to you. You people came after me, all I did was retaliate."

"It's not that simple, Nikolai." Jester sighed. "You fucked with the wrong people when you kept that card on you."

"The card chose me! It stayed with me out of its own accord."

"You don't get it, man. Do you? There are powers behind your understanding out there. And keeping this card means calling their attention to you. You saw the Mongrifier , didn't you? There are worse things that come attached to this card."

"I fought that beast and I can fight others too once I have the card."

"You're not getting it. Plain and simple. I was tasked with getting the card and then driving a spike through your heart."

Mr. Kosmos just stared at Jester. He was alive, for now. And that meant he was still useful. For what purpose, he didn't know, but he wanted to keep it that way.

“Figured it out yet? You were right when you said the card chose you. I've tried and Lisa has tried but we can't make the card do what you can make it do. We need someone who can shift through timelines. There are things brewing in the background. World, or shall I say worlds are at risk. And, regrettably, we need your help.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, that's cool. I am game to help you people. Just give me the card.”

“I'll give you the card and something else with it too.”

“Bring it on, then.”

“I'm giving you my word. Fuck this up, and I will hunt you down through time and space and put a fucking spike in your chest. And I don't break my word for anyone. Are we clear on this?”

“Crystal. I don't fuck up helping you people and I get to go scot free once this is over.”

“More or less.”

“Please, elaborate on the less part.”

Jester squeezed his temples with his fingers. This was giving him a headache.

“I'll explain everything if you only promise to go with the flow on this one.”

“Sure. Can I get the card now?”

Jester took out his knife and sliced the threads that tied the bundle together. He took out the card and held it above Mr. Kosmos' waiting hand.

“Don't make me regret this, Nikolai.”

Mr. Kosmos just smiled and snatched the card. He felt the rush of power surge through him like a drug. The card whispered to him like a lover and he needed the love.

Everything was going to be just fine.

Absolutely fine.

-----

Fin. For now. Some epilogue shit tomorrow. 

Mother Arrives

The Mongrifier roared in frustration as it pushed the car away from it. The hit had caused some damage and it could feel his insides slosh around a bit but he was angry. So angry that for now the pain didn't matter. He had to get the woman who had struck him with the vehicle.

He limped after the woman who ran full speed towards Mr. Kosmos. She reached the tree before Mongrifier could reach her. She sliced the rope binding Mr. Kosmos to the tree and the card went through the rope like a hot knife through butter.

“Gimme that!” Mr. Kosmos lunged for the card but his mother held it away from his reach.

“No! I found it, it's mine.”

He looked behind his mother and saw Mongrifier speeding up towards them.

“Mon, if you don't give me this card, we both die. You don't know how to use this thing and the animal rushing towards us is not going to stop unless you let me use this card.”

“Oh, shush. I know enough how to use this card. Now sit the fuck down and let mama do her thing.”

Mr. Kosmos shrunk away in face of the rebuke. Something small twisted itself inside him and died. He didn't have to worry for long. A hand crept up from behind him, clamped up on his mouth and dragged him. He struggled, but the hand was strong and his strength was fading after being tied up for so long. He tried calling out for his mother, but she was facing the Mongrifier and her attention was diverted.

Mongrifer saw the woman standing in front of him and slowed down. He could sense an aura of danger swirling about her like dark snakes. His hunting instinct screamed at him to leave this and get out of there, but there was something called pride and he was not going to back down from this fight.

As the Mongrifier stalked towards her, she placed a card on the ground and said a word. He didn't hear the word, but he saw the card change color from black to a bright red. A bean of red light shot up from it and spread like an umbrella over them. The tendrils of light snaked around, looking for a target, and they found the target in form of Mongrifier.

Fuck, not again, he thought as the red snakes made of light headed for him, wrapping around his limbs and then spreading as far as they could go. So, hung the Mongrifier, up in the air, stretched like a patient on a surgery table.

In his state of fear and anger, the Mongrifier thought of the only place in the worlds that gave him peace.

The library.

His eyes teared up, thinking about prancing through the shelves of books, all neatly arranged and labeled. He could smell the heady aroma of slowly decaying paper and ink. For a moment, he felt as if he was back in the library, hunting down errant dreamers that dared to enter his domain. Then the ropes tugged once more at his limbs, threatening to rip them out of their sockets. He saw the witch below him, holding fast to the magic that had struck him.

Someone slowly walked up behind the woman and raised something high above their head. Through the pain, the Mongrifier smiled.

The hardbound book struck the witch right on the nape of her neck and she went down in a bundle. The red snakes vanished and Mongrifier landed on his feet.

His savior, Lisa held the heavy book in her hands. It was a copy of Gravity's Rainbow. Saved by fiction once again.

“Are you back?” She asked him, still a bit cautious. He knew he had lost control for a while, but the knock from the car had knocked him back into his senses.

He nodded at her and then placed his paw on the black card.

She nodded back. “Back to the library, then?”

He nodded again and poured his will into the black card. The library was the only thing on his mind. He was done with this place and these people.

The card mushroomed into a cloud, enveloping the Mongrifier and once the smoke disappeared, he was gone.

Lisa looked at the woman lying at her feet who was slowly groaning and trying to get up. She raised the hardcover over her head and dropped it on the woman, knocking her back into the land of sleep once again.

--

We're almost at the end folks. Almost there.

The Bait

Jester hid behind a tree and kept Lisa hidden with her. Together, they looked at the scene that slowly unfolded in front of them. The only way to get the Mongrifier back to their side, was to get Mr. Kosmos to undo whatever he had done to the animal. Of course, he was an intelligent creature, but like all intelligent creatures, he was also susceptible to suggestion.

Mr. Kosmos stood absolutely rock still as the Mongrifier woke up and shook his head around to shake the cobwebs of a bad romance novel out of his head. The scenes stuck to him like the overpowering scent of cheap perfume.

The Mongrifier when he rose to his full height was a wonderful beast. All muscles and hair and sharp things poking out of its appendages. A mouth full of teeth stared back at Mr. Kosmos and any moment it could chomp down on him and rip his head off his shoulders.

Mr. Kosmos desperately wished he had the black card there and then. But he didn't. He'd lost it like an idiot and now he was going to pay for it with his life.

His luck, had finally run its course.

He hung his head in shame and in hope of crushing death in the next minute.

Then, headlights of a car bathed the tree where it stood. The screeching sound of an engine filled the air around them. The Mongrifier looked behind him at the source of the sound, and that was when the car hit him.

It plunged into the Mongrifier like a knife, doubling him up on the bonnet of the car as it smashed into a nearby tree.

Mr. Kosmos lifted his head up and saw his mother rushing out of the car and coming for him. In her hand was something he had not expected to see ever again.

A black card.

From behind the tree, Jester sprung into motion. He could not let Kosmos get his hands on the card again. But he had Kosmos' card in his pocket, wrapped all tight in a package made of human skin. 

Two cards, so close to each other and that too in one night. 

Who'd have thought.

----

Some setbacks in real life, but the story must go on. Right? Yeah.

Back In The Crack

The way back was as simple as opening the door and willing himself to be in the world that he had left behind. Things had changed here. He could smell it in the air. There was an electric tinge and aftertaste of ozone in his nostrils. Things had happened here. Good, bad, he didn't really care. He was going to find mother and get the bag of books back from her.

He was not sure earlier. He was scared for his life. He was not thinking straight. But the time spent in the bar had put his head in the right place. He took out the black card from his pocket and thought hard about his mother. The surface of the card lit up. A small dot appeared on the edge of the card with an arrow pointing towards it.

Mr. Kosmos needed to find a ride.

Just then someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and found Jester's fist rushing at his face. His nose broke in an explosion of pain as the punch landed on him like a sledgehammer. Stars swam up in his vision as he fell back on his ass and tears streamed from his eyes as his broken nose made him experience new levels of pain.

“We've been waiting for you, fuckface,” Jester said and punched Mr. Kosmos again.

Lights faded for Mr. Kosmos and the world went a fuzzy black. He woke up after a while to find himself tied to a tree. His arms stretched behind him so far around the tree that he found it a wonder his shoulders had not popped out of their sockets yet. The humiliation of being captured was more than the pain in his nose or his neck. He tugged at his rope tying his hands and realized there was no give. He was not getting out unless something or someone helped him. He didn't even know where the black card was. It was in his hand when Jester punched him, but he had no idea where it fell after that.

