MUSTANG EPOCH.

Pardon me if this piece of writing seems to you, like an unpolished cross between the works of Dan Brown and Sidney Sheldon. I just happen to be a HUGE fan.

[Did you know I dream of genie was produced and co written by Sidney? No? Then shut up. I am number one fan only.]
Also for those of you who happen to be slightly impatient with long posts [no, I aint insulting :| ] bear with me please. It won’t be not worth your time. Promise :)

Here goes :

The alcove with its perished lighting offered but an ironic muted glow to her face.

As he bore his eyes into her charcoal like ones, she couldn’t take it no more.
The sweat percolating under the taut collar of her tweed tinkled her skin everytime it trickled down through her chest over her belly.

Her eyes froze deadpan everytime his lips parted and sighed and shut again offering no solace.
His gaze penetrated into her soul leaving faint traces of gooseflesh through barren skin.
Her knee caps gradually froze with the tension created in her body.
She felt a hollow, rhythmic softness guide her senses.



The venom was undoing rapidly.

“We have done this before”
“Have we? Why is it then that ‘we’ meet here tonight?”
“Is that a question?”
“Do I hear a polyglot asking me that?”
“Spare me.”
“Not tonight.”

The nerves popping through her receding hairline constricted exposing her pale, fermenting skin.

“Can I have it yet?”
“And how inconvenient would it be if I refuse?”

The Styrofoam coffee holders tumbled spilling the remains over the quivery counter carved off shoddy wood as her angry fists came down on it.


The little of the sparse crowd in that deserted ranch house stirred for the while; shrugged it off then, drowning into the emptiness of the ambience.

The voices now muffled, disappearing into the humid air.


“Don’t you understand? I do NOT have the kind of time for your little tricks. Let me have it. You know it is important to me. You know it.”

“And I am not exactly going to do that”

Her wrist is now clasped into a crushing grip throttling her nerves.

“Now listen up bitch. You kill him. Today. And you get your little tootsie back. Or… well, my little tricks always work don’t they hon’? ”


“Bastard.”
“always the same hon’; always the very same.”


She knew that toothy smile would haunt her till the end of time.
Concealed behind that loathsome grin were intentions which she knew could surpass her wildest, most feared imaginations.

“I can’t.”
“Did my sweet ears hear a no?”
“You can’t make me do this.”
“Try me.”



“But he is my father! You want me to kill my own father?”
“For your own sweet life, now don’t you want THAT so bad hon’?”
“I will not kill my own father. I will NOT, do you hear me?


And are you going to kill ME now? So be it then. Kill me”

“Ah, I don’t poke dead meat hon’. and he aint no father to you, he sold you for the work of god, remember?”
“Do not utter god’s name from the wretched tongue you got; besides my life is none of your business.”
“So do we have a deal cut? Kill the bastard and you get your sweet arse out of this.”

“I won’t.”
“So what about thy blood?”


The lady stops dead in her tracks.

“Do you mean…”
“Ah, do I? Yes I do. Kill your ‘father’ and your Eurague; the holy Eurague which your community lives for will be spared.”
Her head was spinning in circles faster than the ceiling fan overhead. Bile rose steadily through her throat and after what just transpired, it threatened to come out.

She had to end it.

End it now.
“Alright. I’ll kill him. Give me the holy Eurague and I will kill Maurias.”
“AH! The kind of shit your people do for darn words. I wouldn’t do no sort of a thing for a barrel of crack! Where is the world going?”


“Nowhere close to heaven with swine’s like you.”

“Ah, I serve my purpose on earth like the rest of us hon’, only I don’t hide it!
Well, so get to business, we meet here tonight after the murder and you get your shit back, but if you strut your little brains around won’t someone be really sorry?!”

“Two things, don’t call it a murder and don’t call me Hon’ ever again.”


The lady in tweeds stormed off.
She was going to kill her father today. Her foster father.
The man who taught her to floss her teeth, to pick good shells from bad ones at the beaches, to wear her tennis shoes without messing up the laces, and Eurague.
The holy Eurague. For which he had chosen to give his life up. And he had taught her to do the same.



She had sworn to two things in her life.
To not think twice before quitting her life in protecting the Eurague if she had to and to never ever leave her father’s side, no matter what.
Her only family. Her only proof of existence.
And her faith. The faith of her following.


She was at fork tonight.
And all was about to change.

The night of the ‘murder’ she returned the holy eurague to her community after the biggest sin she had ever let herself commit. Holy Eurague the manuscript that held secrets of the protectors of time, the protectors of life and existence was in threat no more.
And in due course of events, the venom did not deceive her.
It took her in whole and washed her chi of all the sins.
It was a self sacrifice.
Only, she didn’t know if the heavens beseeched her presence any more.