Baden Bloodshot and dark eyes examine the battered display on the polished brass. The direct golden rays of the scorching sun penetrate through the blinds, which were hanging loosely from the windowsills, brightening every inch of the grand bed-chamber. The light gave the buff man a clear view of the damage faced by his once spotless flesh. Before, he was proud of it. The beautiful and perfectly sculpted features over an ivory flesh that used to leave both males and females breathless and drooling. He used to be confident in the department of physicality and the tempting sexuality he oozed to lure the prey of a particular gender. He was sure that his one dazzling grin could bring any woman in the kingdom on their knees and beg to worship his body like the temple of God. He was described as an incarnation of Adonis by the people. Those who had seen him once in the past would look for opportunities to steal another glance. But today, when he examined the once godly features in the mirr
The Ambaram He wipes the sweat covering his body like second skin using the loose cotton shirt he wore in the morning. As he did so, the females surrounding the training area drooled hungrily. Their desperate eyes drank in his brawny body packed with tight muscles. The counters of his abs, glistening under the thick layer of dripping sweat, sent their heart to a new thrill, and filled their minds with no so innocent images. They licked their lips, imagining themselves licking those stoned bars of his torso. The biceps on his shoulders flexed as he rubbed the cloth around his neck and chest. His cheeks turned red under the heat of the scorching sun, glaring right above his head. It was noon, the time of lunch. The training and intense workout were already over and the tired juveniles bowed their heads in respect as they went past him to break the bath. They were all panting and gasping. Every single nerve in their body throbbed in protest. A few supported the weight of those who could
The Ambaram The fog was thick, making it impossible to see in a long distance. It was as if the fluffy clouds have decided to catch some rest before their next flight. The trees looked scary under this newfound blanket of weather. The temperature was dropping slowly and the cold wind carries the essence of wintery steps. Thickly furred creatures ventured without a care in the forest whereas few went to the hibernation in their caves, relying on their biological cycle to wake up on the first whip of spring. When the rays of the sun failed to penetrate through the lingering fog, the birds decided to not travel far, depending on the food nearby. The berries of trees will help them to survive from the bone-chilling winter. Arthur looked at the scenery in distaste. He hated such weather. The burning woods in the fireplace heated his office, providing his otherwise numb limbs some warmth. The winter has struck earlier this year. Almost thirty sunrises before. The regular activities of the
The Ambaram She didn’t expect what she saw next as she gawked at the scene spellbound and breathless. Her initial fears of it being one of Henry’s men subsidize. The insecurities of getting discovered in the heart of the Ambaram as the princess of Alvar but not Arnold’s woman desisted. No potential harm will come on her in this presence as it didn’t come to haunt but heal the wounds that are carved deeply in her soul. Stupefied, she saw him moving with a fluidity that might put the gentle strokes of the silent river to shame. His sword was a completely different case. The sharp edges cut through the air with ferocity causing the invisible element to swish and scream in anxiousness. The point of the sword stabs the unseen enemy with a force that might break through the spine of a bulky being if they were present in real. His wrists twisted skillfully when they mechanically swung the weapon as if have grown up playing with it. The sword was heavy, yet he lifted it with such ease as if h
The Ambaram As the icy wind cuts through the sleepy forest of Ambaram, the dried leaves from the top of old trees that were barely appended to the thick and thin branches finally resigned their lives at the top and descended to the solid grounds. They were deteriorating under the harsh attacks of a cruel climate. The dry weather was sucking the moisture out of them. The shady fog wasn’t allowing the sunlight to reach them, limiting their source of nourishment. Soon, the trees will discard them completely and as the spring will come around the corner, new buds will sprout, marking the commencement of a new season. Valentina was sitting on the wooden stairs of the porch, curled in a thick blanket. Her nose was dipped in a book. Arnold has left for his duties at the chief’s house early in the morning, a few hours ago from now, leaving her alone in the entire cottage. Surprisingly, today he took Diam with him, unlike the other days. According to Arnold, the poor beast was itching for a r
