Death by Madhuri Pavamani

Author:Madhuri Pavamani [Pavamani, Madhuri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-25T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: DUTCH

“You know, I’ve done this a few times now, and I still cannot get over how easy it is to slice through her body.”

In moments of extreme duress, some say time stopped, others acquired superhuman strength, and still others turned inward. I was overcome by quiet calm, the kind that was so still, I felt as if my blood stopped pumping, the beats of my heart hit pause, and all of me waited.

“It’s as if she’s human, and yet she’s not.”

In those moments, I could tell you what a drop of rain sounded like as it hit the pavement from three stories up. I could describe the blue of the sky on a clear day when everything was crisp and color felt sharp. I could remember sunshine-warmed waters during those early hours of the beginning of beach season.

“You’d think the Dark Mistress would make them a little sturdier, no?”

That was before honey and light and lemons and grass.

That was before touch and tenderness and time.

That was before Juma.

I watched the shock on her face as the blade cut into her back and shredded her vital organs. At first it all seemed unreal, as though maybe these woods really were full of paranormal activity and this castle with its fucked-up paintings and bloodthirsty owner was haunted. But as she gripped the blade and bled all over the steel, everything became painfully clear.

Veda sliced her up and over and I knew Juma was dead before she dropped to her knees because Veda was a professional when it came to all things fucked up, and slicing and dicing the woman I loved seemed to rank high on her list. Were I to think long and hard on it, I might have wondered at Veda’s obsession with Juma—why did she give a fuck? her beef was with me—but this time around, I didn’t think long or hard on shit.

I acted.

It was instinct.

Primal.

Feral in its enactment.

And fast as fuck.

Veda uttered her bullshit “ . . . make them a little sturdier, no?” and I was across that dark vast room and upon her so fast, I wondered whether she realized I moved at all. She was walking a circle around Juma, admiring her handiwork, going on and on about how easy it was to kill Juma when I launched at her, blade in my right hand, and I swiped Juma’s machete in my left. Veda spun right and parried my first blow, slipped under the second, but my elbow caught her off guard and I landed a strong blow to her jaw. Her head snapped back, I jabbed my blade into her side, and the room filled with her screams, Malayalam curses and cries filled the dank castle as I withdrew my blade and went back for more.

Almost as tall as me, her legs just as long, Veda held her side and kicked me in the kneecap, the blow buckling my joint but I didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel anything but foul dark rage.

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