Mr. Kosmos hung his head and tried to breathe in through his busted nose. Every breath hurt. It was like breathing through needles in your nose. How long had he been out, he had no idea. And where was Jester? Why hadn't Mongrifier made mincemeat out of these two? His head hurt and he didn't want to think about these things for a while. He just hung there, catching his breath, gathering his thoughts. Thinking what he'd say once he saw the two idiots.

He looked around him. The tree was in a clearing and there was just a mound of rubbish lying near him. He thought maybe he could use something from the rubbish to cut the ropes binding him to tree.

Then the garbage mound stirred. It shook a little and started to move. It looked hairy and big – and it was waking up. A frustrated, angry growl rose from the mound like the starting sound of an engine left on its own for a long time. Mr. Kosmos almost shat himself a little.

---

This story is complete, i am just posting the chapters now. Is anyone still reading or am i just preaching to the graveyard? :D I mean, drop a hi, man!

Time Stream Ninja

Mr. Kosmos ordered another drink at the bar. The thought of his mother would not leave his mind. The drunker he got, the more guilty he felt. Where was she? Was she alright? Why did she disappear like that?

He was such a bad son for leaving her out there and sitting here in this timeline and drinking himself into a stupor.

“Hey, barkeep. I think I am about done here. But I'll have one for the road. Give me your best.”

The barkeep was confused as to why he kept serving this small, overweight, balding football of a man. But the man wanted the best, so he was going to give him the best.

“We've got a Shark-Vod. It's a shot of vodka distilled from shark teeth and contains a small shark swimming in the glass.”

“Shark-vod? Sounds perfect for the road. Be a good man and pour me one.”

He placed the black card on the table again.

The drink was in front of him like a magic trick. He took a look at the tiny shark swimming in the drink. The fin making circles and whorls in the liquid. Hunting the dream of some invisible prey. But who was the hunter here, really?

He gulped down the vodka. The tiny shark crunched in his teeth and the salty taste of shark blood filled his mouth.

He shot off a salute to the bartender and got up from the bar stool. 

It was time to go back. 

It was time to hunt the hunters.

--

Regular updates from now on. 

Promise.

ASIDE -- back from the dead

I was absent from here for whole of November. Not that anyone cared, but as a blogger it is my duty to at least give you, my dear reader, a cursory glance at what I was up to.

I was writing my NaNoWriMo project.

And I could not complete it.

I got busy with other things that actually put money in my bank account. This blog, sadly, doesn't do that.

Anyway, Nano is down in the dumps. Didn't finish it, but i wrote a significant amount of the story.

God willing, that story will see the light of the day. I will make sure of that. This is probably the first time, I am sure about a story and I am going to make it work.

But, there was something called the black card chronicles going on here.

We're going to continue with that and take it to it's somewhat illogical conclusion which will form the end of part one of the whole overarching story.

It's all there in my head.

But leave all that. How have you been doing? Is everything okay? Have you done what you set out to do at the beginning of the year? The year is almost over, you know. And what a 2016 it has been.

Drop me a comment. It will make me happy. If you don't, well, life goes on.

Book Bound

The Mongrifier woke up and he knew instantly that something was wrong with him. 

He could not move. Not a blink. Not a muscle. Everything was locked down. Numb. 

With immense effort that would have broken mountains, he raised an eyelid. All he saw was pages. Pages torn from books all over him. Whoever had done this had also used book glue to paste the pages on his hide. From his nose to tail to his paws to his claws, everything was covered in words.

He could not move, it was so fucking relaxing. Like dipping into a pool of hot water after a cold day, or digging into a feel-good book that is just so good. So good.

Mongrifer's thoughts swam away from him in a pool of blue on some beach as palm trees swung in the slow breeze overhead and the sun set in the bosom of the sea, painting everything in pink, blue, and orange colors.

He was trapped in a period romance novel. Of all kinds of fiction that could have been, they had to entrap him in a romance novel!

It was a hazy existence at best and he slowly and groggily started to chew his way to consciousness out of the book. The plot was stale and formulaic, and some of the characters tasted of cardboard.

But there was the voice of the black card whispering at the back of his mind that he needed to get the people who were trying to separate the black card from its owner. He needed to kill them and rip their limbs from their bodies in the most painful way.

In his sleep, the Mongrifier chewed and chewed till his gums bled. He groaned and moaned as but he still ate through the story. The plot of the book turned into itself, characters lived, died and fornicated with each other and just when it was all about to end, there was a cliffhanger.

With a growing horror, he realized that he was eating through a trilogy.

This was going to take some time.

--

All this ends on 31st October. Stay with me on this.

Unleashed

As the Mongrifier loomed behind Lisa, Jester knew something was wrong. A strange keening sound issued from the Mongrifier's throat and a rush of adrenaline jolted Jester's heart as he knew it was time for round two. He was going to skin this son of a bitch right this time. He flicked his arm and the knife fell into his waiting palm.

“Lisa,” he said as he ran towards her, “duck!”

He jumped over Lisa, the knife in his outstretched hand and the Mongrifier lunged for him in full stride. The two crashed into each other and rolled to the ground in a heap of flashing blades and claws.

Lisa also knew something was wrong and she started looking through her satchel for the book she needed, but it was nowhere to be found. If any one of those killed the other, her work to find her primary bag of books would be in vain. If only that fucking pervert had not scratched her leg in that bus.

The sounds of fighting increased in volume behind her as the two cut and slashed each other up like psycho monkeys. This would not last very long till one of them was deader than a brick. She had to stop this, and she had to stop this now. But where was her book?

Fuck this, she said to herself and took out two small paperbacks from her bag. If not a hardcover, then the paperbacks will have to do. She held the paperbacks together and flipped their pages into each other creating a single massive book in her hands.

“Hey, puppy! Smell this!” She slammed the jammed together books on the ground raising dust and attracting the attention of the Mongrifier. The smell of old books that rose from the pages was like cocaine to the senses of the beast. At once disinterested in Jester, he swatted aside the man, and made his way for the books. He sat down near the books and opened the front page with a sharp claw. Behind him, Jester picked himself up from the ground and dusted his clothes and saw the Mongrifier eating the pages from the books like he was feasting on some exotic delicacy.

Lisa stood behind the Mongrifier, frozen in fear and she looked at Jester and mouthed, “the big book” at him. Jester knew where he had thrown the book before the Mongrifier appeared. He slowly stepped back and found the book lying behind some bushes.

“Bash him on the head!” Lisa mouthed at him.

“Gladly,” thought Jester and slammed the book as hard as he could on the Mongrifier's head. Mongrifier looked at Jester once, then his eyes rolled back in his skull and he fell to the ground, with a book's page still stuck in his teeth.

“Did I kill him?” Jester asked, unable to mask the hope in his voice.

“Thankfully, no, you sick man,” Lisa said. “He is only stunned, but he will wake up soon. We need a way to restraint him or we're done for.”

--

This is chapter 16 according to my count. I have written down three more chapters and the story is going along at a good clip. 

The Lost Book

Jester pushed the book away from his face. Lisa looked at him like he was some kind of alien piece of shit. Which was not far from truth, but what of it?

“You want to know why I don't read books?”

“Enlighten me.”

“Because books are full of useless imagined things of others and real life is much weirder than anything, anyone can imagine. Every time you bury your nose in a book, you're peeling yourself away from reality and living in a make-believe world that doesn't do anyone any good except the people who are making money off the books that you're reading. You're not even creating your own world, you're living in someone else's borrowed and diseased imagination that is created by tropes and formulas to make you feel at home, to make you feel things that can be hundred times magnified but you choose to ignore that. You choose to ignore your life and your purpose, and keep reading book after book after book because real life, is fucking terrible in all its beauty.”

Then Jester did something horrible. He took the book from Lisa's hand and threw it away as hard as it could.

Lisa's eyes went wide and lower lip quivered.

“That was extremely rude of you, Mr. J. I wish I could unhear those words but they'll stay with me till the day I die.”

Jester simply rolled his eyes. “It's just books, why'd get your emotions in a tangle over a bunch of words on paper.”

“Because to some of us, those words are life!”

“Life? Life is not in the books! Life is outside the books! You're living second hand through the books. Burn your books today and get out of the house and do non book things! Live, for fuck's sake!”

