Dwandv:: The Battle for the Gate

by Dinkar Goswami

  Gerua looked at Master Shalya’s comforting eyes. After a pause, she nodded.

  “You will travel alone. Master Iku will get you ready.”

  “I will do as you say.” Gerua had no idea what she was going to face. Master Shalya’s belief in her was comforting. She told herself that she should have no reason to doubt herself. She would have to be ready for anything, including the edict.

  Master Shalya clasped his palms in front of his chest in a customary namaste. “Master Iku is waiting. He will also arm you. Remember, the sinister preys on fear and vice. Do not fear what you encounter. I believe you are ready. Namaste.”

  Gerua bowed in acknowledgment and respectfully returned the greeting. “Namaste,” she said.

  * * *

  The only unusual item Master Iku wore was an ornate belt on top of the tunic with a bright blue stone in the center of the buckle. It seemed like a part of some ancient armor. He touched the stone once and commanded, “Namaste, Gerua. Please use your multiple bladed flexible sword urumi in its most lethal mode and strike Ku.” Gerua knew that Master Iku could easily move out of the way and avoid the lethal strike. She whipped the five-and-a-half-feet multiple flexible blades of the urumi and attacked Master Iku at several places simultaneously. If the blades struck, they would cut Master Iku into pieces. To Gerua’s horror, Master Iku didn’t move and stood his ground. Seeing Master Iku standing still, Gerua hesitated and started pulling the urumi away. She was well aware that she could lose control of the blades, and the urumi could slice her.

  Master Iku saw Gerua’s muscles tense and realized what she was doing. “No!” he ordered. If she had not been so highly trained, Gerua would have lost control. As soon as she heard Master Iku, she relaxed and struck Master Iku with multiple lethal strikes on his head and body.

  “Master Iku, you are not hurt! I was afraid the urumi would slice through you!” Gerua was surprised.

  “The belt shields Ku and anything Ku touches. Nothing organic or paranormal can pierce this shield. The belt will not only create a force field but also strengthen each cell in one’s body so as not to be affected by anything or any weapon that could harm the wearer’s physical being. You will wear the belt and carry the kukri, the inward curved machete, as your only weapon.” He handed her two identical kukris. “Please sheath the kukris in their scabbard.” Gerua did as she was told, and the kukris and the scabbard vanished in front of her eyes. She could still feel them in her hand. She looked at Master Iku, surprised.

  “When encased, neither the kukri nor the scabbard is visible. They are made out of celestial metals, and Deva have molded them. They will cut through organic, as well as inorganic, material. You will also wear a blindfold while we transport you from the ashram to a citadel below. You can remove your blindfold only after the citadel elder escorts you out. Thereafter, you will make your way to the afflicted village on your own. The directions to the afflicted village are in this parchment. You will return to the ashram by climbing the mountain. Memorize the directions and return the parchment.” Master Iku handed her the parchment and the belt.

  “Siddhi is being abused, and sinister beings of the edict are at work. Remain vigilant and return safely.” Master Iku left.

  Gerua expected the unexpected and knew that what she would encounter would be nothing like she had ever seen. I will soon find out. She felt a little elated with the trust Master Shalya and Master Iku had placed in her. She was now looking forward to testing her ‘mortal skills’.

  She was going through the parchment when Danta came running toward her. She rolled the parchment and placed it on the ground. Gerua lowered her perfect frame on one knee, extending her arms and long artistic fingers, hugging Danta as he ran into her arms.

  “Ku told me that you are leaving the ashram and going on an important mission.” Danta hugged her tightly.

  “It is Master Iku.” She paused, looking at his intense light brown eyes.

  “Mom, Ku is my friend. And you know he likes to be called Ku. But if it makes you feel better, I will address him as ‘Master’. Master Ku has promised to take me out of the ashram,” Danta said excitedly.

  “Outside, huh? That is nice. Stay close to Master Iku.”

  “Mom, I know him, and you worry too much. You know I have been out on the mountain with him earlier,” said Danta confidently. “Okay, I will see you in a couple of days. I love you. Now I have to go and prepare.” Danta kissed her lovingly and ran to the peripheral ashram, where Master Ku was waiting. Gerua watched him happily strut away. Momentarily, she let her thoughts wander.