The Ambaram “Come on, monkeys, it isn’t that hard. Just grab the ropes and climb fast. Stop complaining like little girls.” Arnold yelled over the group of boys who were glaring at their now scratched and bruised palms. The rope was old but strong. It has smoothened over years; still, it hurt their rough flesh. Well, it wasn’t entirely the fault of the rope but the cruel teacher who has been biting their ears for the past two hours to climb again and again. Some of them were on the verge of passing out, whereas others resigned by falling on the ground with throbbing calves. Pussies Arnold thought and snorted at their laidback attitude. With this progress, they won’t match even half of the level of the tribal warriors. They were too slow and delicate. Their expression was morphed with pain and struggle. Earlier, he was planning on taking them to hike but judging the harsh weather, they prepared an artificial atmosphere in the ground by using poles and thick branches of trees. Arnold
The Ambaram There are different kinds of people scattered in the world. Even if a few of them share similar physical appearances, the same cannot be said for their nature and thought process. The individuals are influenced by the transpiring circumstances of life. The one who receives all riches turns out to be needy and dependent, but it doesn’t mean all people of this kind are corrupted and proud. Many in this horde are humble and well-wishers. The individuals that grow under the pressure of responsibilities and expectations often turn out to be puppets, a being born to only care and please others, always making sure that people around him are happy. But a few from the same margin become Rebels, the one who has promised themselves to live life on their terms. The list of circumstances is long and so is the woven lives falling under distinct categories. One important aspect that sometimes turns out to be an authoritative and dominant structure of this dynamic system is darkness
The AmbaramMorning arrives faster when the golden rays of a rising sun ride the horizon. With its racing light, the hue of blue scatters in the once-obscure and moonless sky.The thick fog covering the atmosphere profoundly starts to thin with the gust of filtering morning breeze. Birds in the tiny nests, birched on the higher branches raise their necks higher, uncurling themselves, increasing the surface area, and gently ascend from their protected eggs or the barely alive young ones. Their beaks parted to scream out the joy of dispersing night and beady eyes measured the limitless sky before they spread their wings and launches at the wide-open blues grazed with golden highlights. Their courage was both admirable and inspiring as they flew out of their warm nest in the crisp sky to taste the freedom and search for the meal. Their tiny bodies glide in the air effortlessly as they chirped the melodious song of a new day, awakening the asleep nature from its slumber. Their song fills
6 months later…It came to her in a dream or, was it the music of cosmos that clicked the scattered pictures at the back of her mind into one perfect lifetime. A life where a girl sang melancholy, begging her lover to haul her into his arms and leave the world behind. A fantasy she admired from the eyes of a little girl before she grew up in scorn and turned indifferent. The heart of gold, when touched thorns, transformed into stone. Still, it fluttered whenever her browns collided with the brilliant oceans that tried to pull her into depths, challenging the fury in her to satisfy this unquenchable thirst with a kiss of love. Has it really been that long? She asked herself and a smile broke on her full lips unknowingly.A tear slipped from glossy eyes, saving the light mascara from smudging. Long fingers immediately reached for silk kerchief settled on the dressing table in front of her, and she looked up in the mirror.The visio
New York“He is ready for you, boss.”Agent Mc King announced as he gestured towards the last investigation room, and Lorenzo rolled his shoulders.“How is he?”Lorenzo asked while suppressing a yawn, earning a tired sigh.“His pupils are dilated, and the head is dizzy, but I have run a few tests. The man is good to go.” The Agent clarified before opening a metallic door with a small glass window, showing his boss in. Lorenzo nodded in acknowledgment and marches inside, forecasting a cool manner, oppose to his igniting fury. It was 5:45 a.m. now. The clock was ticking faster today. Slumping in the chair opposite to a high Antonio Sullivan, he passed him a sarcastic grin.“We met again.”Antonio frowned at the pitch of Lorenzo’s voice, which poked like needles in his skull, and he groaned. His red eyes watered a bit before scanning the bulky frame in front
New York“Here, sir.”The lovely secretary of Lorenzo offers him a mug of black coffee and two pills of Advil. The senior detective was having a hard time focusing on scattered documents after that close encounter with a familiar face. The clock was ticking fast, and from the past half an hour, he was scanning the same page, trying to surmise the words, which now seem like wriggling insects. Nodding at the beautiful female thankfully he tosses the medicine down his throat and drinks the burning- beverage.Huffing a refreshing sigh, he collects the papers in a folder and holds the hot caffeine in another. Erasing the haughty- image of a stoic woman from the back of his mind, he leaves his cabin with newfound determination. It was 4 a.m. He still had some time to crack the case. All the pawns of a dangerous game are standing in front of him. All he has to do is make them sing on a forbidden tune. Wearing both bewitchery and im