“I don't believe a single word you say. You're not going to convince me to whatever is on your mind. I need my books and I am going to get them one way or the other. Once the Mongrifier gets the card from that perverted man, I'll be on my way and we'll never see each other again.”

“Who the hell said I wanted to see you again, you deluded woman.”

“Oh, you would when one day you need to read a book and there is no one you know who'd tell you the right book to read. You'll be crawling on your knees to the steps of my library and I'd tell you to shut the fuck up and crawl back to whichever hole you dropped from.”

Jester was about to retort when the air behind Lisa blurred and the large form of the Mongrifier emerged from the blurring air. 

“Ah, I see the puppy is back.” Jester smiled at the shape.

Would You Still Love Me

The steel door opened just a wink and the Mongrifier was upon the door in a flash. From the semblance of sleep to a lightening quick blur, he was inside the door climbing over the prone form of whoever had dared to open the door. The corridor inside was dimly lit and it stank of stale beer and piss. The Mongrifier was not used to the smells and he wanted to be out of there as soon as possible. But the overpowering stink of the man was there too. He was there to get that man.

The low corridor lead to another door that he simply pushed open. It opened into a large, dimly lit room where tables were placed at random. Somewhere in the room, some music was playing and the soft murmur of illegal conversations swam in the smoky air like bad memories.

Mongrifier focused on the stench of the man they called Kosmos. He slowly walked through the room, the people didn't give him much notice, they were too lost in their miseries to notice the wolf beast walking through them. The man though noticed the presence of the Mongrifier.

He turned around on his stool and looked at the Mongrifier right in the eyes.

“Hey, puppy, I've got a job for you.” The man flashed his black card and he became a blurred thing in front of the Mongrifier's eyes. His voice boomed in his ears and the words sounded sweet like honey and lover's sighs.

“You need to go back and kill the grey man. He's giving me a bit of a bother. Oh, and while you're at it, bring me my bag of knives from the girl. If she resists, off her too.”

Something about the orders sounded weird to the Mongrifier, but the voice was so convincing he just had to do what it said. He turned around and walked back the way he had come.

Mr. Kosmos ordered another beer and sipped it slow and cool like a villain. He was turning out to be one and he liked it a lot.

Jester sat with Lisa and listened to her talk about books. She was a reader and he felt that no matter how many books she'd read, she was boring as fuck. But they were here and there was nothing to do but wait so he pretended to listen and hmm and haww at the right moments. Maybe I should just kill her right here and right now and no one would know. He thought about the wolf thing, and felt he could take care of it too.

Long shot. He'd have trouble finding the black card without these two. His experience with shifting time lines was not so good. It made him sick as fuck and he felt horrible for months. He was locked into this and he didn't feel too good about it.

She was talking about long books and characters that meant little to him. She just could not fathom that the man might not be interested in her jabbering about the things she was interested in. He took out the knife from his sleeve and started to dig through his nails. She didn't take the hint and kept on talking. Then she took out a book from her bag and started to flip through the pages.

She pushed the page in Jester's face and he had to push it away a bit to see what was on the page.

It was then that Jester realized that he didn't know how to read.

---

Apologies are in order. 

I've been slacking in posting these updates. But no more. We finish this story by 1st of november so I can dig into the Nanowrimo.

Hunters and Killers

The Mongrifier stopped and sniffed the air. In his mind, the air stank of ignorance, anger and bad decisions. It bugged him to no end. But all around him was an empty field where small shrubs grew and the ground was flat as far as his enhanced eyesight could see. The man and the girl were somewhere behind him, still chasing while he had followed the scent to this place.

The stench of that man's ignorance was strong here. It came to him in pulses, as if from a carcass. But there was nothing here! The Mongrifier focused all his senses. Maybe the stench was not coming from a here, but from a when. But when? When could go in both future or the past, if the when was not now.

Decisions, decisions.

His gut feeling told him to seek in the future and the Mongrifier blurred from where he was standing. The world around him became clearer, more present, more there as he found himself staring at the steel door of a back alley staircase. He padded up to the door and nudged it. It opened outwards, and he'd have to wait for someone to come out before he could go in. The stench was stronger here. He was close to his prey. The Mongrifier curled up around himself and closed his eyes. He looked asleep to any casual observer, but he was tense as a guitar string and ready to pounce the first moment he saw some activity.

Lisa walked with Jester to the spot where they'd last seen the Mongrifier. A faint smell of old books hung in the air, but other than that the place looked sad and totally normal.

“I can swear he was just here a minute ago. Where could he have gone? Should I call out to him?”

Jester bent down to the ground and picked up some dirt and sniffed it. Timestream residue. He'd only heard about such a thing, but he knew what it smelled like. And this was definitely it. The smell of old books.

“Your puppy dog, it seems has slipped through the time streams. He's not here. Or better put, he is not in the now.”

“But then where could he be? I am worried about him, Mr. Jester.”

“My guess is, either he is in the future or the past, or maybe he is in some timeline that runs parallel to our world. But here, he is not.”

“What do you suggest we should do now?”

“We can wait and maybe you can answer some questions I have.”

---

I am forcing this ahead of schedule, one chapter here, but i have three more chapters already done. Let's see if i can finish this under 12-13k words.

Reasons Are For Peasants

Jester picked up one of the knives from the bag. It seemed sharp and dangerous enough to do the things he had in mind. He slipped the knife in the sleeve of his shirt, the metal felt cool against his skin and he felt assured that the next time the dog thing looked at him sideways, he was going to slice the jugular out of the beast. And then he'd skin the girl and wear her face for his next mission. Wherever it took him. So, yes. The knife was going to play a crucial role in his plans.

Mongrifier was not comfortable in this timeline. First, there was the grey man. His energies were off the charts, and he stank like a carcass of a man who'd never read a book in his life. Filthy offal that the Mongrifier would never sink his teeth in. The girl on the other hand was alright. She was a reader. And she smelled of old books, so delicious and serene that the thought alone made the Mongrifier's mouth fill up with saliva. He needed her help to get back to his timeline. So he'd eat her when the time was right and he was going to take his time in ripping chunks of bookish flesh from her bones, and then he'd chomp down on the bones till his gums bled.

Lisa somehow felt she belonged for the first time in her life. She had always been the outsider, but with the wolf-beast things and the nice man with the dazzling smile, she felt she was among her people. Now all that remained was to track down the fat pervert, and get her bag of books back. He'd run away, as Mr. Jester told her, but they had the wolf-beast with them and tracking him would not be too difficult.

The trio walked out of the motel, led by the Mongrifier. Each with their own motive in their minds. But one goal, for now. To find the man called Mr. Kosmos and get his black card and bag of books.

----

Mr. Kosmos placed the card on the table. "One beer, please."

The barkeep took one look at the card, something irked his mind and he wanted to protest, but the man wanted a beer. He filled a mug from the tap on the counter and placed it on a paper napkin in front of the man. He kept wanting to ask the man for money, but when he looked at the card on the counter, the thought fled like a rabbit chased by a fox. He smiled uneasily at the fat man who'd swallowed the beer like a man lost in the desert.

"Another one," he said and belched loud. The barkeep filled another mug while confusing thoughts fought for control in his head.

After the third beer, thoughts started to coalesce in Mr. Kosmos' head like a jigsaw puzzle slowly coming together on its own. He knew there were two people and one demon on his trail and he had to find his mother, too. Too much on my plate, he thought and wiped the sweat on his head with his hand. He needed help on this. He'd not be able to pull this alone. He dreaded the option that was staring him in the face. He'd have to make the call. He was going to hate it, he was going to hate what came next, but his options were limited and his time, he felt, was running out.

"Can I have your phone, please?" he asked the barkeep.

"Sure, man." The barkeep took out his phone from his pocket and put it in front of Mr. Kosmos.

"Thanks, buddy. What's the pin?" Mr. Kosmos said as he picked the phone and hit lock button. The barkeep rattled off a number and Mr. Kosmos unlocked the phone.

He thought for a second and then dialed the number from memory. The phone rang thrice and he was about to put down the phone when the ringing stopped and a gruff, tired voice said "Hello" at the other end. The tone of voice made his legs turn to jelly and he was glad he was sitting on the stool.

"Hi, dad. It's me. I need your help."

--------

Chapter 12, so it goes. When things fuck up, call dad. 