  He will be gone soon. The thought of parting ways with Danta tore at Gerua’s heart. Once again, she would be tested, and she would have to let go of what she loved most. She would have to find the necessary strength to do what was required. But for now, she needed to focus on the task Master Shalya had set out for her.

  CHAPTER 14

  AFFLICTION

  Gerua magically appeared in the valley below. One moment, she was in the ashram, and the next, she was in the citadel. An elder led her outside the citadel and her blindfold was removed only after she was out of the citadel gate. After customary felicitation she made her way to the afflicted village, briefly looking back to see that the elder and the citadel had vanished.

  Gerua was clothed in loose pleated pants called dhoti, and she wore a fitted, light orange tunic with toggles till her belly. She concealed the belt she wore with a wrap around her waist. The two invisible kukris she carried were resting in their scabbard magnetically attached to the belt. A necklace of wrinkled brown beads called rudraksh fell around her neck, and she wore comfortable cloth shoes with flexible wooden soles.

  Gerua’s spectacularly attractive figure reached the outskirts of the village as per the directions she had memorized from the parchment. An eerie silence surrounded the village. She entered unperturbed, her gait confident.

  Although the outside of the village was bathed in sunlight, a mist engulfed it from the inside. In the village, Gerua saw the scourge afflicting the human inhabitants. She was appalled by the extent of the plague that had been unleashed on the villagers. There was so much pain, agony, and despair. In this village, everyone was affected in the vilest possible way. No man, woman, or child was spared. It was obvious that something dreadful had taken over the village. There was little hope in the villagers’ eyes. It was apparent that they were unable to comprehend what was happening. Many had patches of rotting skin on their bodies. With their fogged eyes, they stared blankly at nothing. Some had puncture marks; others had cuts as if they had been racked. Sitting idle, they spoke senselessly, dribbling and groaning.

  Fear, despair, and hopelessness permeated the village. Gerua could sense that the villagers were suspicious of one another. They seemed scared of something.

  Gerua realized instantly that their sickness was primarily that of the spirit and the mind, and the symptoms were showing on their bodies. Someone or something had organized this with a sinister design. Gerua knew that even though evil seemed disorganized, there was always a design. Evil had just not taken root in the village; it had consumed it. The edict had planned this well.

  Gerua knew that this must have started as an isolated incident. The villagers would not have understood what was happening. And the affliction would have spread rapidly to the entire village. The village was segregated by whatever force was afflicting it. The rot was everywhere. The village well, which was normally filled with pure Himalayan water, was now filled with death.

  The only anomaly was a healthy young woman sitting beside the well. She was stunningly attractive with long dark untied hair and a full red mouth. She was well-dressed and was unaffected by the malady. She wore a blood-red sari, a five-meter-long wrap around her waist. One end was draped over her head. She also wore a red blouse, and her midriff was bare. She turned her head and shoulders toward Gerua and smiled at her as she approached. Gerua immediately recognized this anomaly and knew what had happened in the village.
She knew that this woman was a churel, a sinister paranormal being.

  CHAPTER 15

  BUBBA

  Gerua’s deduction was correct. An innocent woman had been invited to her death and had been reincarnated as a churel. The churel, when she was a human, was a woman called Sheila. She had no hate in her heart or any desire for vengeance. All she had wanted was peace and a little happiness. Sheila was a good woman despite the fact that she had led a desolate life. She could not remember being happy. She was always controlled, bullied, and bound to the walls her parents called home. Her parents and brothers thought of her as a burden and treated her so. Her parents had given her hand in marriage when she was very young. On her eighteenth birthday, she had been sent to live with her husband, Vicky, who was years older than her.

  Vicky was a philanderer, and had been with many young women in the village. Sheila’s married life was even worse than her life at her parents’ home. She was nothing but a slave in her husband’s house. She labored through the day and ate leftovers, if any. Even the domestic animals she looked after were treated better than her. She was always confined to the house with no friends, and had no one to talk to. She was distressed and prayed for salvation, but none came.

