He immersed his tongue inside her mouth and disgust just overwhelmed her. She pushed him hard, with her arms taking control of the situation and one leg going up between his legs. Then, dizzy as she was, she aimed for his head, seeing him moaning in pain. She punched air in the first strike, but the second strike was successful and he collapsed on the floor.
"Bloody slut," he cried, as he grabbed his crotch. "You hit me? Me? Pran Devdutt!"
She turned aside, walking as quickly as she can, but she was tripping in the semi-lit parking area. It was late at night and the parking lot was filled with cars but not people. Suffocation was making her squeamish and she tried to exhale and inhale rapidly.
She looked back and found Pran briskly strolling towards her.
"Come on baby, come back, and don't get angry." He said through his clenched teeth. "I didn't mean you harm. I was just trying to get close to you as we are meant for that. But you don't hit me, you understand?"
She began to move, hiding behind the closest car first, and then slowly moving towards the back of the pillar. Pran passed her from the front, calling her name out.
Her heartbeat was fast as she grabbed for her phone from the purse, hoping to call Vijaya. She did dial her number twice but Vijaya didn't pick up. Damn. She began to move back towards the banquet hall. She had almost reached the door, when a hand grabbed her from behind, holding her mouth as she coughed and struggled, her legs flaying in the air.
"You are not well. You are doing stuff that you shouldn't be doing. You are hurting people you shouldn't be hurting. Come with me."
She resisted him until he punched her in the stomach. She painfully screamed that was muffled by his arm around her mouth. Finally, he let go of her when she heard a clicking sound.
She looked up to see Pran in a dire state, his eyes bloodshot and sweat pouring off his face. He didn't look normal. What has he consumed? But soon she realized he was afraid.
Her head turned to face the black clad figure standing next to Pran, holding up a revolver. She noticed the mustache even.
It was Ashok.
"Who the hell are you?"
Ashok's finger played around the trigger, "Do you really want to find out or go back and have a nice drink up there?"
Pran heaved in disbelief. "It's not over, baby." And with that, he ran towards the staircase.
Madhu was still in shock seeing Ashok.
"I'm not really good with guns," he was sighing, wiping his sweat off. He must really not like guns. "But that guy was dangerous. Are you okay?"
"I'm not feeling well but I need to go uh..."
Madhu felt his arms go around her as he grabbed her and pulled her up. She clutched on to his neck with her hands while she dizzily watched him walk towards his vintage car.
"You are really a beautiful man," she hiccupped with a simple but reassuring smile. For some reason, whatever she had been feeling for this long was just pouring out of her tongue as if there was no barrier to it. "I want to do things to you. But I can't because I'm quite shy about it. Is that...uh...that is, is this a dream? It should be right. God. I hope it is otherwise I'm saying stuff to the wrong person." She widened her eyes.
"Don't worry; I'll take you home."
Madhu smiled foolishly. Then she came forward, holding his neck as a support and kissed Ashok on the cheek. "You are a soft man. And why were you carrying a gun? And how did you know I was here?"
He placed her at the front seat of the car and then put the belt around her.
"I think I'm just going to go sleep," she said, closing her eyes and hoping this dream would not come to an end.
*
Pran opened his eyes to find his hands tied to either ends of his bed. He had returned from the party late and had slept in his clothes without texting or calling the girls he usually messes around with at night. He had always done it for the sake of fun but yesterday it had gone too far and he regretted it. He wanted to call or text Madhu and just apologize to her, saying he did it out of alcohol influence.
But he was tied to his own bed, and he was confused. He saw an old man sitting in the room, with black gloves, heavy white beard and a cap. He stood up, hunched and staggering to his feet.
"Who are you? Why are you doing this?"
The old man didn't answer as he continued walking.
Pran began to pull the ropes and as much as he did, only the bed shook, all the exertion making no difference to the state of him being tied up. His legs were tied to the foot of the bed with similar ropes as well. He realized he was drenched in something wet and for a moment he thought it was his own sweat or presumably vomit, until he smelled the familiar stench of kerosene spilled over his bed and clothes.
Smoke. Something was burning in his house and it was spreading as the wildfire reached his bedroom from the corridor. He could feel the heat reaching his pants as it caught fire. He wanted to tap it out, escape his pants and just jump from the window but the resistance was futile.
The old man had disappeared and yet Pran was calling out to him, pleading with him to return.
Slowly the fire consumed his body. He could feel his body dissolving in all the rage and the horror of his making, as he could see in his last glimpse the helpless faces of all those he had harassed. And at that moment, he wanted to apologize to everyone, to whosoever he had harmed by his words or his actions. But it was too late as the fire reached his face. His mouth opened in the form of protest, as he screamed in agony hoping someone in the millions of people outside would hear it.