Strange Bedfellows

A strange hush fell over the room like a dark shroud. The Mongrifier sulked in a corner, licking his wounds while the man knows as Jester tore off a piece of bed-sheet to tie on a horrible looking slash on his forearm. The girl walked into the room and sat on the only chair that had somehow survived the fight between the two.

“Hello,” she said to the Mongrifier, “nice to see you outside of my dreams.” The Mongrifier hissed at her. “And you, sir? Who'd you be.”

Jester tied off a trailing end of his makeshift bandage and glared at her. He knew that in a few more moments he'd have sliced off the animal bad enough for it to bleed to death, but the girl's presence had acted as a damper on the atmosphere in the room.

“Name is Jester. At your service. For now.”

“Well, Mr. Jester. I believe the man who escaped from this room has something that all of us want. He has some books that belong to me.”

“I need to take back a black card that's in his possession,” Jester said.

The Mongrifier growled a low growl.

“You haven't told us your name.”

“I am Lisa. I had a disagreement with the gentleman in question some time ago and he proceeded to leave with a bag of very important books that belonged to me. He left me his bag that I brought with me to return to him, but now he's gone and so are my books.”

“How did you find him here?”

“Let's say, my connection with the books is very strong. And I had also left my spare phone in the bag that allowed me to track it to this very motel.”

“Can I see the man's bag? Maybe I can find some clue to his whereabouts that you might have missed.”

“As long as we're all going in the same direction, be my guest.”

She walked out of the room and came back with a bag that was neat and very very black. The vibes from the bag set Jester's teeth on edge and it also made him deathly curious about the bag's contents. He attacked the bag like a fat boy attacks cake on a birthday party.

Lisa walked up to the Mongrifier with a cloth and some water in a bowl and started to clean his wounds. The big animal snarled at her but once he realized that she was trying to help him, he let her clean the stab and slash wounds.

From the other side of the room, she heard Jester start to laugh. Laughter bubbled up from his throat to his mouth like lava and filled the small room with the mirthful sound that seemed as alien as a prayer in a whorehouse.

“Knives! Fucking knives! This fucking bag is full of fucking knives! Oh my fucking god! Just look at these babies!” He laughed and laughed as he took the knives from the bag and started laying them down on the carpet in perfect symmetry. He touched them with an affection and reverence that made Lisa doubt her decision of showing him the bag.

“Miss Lisa,” he looked at her, “I am going to help you find that man and we're going to get the bag of your books back from him and then we're going to send that puppy back to where it came from.”

Lisa scratched the Mongrifier behind his ears as the big animal leaned into her hand and she smiled an uneasy smile at Jester.

–

The truck was parked on top of the hill overlooking the city. Its headlights shone bright over the darkness like twin eyes of a demon from hell. The woman sat in front of the truck and opened the bag. She took out a hardbound book and opened it.

“Well, Mr. Kibbles,” she said, “it's time I read you your bedtime story.”

Mr. Kibbles yawned like the devil and snuggled closer to the woman to listen to the story.

-----------------------------

This is something like Chapter 11 according to my calculations. Thank you very much!

The Night of Knives

The world was new to the Mongrifier. but even he knew a threat when he saw one. The grey man had a knife to the throat of the man who was messing about in his library. The man who was his prey. No way was he letting the grey man make the kill instead of him.

The grey man looked at the Mongrifier with something like a smile on his face. Most people didn't smile when they looked at the Mongrifier. The man turned and faced the Mongrifier.

"This puppy?" his voice has a deep baritone to it that made the Mongrifier want to roll down on his back and go to sleep, but he shook his head. Not now. The strange man was after his prey. That was not happening on his watch.

"I come from so far away, looking for the black card, and all you offer me as a counter is this puppy?"

His smile turned to laughter and he doubled over as a surprised Mongrifier and a fazed Mr. Kosmos looked on. Mr. Kosmos chose that moment to slide out of the bed and down onto the floor, trying to get away from the commotion that was about to happen.

Jester's hand shot like a cobra and grabbed hold of Mr. Kosmos' night shirt.

"Not so soon. You're not going anywhere. You still haven't answered my question." The knife in his other hand hovered dangerously close to Mr. Kosmos' eyeball. Something moved in corner of Jester's vision and before he could react, the wolf-like creature slammed into him with the force of a mini truck. Mr. Kosmos chose that moment to scuttle away and out of the motel room as the two figures tangled in a mess of snarls, fangs, and flashes of a sharp knife. He had to get mother from the other room and get the hell out of here. He had done what the black card wanted him to do and this would probably be the end of his troubles. He hoped. The card was still in the pocket of his pajamas and he touched it to feel a surge of positivity rush into his veins. He was going to make it through.

He knocked on the door of the motel room where his mother was staying. The unlocked door swung open at his touch. His mother was nowhere to be seen. Her luggage was gone. He ran to the parking lot and saw that the truck he had stolen was gone too. The rush of positivity in him hissed out like air from a punctured balloon.

The sounds of crashing and howling from his room were now getting louder. Something thumped hard into one of the walls and in a flash he saw the wolf-thing's head exit from a window as if punched through. The creature shook its head, snarled, and dove back into the room.

Mr. Kosmos turned the other way and ran into the night.

Inside the room, the Mongrifier was not having a good time of dealing with this critter of a human being. The grey man was good with the knife and so far he had managed to stick the Mongrifier multiple time, but the Mongrifier had also slashed the man plenty and it was going to take just one more hit to take the man's head off his shoulders and then Mongrifier could go back to his library and his books.

The man faked lunging with the knife once more and the Mongrifier took a defensive stance against the gleaming blade. They circled each other around the broken furniture in the room when a knock on the door distracted the man. His eyes flicked to the door for a moment and the Mongrifier was on him, grabbing the man's knife hand in his jaw and shaking the knife loose. He put one large paw on the man's chest and started to press, waiting for his ribs to crack and pierce his heard.

The door opened and the library girl stood there looking at the havoc inside the room. She spoke and her voice was inside the Mongrifier's head.

"Don't kill that man. We're going to need him if you want to go back to the library."
---

I've been thinking all week where to take this and now I think I have a fair idea. Are you having fun reading? Throw me some feedback in the comments. It helps. A yes or no will do, too.

A Dream Activates

The Mongrifier growled and spat as he stalked the bookshelves looking for books.

The last time that girl had dropped a bookshelf on him and now there was another in his domain.

Why couldn't a creature of darkness get any peace? He just wanted to eat some books and digest the stories so he could sleep.

But no!

These humans! Dreaming of the libraries through ancient threads -- always managed to disturb his sleep and when he tried to shoo them away, they vanished.

He picked up a book from a shelf and tore a chunk of paper from it. He digested the story in his mouth. It was about a boy with a scar on his forehead. The alliterations on the pages got stuck in his teeth like fish scales and he spat those out. He chewed some more and started to feel drowsy with the effect the book was having on his brain.

Then he heard the footsteps. "Fucking hell," he thought, "not again."

Mr. Kosmos walked through the bookshelves, looking up at the shelves as they vanished somewhere in the darkness above him. This was the second night he was dreaming of the library and he was not even a reader. The musty smell of old books was everywhere. What little light shone through the windows told him the time was somewhere between evening and night. He looked out of the large glassed windows, but he didn't see anything he could recognize. He stepped ahead carefully, making as little noise as possible. Last time he had seen the lupine creature lunge for him and woken up. This time, he didn't want to face the creature. One instance was enough for him.

He felt for the black card in his pocket and it thrummed assuringly against his fingers. The surge of confidence from the touch of the card told him that he could take on the creature and whatever it brought to him and then rule the library as the Supreme Librarian.

He looked at the books on the shelves. There were hardbound editions in languages he didn't know. Gold and silver adorned the spines of the books with thick letter in alien languages naming the books and authors, he hoped. There was not even a single book in any language he recognized. He took a turn and saw another row of shelves going as far as the eye could see.

Maybe I am in the wrong section, he thought. The black card in his pocket was starting to feel warm and he took it out and placed it in his hand. A small line of LED lights lit up on the card. It made an arrow. He had never seen the card do something like this, but then again, most of the things the card did were beyond his understanding anyway. He followed the arrow as it changed directions, from bookshelves to dusty rows and cobwebs and the stench of rotting stories.