  When Sheila became pregnant, she realized she had to save her child. One night she ran away from the village. She walked until she could walk no more and then fell to the ground, exhausted and dehydrated.

  When Sheila woke up, she found herself in an ascetic’s cave. The ascetic was tall and muscular with long matted black hair and a long beard and mustache that hid his rather striking features. He wore only a saffron loincloth and ritual necklaces of stones she did not recognize. His gaze was hypnotic. The only light in the cave came from a burning pyre. The ascetic was chanting and feeding the fire with liquid from a stark, shiny white bowl. He intermittently drank and spat out the liquid from the bowl into the fire. When the liquid hit the fire, the fire turned bluish before returning to its normal amber color. She had heard of such ascetics who lived in the Himalayas. I am safe, Sheila consoled herself. She had heard that these ascetics had devoted their lives to being pious and were holy men. Sheila was convinced that this ascetic would save her. She was unaware that she was in the presence of Bubba, the dreaded super yogi consumed by siddhi.

  Bubba’s internal metamorphosis had accelerated only when the masters had accepted him. Cunningly, he had succeeded in disguising his true nature even from the masters while he had been at the ashram, which had been decades ago. Bubba had gone past the teachings of the masters long ago and embraced his true nature, evolving into a powerful malevolent force and was now the unequivocal leader of the sinister edict that Gerua would confront.

  Consumed by siddhi he had attained, Bubba reveled in imposing his will on Earth and controlling the supernatural. With a ravenous ego obsessed with power, he believed himself to be omnipotent. He had and was continuously amassing an ever-growing army of aghori and sinister paranormal beings. His legions were everywhere, permeating humanity and corrupting mortal values. To the dismay of the masters at the ashram whom Bubba had decisively blindsided, Bubba had become the siddha consumed and corrupted by siddhi. He was the corporeal proof that Earth was in peril again.

  Sheila sat in a lotus position in front of Bubba, facing the fire burning between them. She began to sway as Bubba chanted. Bubba offered her the shiny white bowl over the pyre. The chanting put Sheila in a trance, and she felt hypnotized. Though unwilling, she took the bowl with both hands and started drinking the liquid it contained. Despite her trancelike state, she saw that the bowl was made out of a skull. The liquid was bitter, but Sheila had no control over herself. She continued to drink the vile substance. Bubba picked a shiny white pipe made of bone six inches long, narrow on one side and an inch in diameter on the broadside. It was stuffed with dried leaves. Bubba lit the pipe and began to blow smoke at Sheila. The more smoke he blew, the more control Sheila lost over herself. Bubba took fire from the pyre with his finger, and she could see the fire dancing in his hand. The dancing fiery figure looked like a miniature version of Sheila. Bubba took a wide-mouthed glass jar, placed the dancing fire into it, and handed it to Sheila. She took the jar, and as she went into a deep trance, she somehow knew what to do. She bit her wrist and started bleeding into the jar. The last thing she saw before collapsing was Bubba getting up with inhuman speed and leaping over the pyre toward her. Bubba caught Sheila’s head in one hand and gathered a fistful of ashes from the pyre, rubbing over her bleeding wrist; she healed instantly. Just before she fully lost consciousness, she heard a voice telling her that she would be saved.

  Sheila woke up groggy to find herself back in her bed in the village. She lay in the bed, not sure if what had happened was a dream. Vicky crawled into bed at dusk. She could smell village alcohol and another woman on him. A murderous rage started brewing in her heart, giving her unusual strength. Sheila picked a heavy vase lying in the room. A bloodcurdling scream echoing from deep within her, Sheila smashed the vase on Vicky’s head. The vase shattered, splitting Vicky’s scalp. A dazed Vicky groaned as he bled from his head. Sheila looked around wildly for something else to hit him with. She saw the heavy brass statue lying beside her dressing table. Her rage urging her, she was determined to kill this man who had caused her pain. She picked the statue and raised it high over her head. And as she was about to smash it on his skull, she had flash visions of demons and witches dancing around her bed.

