I have arrived at the village of Seywal, a place that I have never heard of before and which seems so obviously made that it cannot be a coincidence that I have arrived upon it. Either the witches have used their wicked magic to guide me here or God has led me on the right path so that I may end their wickedness and ensure that His word will never be tainted by the blasphemers. I feel like I am in the right place judging by the aura I sense in the air, I can feel the magic trembling in my bones. A dark, powerful and ancient magic is in the air here. I have taken up lodgings at the house of a landlord here, a greedy man who only cares about money and is blind to the blasphemy that takes place around him.
*
I have met with the mullah at the mosque, and although he was supportive, I felt very disappointed meeting him. He is, like most religious men I have met, lacking true faith and only cares about himself. Nonetheless, he has agreed to help me with locating the Sey witches and has been promised a great deal of wealth by me and our creed, for the Lord does reward those who serve him through us.
*
There is a strange aura in the house, I can feel it. A strong source of magic but I cannot pinpoint it exactly. I have my suspicions, I believe someone in this house is aiding the witches. It is awfully convenient how the landlord’s wife makes such good food, a quality that I have noticed witches are naturally good at… No worries, however, I am sure that the Lord shall protect me for I have his recitations memorised by heart, no magic will be able to penetrate me, no matter how strong… THEY ARE HERE I SENSE THE MAGIC DEEP INSIDE ME THEY HAVE DISCOVERED ME I CAN FEEL THE DARK MONSTER INSIDE OH LORD PROTECT ME PROTECT ME FROM THE DARKNESS
Faizan turned to look at the grotesque scrawls that were like a continuation of the notes. The more he read them, the more it filled his heart with dread.
I HAVE FOUND THEM! THEY’RE HERE! THEY’RE ALIVE.
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I WILL BURN THEM TO THE STAKE! THE FUCKING WHORES!
BLASPHEMERS!
GOD WILL PROTECT ME!
GOD’S SWORD IS SHARPER THAN THE QUILL.
There were also many religious incantations written on the walls which he deduced from the notes to be duas (prayers) to protect him from the witches’ jinns. Faizan felt his head spinning and now his worry for his friends had skyrocketed. Has Shikhar gone crazy? Had he hurt his friends and the family? Maybe that's why there were gunshots in the door, as a means of self-defence by the owner. He cursed out loud. What kind of a madhouse had they arrived in? He could hear screaming outside and was wondering what the hell was up with the village.
That’s when his eyes fell on a neat looking dark-brown leather case buried among all the papers and notes. He lifted it up, it was light, and he placed it on the desk after making room for it by sweeping some notes off the desk.The case was empty but he could see marks embedded inside, of knives that had been held by the elastic supports inside. He could tell by the marks that the knives were menacingly long and lethal, the kind he imagined was used by hunters, torturers or assassins. If the notes were to be believed, Shikhar could qualify as all of them. This meant Shikhar was armed to the teeth with deadly weapons.
And he had gone crazy.
Faizan had to find his friends before he got to them.
He ran out the door almost, almost slipping over the sawdust and what he realised were small pellets that had fallen out of the wood from the shotgun. He checked his phone again for a signal but there was still none as he made his way to the front door.
With every step he took, his legs started to get heavier, like they were slowly filling up with lead. The shouting and screaming outside had grown louder and he was not ready to face them. He was just a normal city boy who had no experience dealing with villages, and from the stories he had heard of the horrors that would go on in some of them, he was not ready to deal with these savages. But his friends were still out there, and so was Hina. Hina. He needed to get out there and look for them, for her. He stood at the front door, his fists clenched, looking down with his eyes closed, struggling to summon up all of the inner courage he could muster.
She was out there somewhere and needed his help.
Get a hold of yourself!
Hina.
You need to grow some balls.
Save her. Save them.
Save her.
He opened the door as quickly and carefully as he could, making sure that it didn’t creak too much, and peered out from the corner into the driveway. Although he still wasn’t technically out of the house, having to still get past the outer gate, he was still wary about Shikhar. He had seen plenty of horror movies to know they struck when you least expected it.