He walked deeper into the library, listening for any sound from the demonic creature he had seen. The books started to whisper to him. Soft susurrations, that called out to him and told him to pick the books up, but the card kept him focused. There were times when he felt pulled too strongly, but the card's shard edges in his hand brought him back to following the directions on the surface of the card.

He walked for hours. Seemingly lost, but the card still kept leading him. The library must be kilometers in area, he thought. How many, he had no idea how to calculate.Then the arrows on the card pointed to a book shelf. There were books in English on that shelf. He recognized some of the titles, but most were alien names to him.

Right in the  middle of the stacks, a book -- black as a brick, it sucked all the light like a black hole. He raised his hand towards the book and felt the hair on the nape of his neck rise in a fear. Something was watching him.

His finger touched the book and he heard a low growl behind him. Angry and it seemed like it had a lot of teeth. He grabbed the book and started to pull it out of the book shelf.

Right then, the black card pricked his hand and he dropped it. A moment of panic and all his confidence vanished like vapor. He bent down to pick the card and something large moved in the area where his head was and slammed into the bookshelf, toppling it, throwing books all around. With just the book with black spine in his hand.

He looked at the thing that stared right at him with hatred in its eyes. He looked back at the demon and growled a sound that was a pretty strong imitation of the menacing growl emerging from the demon's throat.

The creature lunged at Mr. Kosmos and he opened the black book.

The world around him froze in a snowglobe mimicry. The big demon wolf, sprawling in air, reaching for his head with claws outstretched, maw of doom open, salivating, madness in its eyes. His own hand shielding the black card with his body with the open black book in front of him.

Everything started to melt in a fever dream of black and blue. Mr. Kosmos knew he was going to wake up, he braced himself and woke up with a scream to find a dark knife hovering inches from his throat.

A man with a rictus grin on his face had the knife in his hand.

"Well, well, well, I was just about to cut your throat in your sleep. But now that you're awake, maybe you can tell me where the black card is."

"Why don't you ask that thing?" Mr. Kosmos pointed behind the smiling man.

The Mongrifier's low growl filled the small motel room.

---
Don't go walking in libraries in dreams, you might bring back creatures that do not really belong in our world.

Jester's Lament

"Hey, wake up."

Jester kicked the man who was lying on the sidewalk in a drunken sprawl. The man made an animal sound but didn't stir. The sounds from a nearby bar were like ghost whispers in this corner of the street.

It was late and the man had had his fill of alcohol. Right now, he was not good for anything except his specific skills. He was an important man. Few had the talent that he possessed. Jester had a question and he knew he'd have to get it answered the old fashioned way.

He sat down on his haunches near the man and took out his switchblade. He flicked the knife open and cut a sliver of red in the man's open palm. The man's eyes opened instantly. His pupils were jet black and darkness swirled like a witch's potion in his eyes. Jester avoided looking directly into the man's eyes.

The voice that emerged from his throat was guttural grating of knives on hard bones.

"Dark Knife, what do you seek?"

Jester groaned at the name. He'd not been called that in ages. It was an old and lost name that he hoped would stay buried. But it sprung up at him like a rotting corpse from a casket when he least expected it.

"There is a black card in the wild, he said, "and I need to know its location."

"Black black black card. Wild so wild. A bus, then mud then truck then flames. Beware the Mongrifier. Don't read books. Drugs doom boom boom batman..."

The man droned on.

Jester got up and started walking in the direction of the bar. He had the answers he needed. He was going to hunt down that card no matter what. The man called to him again. Jester vanished in the darkness.

----
Mr. Kosmos was in a library.

Something chased him. Big paws attached to a violent killing machine. It padded through the darkness, slamming into the bookshelves here and there, knocking down books.

He felt the maw of fear clench onto his heart. He tripped on a fallen hardcover and managed to twist and land on his back. The monster was upon him. A paw pressed his chest with the ability to crush his ribs and puncture his heart.

He cried out in fear and woke up.

Mr. Kibbles was sitting on his chest.

He'd never wanted so badly to skin a cat.

----
This is definitely going somewhere. Typed on my phone so point out any typos in comments and I'll correct those.

The Book Bitch

Lisa got down from the bus and waited for the porter to get her suitcase out of the belly of the bus.

She imagined the bus as some ancient leviathan, ferrying passengers from unknown places to where they were actually meant to be, swallowing them up and regurgitating them at their destinations.

She was still lost in her thoughts when she noticed the porter was looking at her.

He was also saying something.

She switched her mental frequencies back to Planet Earth and heard the words, "...is this your bag?"

It was and it wasn't.

It was the only bag left there and it looked remarkably similar to her own bag. But there were certain things that were missing. Her "Book Bitch" badge that was supposed to be on the side of the bag and another label that simply said "Prose Before Hoes". They were missing, ergo, this bag was not hers.

But it was the only bag left and she was the only passenger left, so it had to be hers.

She was still confused at what to say when the porter placed the bag near her. "Look, miss, I can't wait here forever. We need to get the bus cleaned up for the return journey."

"Buh-but, I don't think that th-this is my bag!" Lisa said.

"Well, I don't really care," the porter scratched his nose, "it is totally your problem now."

Anger, like a flash flood, roared through her ears and she slammed the first thing she had in her on the porter's face. It was a hardcover of "Of Human Bondage".

"Ow," the porter yelled, "bitch! Why'd you do that for!"

"You lost my fucking bag, you numbskull dimwitted dumb motherfucker. I only have this book with me and some stranger's bag. How else the fuck do you suppose I will feel. I'd shove this book up your ass but I am not done reading this."

"Jesus, woman. Look into the bag if it's not yours. Maybe someone has your bag and they have their contact information somewhere in there."

"I was going to do that only," she lied, "once you got the fuck out of my face."

The porter's nose was bleeding badly by now and he looked like a cartoon vampire with blood streaming down his chin. He held on to his nose with one hand and shot her the finger with the other hand.

"Good luck," he mumbled, "bitch."

Lisa raised the hardcover to hit him again, but he was already scuttling off like a beaten puppy. She picked up the bag and took it to the bus shelter next to the bus stop.

Deep breathes, she told herself. Deeeeep breaths.

Once she had calmed down enough, she opened the bag. It was a simple bag with a zipper on top that opened up to reveal different compartments in the bag. She knew because her bag was the same and she had kept some of her best books in the bag. The other books were going to reach her university residences through a book porting company.

But this bag, it was full of knives. All gleaming clean and sharp with the promise of bloodshed. There were all kinds of knives in the bag. From tiny scalpels to a large butcher's knife. There was a swiss knife neatly tucked into a pouch meant for keeping pens and there was a bowie knife placed at the bottom of the bag. There were knives she had never seen and some knives that didn't even look remotely like a knife. Some knives were only blades and the others were only ornate, complex and futuristic looking handles.

There was an ID card in the bag. She picked it up and looked at the man in the picture.

"Fuck me," she sighed.

--
"Son, would you be a darling and peel this apple for me?"

Their car was stuck in traffic and they had not moved an inch in the last one hour. Mr. Kosmos took the apple from her mother and opened the zipper of his bag that was lying under his seat. He took out the first thing that his hand chanced upon. It was not a knife, it was a book.

"Fuck me!" he yelled out of sheer shock of WTF.

Mr. Kibbles woke up in his mother's lap and hissed at him.

----------------------------------------
So, we got the train rolling once again. Two in two days! This is going along nicely, no? There might be some discrepancies here and there, but I'll apply my Author's License there.

Any feedback, comments, criticisms? Leave me a comment!

Thanks for reading!

Mother

The last few hours home are always the longest. Mr. Kosmos drove with his hands on ten and two position on the wheel, but his mind was elsewhere.

The road became a blur in his head. The scenery whipping past, with the sameness that bordered on dejected boredom. He kept thinking about the girl who had gotten him thrown off the bus. He'd have to go back and exchange a word or two with the girl about her behavior. He made a mental note about visiting the bus company and finding out the girl's home and office address.

A road sign coming up in the distance caught his eye and shook him out of his mental reverie. He turned the steering wheel and took a road that led to the village where his mother lived. It had been some time since he had visited her and it irked his conscience that he was not visiting he at a better time. He had picked some cookies for her from the bakery next to his office. He knew she liked the coconut flavored cookies. He didn't know how long he was going to stay with her, but he had taken the week off from work and he had the time.