New YorkSomeone has said it right. When you go through the flames of life and come out as a survivor, you learn and adjust to chaotic synopses awaiting ahead. The negativity doesn’t affect you in the same manner as it used to sting you before. You become so tough and cold to feel small things. Whenever a situation appears where you feel the walls are closing and a helping hand will never befall, pray to God and fucking cut through the path like a bullet. The days that break you are the days that make you. It is easy to lecture a suffering soul, easy to judge their case, and give hearing of do's and don’ts. You will never know how that person is fighting each prime, slowly losing hope while mending the chinks in their armor. The logic is simple- Every soul has to go through the cryptic period of life all alone.Lauren learned it the same way. Where Alex had a protective father, she was sold at a very young age to clear debts and sa
New YorkTaking the phone from her tight hold gently, he scrolls through the call log and shudders nervously, noting Lorenzo’s name on the top. Why has that imbecile called in the middle of the night? Alex was frozen at the spot. His mind was blank and his skin sizzled under the intensity of her burning gaze. Lauren shifted her eyes from his unmoving figure and removed the warm quilt to climb out of the bed and enters the bathroom with tensed brawn.Alex tosses the phone aside and cups his forehead. Distressed. Why does he feel so distressed over something that has nothing to do with her? It is not like Lauren knows the agent and has met him before? She doesn't remember the past where the same Agent was a ruthless King who destroyed her nation. But she was tensed for some reason, and this raised his heartbeats. Leaving the bed, he peeks in the bathroom through the little slit from where the light from inside was shattering on the carpete
{A/N: PG-13. The following chapter isn’t written to hurt anyone feelings and contains abuse and violence. If you’ve a sensitive mind or heart, kindly skip it. You won’t miss anything important and can easily catch a brief in the next chapter. Thank You.}New YorkClick of her high heels reverberates in the empty hallway as she steps out of the elevators on the 15th floor and proceeds towards her well-furnished and luxurious penthouse. After a long day of multiple meetings and annoying clients, she finally managed to slip out of the office once being dismissed by her equally frustrated boss. For some reason, he was distant as compared to other days. Maybe he fought with his fiancée? Who cares as long he pays her well for this head-spinning job? She had to give it to him, not a day ago, his soon to be wife met an accident,
New York Tick TockTick TockTick TockThe wall clock at the corner of packed room sings with a uniform pace indicating the passing time. She sat quietly on the metal chair with her arms folded beneath her chest. The high-heeled boot taps the floor rhythmically and her knee bobs up and down as she glanced between the door and the clock once in a while. Though her face was blank, the perspiration of anxiety was seen at the side of her temple. She bit her lower lip in impatience and took deep breathes, suppressing the building urge of throwing up.“Sir, how long are we going to keep her here?”Agent Mc King asked in boredom to his senior, who was enjoying his coffee and studying the recent subject from behind the glass of the investigation room. His observant eyes didn’t move from her figure for a second as he studied all her actions. Agent Lorenzo Snow was trying to figure her out. Though the girl waiting in the lonely room looks innocent, she was a cunning little worm. Her name was o
At the Foot of the mountain of the Sacred Witch‘Valentina’He rustled in the darkness that fogged his vision, restricting him from seeing what lies ahead. ‘Valentina’The throat cramped and squeezed tight whenever he tried to speak, reducing the scream to a whisper that even he couldn’t hear. The rough palm of his bleeding knuckles grazed the soft and moist grass beneath him and his lungs immediately relaxed to let out a choked breath. His body felt heavy and numb as if he has fallen from a cliff all battered and bruised from a war. The spine cracked audibly when he conjured some will to move slowly. For the first time, his senses failed him. What happened all of a sudden? Why was he lying in such a compromising position with his body angled oddly? A wave of shock crawled up his back and he groaned before smacking his face in the same soothing grass.
21st CenturyNew YorkThe hour after Lauren revealed the troublesome parcel, Alexander contacts the private investigator- Detective Omar, who in return transfers the information to Lorenzo Snow. Lorenzo was on alert and was expecting another such attempt. The FBI agent was aware of a criminal’s psychology, and now he waited for someone to come into action and make a mistake. The news of parcel was taken positively and they immediately added the government surveillance team in the control room of headquarters. The peon who delivered the parcel was cornered and questioned for a day. After the investigation, it was cleared that he simply took it from the courier service of the industries where other parcels and letters arrive.With the help of CCTV footage, the picture of a man who supplied the estranged courier was retrieved.When Lorenzo first saw the picture of a tall burly man wearing d