Friday, September 12, 2014

Witch-hunter.

He woke up swearing. The fever dreams were always so vivid and almost always appalling. He vaguely remembered the whole dream, yet some parts were still there; like an after taste from a very strong piece of cheese. The part where his girlfriend did not want to get up from her pet's embrace even to say good-byes to him was one. She didn't even open her eyes, although they both knew they won't be seeing each other for a long while. The part where he wakes up (in the dream) to see a man and a woman speaking in hushed tones was the other one. They got into the wrong house apparently, but they were already inside the locked house. Well, the thing about dreams is that they didn't have to be logical in any sense. Then the girl undresses, wears another dress and leaves with the guy.

Enough about dreams. Now he had other things to be taken care of. He was a 'witch-hunter' in the modern world; but what he was hunting can scarcely be called witches. He was commissioned by a very large and powerful religious institution to hunt and fetch the girls who had married outside their religions. These 'treacherous wenches' has chosen to defile their mighty god. He was supposed to hunt them down, kill their men and bring the girls back to these religious leaders. He was not to hurt the girls, unnecessarily. He was never to sexually harass them either; although hurting young girls was never his thing, even for money. But he doubted if it was the same with the lofty high priests of the religious order.

One thing that he always made sure of is that he would never work for the same religion more than once. After all, there are hundreds of religions and sub-religions; and hence no dearth of new employers. And the job is always the same; pay is always good. He packed his bag and took a look at the photograph in his wallet. It was so ironic to think that he does this all to give  a comfortable life to his two daughters.

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