He took another turn and headed for the road to his mother's house. He smelled the smoke before he saw the flames rising in a distance. His heart dropped in the pit of his stomach like a brick and his foot automatically pressed harder on the accelerator.

There was a small crowd gathered outside his mother's house. The house, or what remained of it, was up in flames. The fire danced devilishly on the doors, windows, and walls of the house. He hurried out of the truck and ran towards the house, scanning through the crowd for some face he knew or someone who'd give him some information on what had happened here.

Then he saw his mother standing there with her shawl wrapped on her shoulder and her infernal cat nestled in the crook of her arm. He breathed for the first time since he had seen the smoke. He almost wanted to fall down on his knees and start crying but he knew mother would hate that.

His mother had the most beatific smile on her face. He went to her and tried to hug her but the cat hissed at him.

"Hello, son," his mother said as she shusshed the cat in the same breath.

"Mother...what happened here? Are you ok?"

"I am fine. Absolutely fine. I just set fire to the house to get rid of the rats in there."

"Mom?"

"Oh, you know, I can't have Mr. Kibbles running around under the house hunting rats! He is too precious to be doing that." She stroked the cat's head and the animal purred.

Mr. Kosmos felt a nerve flicker in his head.

"Well, I think I'll come and stay with you for some time then."

She started walking towards the truck. "Get my bags, dear."

Mr. Kosmos looked at the five bags that were neatly arranged near to where his mother was standing.

He sighed and picked up the first bag.

It was heavy.

Still Here, Still Alive

Man, last post on this blog was on April 29! Makes me sad. I've been busy. BUT, I've been writing poems on my Poetry blow, www.fubarpoems.blogspot.com, so if you're of a poetic bent of mind, you can head over there and have a look.

Why didn't I update this blog, when I updated Poetry quite a lot. Well, first off, I wanted to write more about Mr. Kosmos and his adventures/misadventures, but the story somehow didn't lift off the way I wanted it to. Life got in the way, I got busy with things like making some money and paying my bills and let's not beat around the bush, you can't really force your mind to be creative when you're living a dull, insipid life. But that's how it goes. If a story needs to be told, it will be told, but if it doesn't, you can bleed at the keyboard and not write another word. Because if you force it, it will show.

So, what now. Either I start writing shorts here again or I pick this one up and take it to its rightful end. I am not really sure what I will do, but I am just throwing some kindling on the dying embers of this blog and fanning the flames a bit. Maybe I'll rant here. Maybe I'll write the story in next post. I have a few ideas floating around in my head. None of which would make anyone happy, but I doubt if anyone is reading blogs these days. People are busy dying while catching pokemon and getting fucked up offended by opinions of strangers on social media, or they're spreading misinformation and stupidity through facebook and whatsapp.

I seriously think they should take a written as well as a psychological profile test before giving people an Internet connection. This will not only improve the state of online discourse but it will also help to weed out the mentally ill people in society and we can then send them off to gas chambers...

But stories, oh yeah, we write stories on this blog.

Be back with that shit in a while. Kick me in comments if I don't write here in two days from now.

A short aside

Hey, anyone reading this, well, there are some fishy websites that are pirating my first ebook of short stories 13 Days of Nothing.

Don't click on the links of those websites. They're mostly scams and they just want to make you jump through hoops and not even give you a free download.

You can download the book from kindle store on Amazon or you can ask me for q copy. But seriously, don't go to those read online free or download ePub type of websites. God knows what kind of shit they'll put on your computer.

Yeah, so all my ebooks are available on Amazon or directly from me.

Peace out!

The Story of You - Kindle ebook

Download from here

 

I wrote The Story of You long time ago. It's about a dream, and it takes the reader, that is you, through an adventure of finding out your name. So, are you able to find your name and what are the strange things chasing after you? Which lover stalks you as you make your way through the endless dreamlands? 

It is a short book. More like a short story, but those who've read it have told me it reads "very trippy". That's a good thing I guess. Give it a whirl if you must. It's what 1$ on amazon store. 

If you don't want to buy it but you want to read it, get in touch with me and we can arrange a copy for you. But how to get in touch, figure it out. Leave me a comment or send me an email or be clever about it ;)

Cheers! 

Regular storytelling resumes from next post!

Report on Jungle's Free Downloads

Books are not easy. Not easy to write, not easy to read, and definitely not easy to promote. With Jungle, instead of putting it out for free for five days, I made it free for just two. 

My thinking behind this was that just two days of downloads will made more people download that book because with five days, people might get lazy and things kind of begin to slide out of their focus whenever you promote your work repeatedly on social platforms.

For Jungle, I didn't have twitter to push the links to people. Sure, I had Instagram, Snapchat and Tumblr, but my maximum followers are on Twitter, so it kinda felt like fighting with a hand and leg tied behind my back. I really thought I'd be able to get traction with Insta and Snap, but I was wrong. Sure, these platforms are good for long term concepts, but for flash sales or two day download window, nothing hits harder than Twitter, I guess. 

In the two days, first day, Jungle racked up 25 downloads, second day 24 downloads, and 2 downloads in the remnant of the day. So, a total of 53 people have read the book. My math is right, shut up. 

I won't say I am disappointed, but I am not very happy with the numbers. I guess it's not enough how much heart you put in your work, you have to sell the sizzle before you sell the sausage. It was a learning experience anyway. 

I hope all of those who downloaded the book enjoyed it. The next one is something different, it's called The Story of You. And it'll be out before this month is over. 

More soon. As always, any feedback or thoughts are welcome in comments. 

Check Out My Kindle Book -- Jungle

Link --> Jungle by Pallav

So, this above is the link to the ebook I've been working on for past some months. Yeah, it takes that long to write something that's only 13000 words. 

Here's my elevator pitch that might make you want to buy this book. 

- If you're bored of complex books with tons of characters and lessons of morality, this book is for you. 
- If you're bored of books that never seem to finish, this book is for you. 
- If you like your fiction sharp and your characters wicked, this book is for you. If you like action movies, this book is for you. 
- If you like pop culture references, this book is for you. 
- If you're an overall cool dude/dudette with an open mind, I want to put this book in your brainpan. You owe it to yourself to read it.
- If you like characters breaking the fourth wall in a book, go ahead and download.

Some things this book has
- horrible death(s)
- advanced swearing
- excessive violence
- bad guys
- one exploding helicopter
- whores
- guns
- one weapon of mass destruction
- a story that is pure action
- evil
- nice descriptions of jungle
- pictures of your kidnapped family 
- so buy this fucking book already

This is a book with no lessons in it (maybe), but I can promise you this, it is a fun book. If you manage to read till the end, you'd want to go back and read it again. At least some parts.

Here's the deal, the ebook is going to be free on 13th and 14th April. That's Wednesday and Thursday. Mark your calendars. Two full days, 48 complete hours. After that it'll go back to being at 0.99 cents or 66 INR or whatever currency works in your part of the world where Amazon sells this one. You can download it now and read it as and when you like. 

How and Where You Can Read This Book
1) If you've got a kindle, then you know the whole deal, you download the book and it appears by magic on your kindle and you're good to go. 

2) If you don't have a kindle, you probably have a smartphone or a tablet. You can download the kindle app for your smartphone/tablet, buy the book from the link above and if you're signed into your kindle app with the same Amazon account from which you bought the book, magic! Book is on your device. Download kindle app for android from here and for iOS from here. 

3) You do not have a smartphone that can run the kindle app? Fear not, you have a browser! (I know you do cuz you're reading this blog). Go to www.read.amazon.com and login with the same Amazon account as the one you bought the book with. And you'll see the book there. 

Now, I understand there are some countries where Amazon doesn't sell Kindle books or maybe you missed the promotion period or maybe you don't have a credit/debit card right now. 

That's fine. Drop me a line on Instagram (www.instagram.com/pa11av) or Snapchat or send me a message on my tumblr. All else failing, leave a comment here and we'll figure out what to do about that. 

Here's the link to the book again, http://www.amazon.in/dp/B01E31KZSI and I hope you click it, read it, enjoy it and leave me a review. 

You can also check the book out on Goodreads here. And if you do none of the above, please add the book to your Want To Read pile on Goodreads. 

Any reviews, any shoutouts, any feedback (positive only) will be highly appreciated. 

That's about it, that's all I had to say. For now. 