  The chilling scream and the shattering sound emanating from Vicky’s room raised the alarm. Vicky’s brother, who was in the next room, rushed to his brother’s aid. He smashed through the door and saw his sister-in-law, her hands holding the brass statue high above Vicky, ready to smash it on his head. Sheila seemed possessed, her eyes filled with murderous rage. She growled momentarily, and the growls turned into a chilling scream as she began to bring the statue down toward Vicky’s skull. Vicky’s brother dived over the bed, tackling Sheila. He knocked her backward into the brick wall. Sheila hit the wall behind her with a loud thud, her body collapsing on to the ground. The statue flew out of her hand and landed harmlessly beside the bed. Sheila’s brother-in-law got up, staring with horror at Sheila propped against the wall. Her head had fallen forward, and her legs were splayed wide apart in front of her. He saw the increasing pool of blood in between her splayed legs. Vicky’s groans made him turn away. He had to attend to his brother.

  Vicky’s brother dragged the still groggy Vicky out of the room, closing the door behind with Sheila inside. Their mother too sensed something was terribly wrong. Being the village midwife, she quickly examined Vicky, realizing he was going to be okay. She quickly cleaned his head and stopped the bleeding.

  Vicky’s brother rapidly narrated the whole ordeal to her and asked to check on Sheila. She examined Sheila methodically. She knew that the unborn baby would not survive the trauma and that Sheila would be dead soon. She cleaned Sheila up and put her on the bed to die. As Sheila drifted between life and death, she saw hazy visions of Bubba telling her that she would have her vengeance. Though dying, she felt a sense of euphoria. Bubba’s image remained in her vision, comforting her until her spirit left her body.

  A day later, Sheila’s spirit saw how Vicky and his brother desecrated her body, not performing appropriate last rites. Her spirit was filled with hate when her mother-in-law convinced the villagers that she had gone into early labor and died in childbirth. Vicky did not even put enough wood on her pyre to cremate her fully. He threw her half-cremated body into the river to be taken apart by the creatures of the river, fueling her rage even more. Sheila’s spirit was consumed with a fierce desire to take revenge. Bubba had manipulated her mind when she was alive, and now he would manipulate her spirit.

  Sheila’s spirit darted to Bubba’s cave and saw him waiting with his aghori disciples. In her ghostly form, she could see pishacha demons hovering in the cave. These were sinister creatures that could take solid demonic forms, or turn into invisible ghos
ts that possess mortal creatures. The aghori began to chant, performing a ritual of change, calling on sinister forces to give her spirit a paranormal body. One of the younger aghori opened a cloth bag, removed the glass jar that held Sheila’s blood and the still-burning fire, and handed it to Bubba.

  Sheila’s spirit saw Bubba cast the contents of the jar into the raging fire while the other ascetics chanted nonstop. She heard them asking for strange powers for her as the blood in the jar burned in the fire. As the chanting grew louder and more intense, a bodily form began to emerge from the flames. Reaching a terrifying crescendo, the chanting echoed and bounced off the smooth walls of the cave, and Sheila’s spirit was pulled into the seeming corporeal form that had risen from the fire.

  Sheila was thrilled with her new body. She learned she was able to shape-shift into any mortal woman no matter how beautiful or terrifying to behold. She felt powerful in her new body. She had been reincarnated as a churel, a powerful paranormal that could consume mortals with her fiery disposition. She had been given power over the pishacha demons in the cave. The pishachas would obey her every wish and command. She reveled in her newfound powers, not realizing she belonged to Bubba.

  Bubba, the supreme aghori master, had reincarnated a good, innocent woman into a sinister paranormal. And now he would wield her like a three-pronged trident to trigger an epidemic of hate, chaos, and destruction. He basked in his power. True to his word, Bubba had given Sheila the powers she needed to exact revenge. Bubba had not just made her powerful, but he also supplemented her powers with those of his army of abominable pishachas. The pishachas could possess mortal beings and alter their thoughts, afflict their mind with all kinds of venal abnormalities, and drive them to insanity. As form shifters, they could become invisible and suddenly reappear in terrifying physical forms. Some of the pishachas had huge leathery wings that enabled them to fly and engulf their victims in a vice-like grip so that they could feed on them while they were still alive.