Happy reading :)

Coming Soon on Kindle

The Cabal

"We need to find the black card." The fat man took a bite out of the thick chicken leg he held in his hand. Grease dripped down his chin and on his shirt, but he chewed on and kept speaking. 

"This is fucking unacceptable. No time in history has the black card been absent and away from our eyes for so long."

The woman sitting in front of him snorted with disgust as she sipped wine that was older than her. And that was saying something. 

"We'll find the card, Porco. Our people are already looking for it and they'll even die for the card if it pushes it in circulation again."

"Cocotte, you underestimate the power of the black card. It cannot be taken by force. The card won't allow it. The passing has to be a given event. And we don't know how powerful the card has become after being in possession of a single person for so long." 

Porco bit into the chicken bone and crunched it in his massive jaw. He chewed it slowly, waiting for Cocotte to reply. Almost daring her to say something that would offend him and give him the excuse to bite her head off. He had been looking for an excuse for past 300 years, maybe tonight would be the night. 

Cocotte moved her neck clockwise and drained her glass of wine. It went down her throat like snake venom, burning and scaling all the way down to the pit of her stomach where the tiny mechanical worms in her gut started to work on the wine.

"Now listen, you motherfu..." 

The sound of the door opening stopped the words on her lips. Porco was almost out of his chair with his jaw opening to attack her.

The door opened and the Jester walked in. 

"Ah, I see you kids started without me! How very unhospitable of you!" He was dressed in all black. The cloth rippling over his body like liquid darkness. It hurt your eyes to look at him for more than a few seconds. The rippling of the cloth made him look like he was really not there, like he was part of some ancient dreamscape relayed to this reality through damaged satellites with rusty antennas. 

He smiled at the two and took a chair. He spun the chair on its legs and straddled it. 

"So, the black card is missing, huh. Who'd have thought that something would fuck up the grand scheme we'd going on for such a long long time."

He produced a flask from the sleeve of his coat and took a deep pull on it. The liquid inside shimmered on his lips before vanishing with a faint smoke. Whatever it was, was potent and it made Cocotte's eyes water just sniffing the strange concoction from where she was sitting. 

"Jester, it is no joking matter. The longer the card is missing, the more power it gains and once it's out of our collective abilities, who knows what will happen. We need to recover it."

"Oh, don't you worry, porky. I've got the best and most reliable man all ready to look for our card."

"And who is this man, if I may ask?" Cocotte leaned forward with curiosity dancing on her face.

"That man," Jester said, "is me!"

He let the flask drop from his hand and before it hit the ground, Jester was gone. 

"Cocky motherfucker," Cocotte grimaced.

"Hrrrgh," Porco said and picked up another chicken leg.

---

I thought I'd introduce these three while we're at it.

Regular updates to this story this week.

Black Card Paranoia

Throughout history of humanity, the owners of the Black Card have had a very short and eventful life span. Most of them kicked the bucket and shuffled their mortal coil within a month or so of coming in possession of the said card.

After all, once you wield the card for the said time period, there is nothing much left in life that can excite you or inspire a will to live in you. You just want to get rid of the card and your life too. That's how it works, that how it has worked ever since the Black Card was created.

But as all good things go, something had to fuck up. Someone had to throw a fucking spanner in the gears of a well oiled machine. The said oil was probably the blood, sweat, tears and other bodily fluids of previous owners of the Black Card. Now the machine was in disarray and for the first time, no one knew who owned the Black Card.

The most powerful artifact in the world was missing for ten months now. And with each passing day, the power of the card increased, making the person possessing it someone you'd not want to fuck with.

//

Mr. Kosmos turned the Black Card in his hand once more.

It radiated such a vibe of positivity that he knew everything was going to be alright in his life. He knew with the certainty of sun rising and setting that it was all A-OK. He had things in control. He was the master and commander of his ship. He placed the card back in his wallet and put the wallet in the front pocket of his jeans.

There was some blood on his shoes, but that was not important. The important thing was that he had a vehicle in his possession. The girl had been easy to kill. Just a snap of her neck, but the man had put up a fight and most of the blood was his. Mr. Kosmos looked once more at the whole scene that was spread out in front of him. The man's body was twisted and torn like a marionette with its strings cut. His head was at an awkward angle from his body. Completely unnatural, completely dead.

The girl's body was lying still on the ground like she was being made ready for some arcane satanic ritual. There was not going to be any of that, though. Not here. Mr. Kosmos had nothing to do with Satan or any of his minions.

No rituals, he reminded himself.

He had dragged the bodies to the side of the road and he was torn between digging a single grave for them or just setting them on fire. He decided to dig the grave. They had given him their lives and their truck, this was the least he could do. Luckily, there was a spade in the back of the truck. He slipped on his headphones, chose Cannibal Corpse from the playlist and started digging. He wanted to be done before dark.

He had to visit mother.

----------
Heyyy, it's Mr. Kosmos once again. It seems he got rid of his itch!

The Librarian's Dream

Lisa dreams.

She's in the library again. Walking among the shelves. Her fingers trace the spines of the books with the caress of a lover. The echo of her footsteps match the ticks of the big clock in the hall outside.

She breathes in the smell of old books mingling with the new and she can hear them all calling out to her.

"Help us, mother. Help us."

A tear rolls down her cheek. She's powerless against the enemy that she faces every night.

The Mongrifier, beast with a thousand fingers stalks her library. He dog-ears the pages and writes obscene graffiti in the books. On good days, he tears out one or two pages from the books and on bad days he rips chunks out of books.

And when he leaves, he throws the books on the floor and if he is feeling extra mischievous, he puts the books in wrong shelves.

So Lisa has to check the shelves once again to see if every book is resting in her proper home. She hates the beast and hates herself because she can't do anything to stop it.

"Mother, mother," the books cry, "you need to get stronger. You need to face the Mongrifier and kill it."

And so Lisa decides she needs to learn. She needs to study the advanced library sciences that would make a formidable librarian out of her. She longs to be the one who could inspire silence with just her presence.

She spends the rest of the night putting books back in the shelves and smoothing the pages that have been dog eared.

When Lisa wakes up she fills an online application for admission to the prestigious school of libraries.

Days pass.

The acceptance email lands in her inbox. Her life is about to change.

Lisa packs everything she owns and buys a bus ticket for the school.

In the bus, she dreams again and this time the Mongrifier knows of her plans. It rushes through the library, pushing the shelves to make books rain down in the library.

Lisa is being hunted by the beast. The mischief is gone and the Mongrifier is going for the kill.

A bookshelf falls and Lisa is too slow to get out of its way. She's pinned underneath it and the Mongrifier is coming for her. She holds a hardcover of War and Peace in her hands as some kind of shield and then a wicked pain shoots through her leg.

She wakes up and she's in the bus. The man sitting beside her has his hand on her leg. Without thinking, she gets up and slaps the tiny pervert.

He's saying something but the blood is rushing to her ears and she slaps him again. He falls down like a sack of flour.

She's getting him thrown out of the bus for sure.

---
Oh, you see where this is going? ;)

The Itch - Part 2

Part 1 is here 

Mr. Kosmos gained consciousness with his face in the mud and a wrecking pain in his jaw that spiked through his neck with every breath he took. 

There was a weight pressing down on him and as he moved he realized it was his luggage. They had thrown him out of the bus in this unknown place. He shaded his eyes with his hand and looked in the distance. There was nothing except dust and dying vegetation as far as his eye could see. The sun was above his head and he could feel himself sweating under his clothes.

He took in the extent of his injuries. His jaw hurt pretty bad but it was not broken. There were some phantom pains blossoming through his body, probably a result of the fall, and he knew he'd be blue and black in a day. 

Sitting on the side of the road he wished he had not pinched that lady. What the hell was he thinking and what did he expect her to do. 

He would need to find another way to reach his mother's village. Maybe he could hitch a ride from any vehicle going towards the next station and from there he could catch another bus. He stood up and walked to the side of the road. Looking on both sides for the sign of any vehicle. There was nothing. Just heat waves wafting up from the road, muddling everything in his sight. Then the waves shifted and he saw a vehicle coming his way. He raised his arm and stuck his thumb out in the universal gesture of i-need-a-ride.

At first, he thought the vehicle was not going to stop. But then it started to slow down and by the time it reached him he could see it was a small truck with seats in front and empty carriage space in the back. 

"Hi, uh," Mr. Kosmos approached the driver, a burly man with a tattoo of an anchor on his huge bicep, "I hope it won't be too inconvenient for you to give me a ride to the next town. I need to catch a bus to see my mother."

The man glared at Mr. Kosmos and then grunted. It could have been a no or a yes, but Mr. Kosmos took it as a yes. He walked to the other side of the car and threw his luggage in the back. He opened the door and saw that the man was not alone in the car. There was a girl sitting with him and she sidled closer to the man as Mr. Kosmos climbed in and slammed the door shut behind him. 

Hello, he said to the girl. She made a face and sat a little closer to the man. 

The car started to move. 

It was a long way to the next town no one spoke and the travel drowsiness was soon apparent in the truck. The car took a turn and the girl's leg brushed Mr. Kosmos' leg. 

And like the flashback of life of a dying man, his leg started to itch like it was the end of the world.

-- FIN --

The Itch -- Part 1

The itch was driving Mr. Kosmos mad. It started somewhere in the area of his right thigh's underside and it spread till the heel of his foot. He scratched and scratched, but it brought him no relief. The worse part was that he was sitting near the window of the bus on this long journey from his home to visit his sick mother in another town. And the woman sitting by his side was asleep since the journey began. He could not even distract himself from the itch by talking to her because waking her up would be rude and Mr. Kosmos was not a rude man. His mother had raised him to be a better man. 

He sighed deeply and continued to itch his leg through the fabric of his trouser. What he really wanted to do was to rip off his trousers and dig into the meat of his leg with his nails till he found the source of that itch and then rip the culprit agent of itch out with his teeth. He was sweating more than usual even though the air conditioning in the bus was working fine. He tried to distract himself by looking out of the window but the same old scenery of trees and roadside foliage passed him by. It was boring, but not boring enough to take his mind off the itch. 

As he scratched his leg, he felt the itch growing like an ink stain in a glass of water. It spread all over his leg and if Mr. Kosmos had as much as a shaving blade, he would have sawed his leg off with that thing no matter how much time it took or how much he bled all over the bus. He grabbed the armrest on the left side of the bus because the large lady's arm was completely over the middle arm rest. He slammed his back into the seat and opened his mouth to suck in a little more of the sweet air conditioned air, but there was no relief from the itch. 

He finally decided that he'd have to get off the bus and handle the itch before making his way to his mother by some other mode of transport. He raised his hand from his seat and waved it wildly, waiting for the conductor of the bus to notice him. The man had his headphones plugged deep in his ears and he was bobbing his head to some strange beat. Mr. Kosmos was almost at the verge of tearing his hair out when he did something unthinkable for which he would blame himself till the day he died.

He slid his hand under the fat arm of the woman sleeping in the next seat and pinched her with all his might. She screamed like a train engine and that got the conductor's attention. He knocked on the driver's cabin and the bus slowly started to slow down. 

But Mr. Kosmos had a new problem very quickly coming his way. The woman stood up to her full height like some kind of behemoth and slapped Mr. Kosmos right in the face. The last thing he saw as stars swam before his eyes and birds circled his head was the woman's other hand rushing to make another introduction with his face. 

Thankfully, by then he had blacked out. 

And so began his real problems.

- part 2, soon -

Coming back to old habits

There was a time when I loved blogging like nothing else. But then social media happened. Facebook and Twitter came along and blogs took a back seat. I am sure the case is same with many of you, because who the hell wants to write a blog post when you can do away with a 140 character tweet or post a picture and an update on facebook, right?

No. You're not right in this. Tweets and facebook posts are the McDonalds and KFC of the online world. Sure, they feel pretty good when you're digging your claws into them, when you're smearing those yummy sauces all over your virtual self, when you're bathing in the glow of likes, hearts, retweets, shares and comments. But all that shit, empty calories my friend. They leave your ego bloated and sluggish, and soon you're like pavlov's dogs, just dancing to the same old tune.

How do I know that? I was there, man. From night to day, and fuck, it was bad. It took some major life shaking events to put things in perspective and give me another view at how bad things actually were.

Hey, maybe you can control your social media consumption, but i could not. I failed at it spectacularly. I failed at it majestically and in full view of more than 6000 followers (bullshit number). But now that I am away from it, and i don't feel a compulsion to post a tweet every time i take a shit or blow a fuse, it's much more calm, peaceful. I am looking at my life and I can see things that I had ignored before.

There are so many beautiful things and beautiful people all around me and all I was doing was squeezing my thoughts into 140 character blasts that was more like a monkey dancing to a beat than any kind of creative expression.

See, you spend enough time on any social media or anywhere, once you figure out what makes people tick, what gets a response out of them, it's fucking addictive to push their buttons and see them squirm. It's a feeling of power and when your real life is slowly going to shit, you will grab at any minute chance of power you get. I was there, and damn, did it feel good? Ohh, fuck yeah, it felt so good.

To know that you can rile the feminist brigade on twitter by just posting a tweet about driving habits of women and have them tweeting shitty death threats to you all day...beyond wonderful. Say some shit about national anthem and the patriots will crawl out of the wood work like cockroaches and you can fuck with them even then. Wash your dirty linen in an online space and enjoy the attention pouring from all corners of the virtual space. All day, all night, all week.

Fuck, make up a story, man. I've seen people do that. Smart people. Intelligent people. Just for kicks!

And where does all that leave you? Fucking nowhere. You're so out of touch with reality at the end of it, you're so enclosed in your bubble of virtual reality that the shitty problems of others start to overshadow your own problems, cuz who the fuck wants to look at what's wrong with their own house when someone else's house is on fire and it looks so damn beautiful.

Again, I'll say this again, this is all from my personal experience. I was in a strange place, mentally, physically, and spiritually, and I fed on this form of power and attention. If you can use twitter and social media in a responsible manner, by all means, keep at it. More power to you.

But I had to get out, man. I just could not stay.

Yeah, I am there on instagram and tumblr now but who knows for how long.

But I want to write. I've always wanted to write. That's why I took up my first job, and my second job and then joblessness because it'd give me an opportunity to write. I want to get better at this.

And more things will come. I am not going to sit on my ass and just let this time pass me by.

I know I am stronger than my addictions and the only person that I have to prove something to, is me.

I've totally lost the plot to this post by now, so let me know if you've found something useful in this.

Drop a comment below!~

Excuses are easy, work is hard.

I don't live a life governed by too many rules, but there are certain points that I try to follow in my life. So, just to give you a taste of some of these rules that make me, me -- this is a post covering some of those points.

a) No is easy to say, yes is hard to do --- Oh, man. The trouble this has saved me for years. Really, if you don't want to do something, say so. Many people in life keep saying yes to others so as to not offend them or to maintain some kind of favor with them, but if you keep saying yes, it's going to land you in a spot of bother sooner or later. None of us are supermen or superwomen, we have limits when it comes to physical or mental tasks. Believe it or not, if you don't learn to say no to people, then god save you.

b) Lie as close to truth as you can -- Come on, we all lie. Little harmless lies or big lies that can change destinies. Other than having an alibi for your lie (woah, rhyme), you need to keep your lie as believable as possible. Wrap your lie in a cloth spun with truth and you're golden.

c) Quit while you're ahead -- Sometimes, when you know you're at the top of your game and it's only going to go downhill from there on, get the fuck out. It might be painful, it might itch for a while, but the wounds scab over sooner or later and only scars remain. And that's fine. Why burn out at one thing when you can be better at something else instead?

d) Is the juice worth the squeeze? -- Stuck on a difficult decision? Don't know whether to go for it or not, just ask yourself this question. It really helps. Is the result you might get really worth the effort you're going to put into it? Often in life, we keep banging our heads against problems that are not really worth our time, the juice is just not worth the squeeze you're applying to it, so, uh, squeeze something else.

e) Dare to be stupid -- There are times when we think that we're being stupid as fuck and if we go ahead we're going to be the laughing stock of the village and all that shit. Fuck it. Do it. Be stupid if you've to be. But you're still one step ahead of someone who is not even making the effort to be stupid. A shit effort is any day better than zero effort. Right? And if nothing else, it'll be good for some laughs and you'll learn not to do that stupid shit again.

That's just some, there are many more. Be mindful, that this shit works for me, and it might not work for you. Your milage will absolutely fucking vary, cuz you're not me.

So, I suggest, find your own life code and follow it. We all need a code. Dig? Good. That was the whole point of this post.