The sudden violent gust of wind almost knocked him off his feet. And then, as if to give him one more warning, the first of the lightnings started flashing in the distance. Jagged white lines splitting the low inky black clouds, followed a second two later by the deep rumbling, crackling thunder.
A few brave seagulls were still flying about, their cries now mixing with the howling of the wind. The cheerful blue green sea of the morning had turned a mysterious and threatening dark blue. Wave after wave was pounding the rocks, turning into white spray, like a million tiny teeth trying to eat up the earth.
We have to go back now. He said. We will get cut off.
We can’t. We are already cut off. She had been standing facing the sea, watching the waves, but was looking at him now. Her face impassive. But he felt as if he could detect something in her eyes. He had noticed her eyes even in the morning when he had first seen her on the beach. It was as if there was a deep sadness hidden behind those pale grey eyes. It had been there even when she was laughing and smiling in the morning. But now there was something else. He couldn’t recognise what it was. But it seemed to remind him of something he couldn’t quite place his fingers on.
***
She was beautiful. That was the first thing which had struck him when he had seen her walking along the beach in the morning. Barefeet. Walking along the line where the waves were coming up to. Some just falling short of her feet. And some gently kissing them with their last breath.
Not the kind of beautiful you would see in a movie, or adorning the pages of a magazine or billboard. But a different kind of beautiful. A kind of pure and innocent and sacred looking beauty. It made him remember of the time he had gone on a trip to a ski resort and in the night, after everyone else had fallen asleep, walked out by himself on the icy slopes of the mountain and had seen the Himalayas all around him, glowing in the silent starlight.
She was the kind of beautiful that made his heart stop and his stomach tighten.
He had struck up a conversation. He didn’t know how. Striking up conversations with people he didn’t know, and that too beautiful girls, were not what one would call his forte. Maybe it was the way she smiled at him when she had looked up and seen him staring. Maybe it was the realisation that if he didn’t, he might regret it for the rest of his life.
Anyway, he had managed to start talking and then it had seemed easy. As if he had known her all her life. He had guessed, rightly, that she wasn’t from here. She was staying somewhere nearby for a few weeks. Probably the village down the road, he had thought. The one where he had stocked up in the morning for the day’s walk.
It was her day out walking too. She wasn’t exactly going in the same direction as he was but then, he didn’t mind. The whole areas was so beautiful. And she had mentioned about this secret island she had found. Just a mile from the coast. At low tide you could walk to it, over a narrow stretch of rocks.
It had taken them a couple of hours to reach the island. He had enjoyed chatting with her. Walking with her. She had seemed friendly; and interested. He had told her a lot about himself. She had told him a little. She liked travelling and walking. She liked desolate places and she liked the sea. Just like him. She also liked picnics.
She had a boyfriend once but lived alone now. Something had happened to him. She didn’t elaborate. He didn’t push. He had been secretly pleased to know that she was single now
He had been very aware of her. Of her body which he could almost see under that translucent white beach dress she had been wearing. It had left most of her shoulders and back bare. And he could see the little beads of sweat forming and making her skin glisten in the sun.
He had been very aware of her. Of the low huskyness of her voice. Of her hair, which the wind was sometimes blowing into his face, giving him a faint taste of her smell. A smell which seemed vaguely familiar.
The side of the island which faced the coast was nothing much to look at. Just like lots of those other jagged rocks which dotted the coastline in these areas. Some just a single rock, some bigger, big enough for a colony of what seemed like thousands of seagulls. From the coast this looked like one of those slightly bigger ones.
But if you came close enough to this one, you realised that it is not just a rock jutting out of the sea. But a proper island. Tiny. But still an island. And with traces of human habitation. You could see a series of almost imperceptible steps cut into the rock face, leading to the top. And when you reached the top, you were in for a surprise. Halfway down the rock, on the other side, shielded from the coast, was a little lighthouse (or at least what looked like the remnants of one). And then if you went down, there was this perfect little cove. Horse shoe shaped, with sand in between and rocks at the end of the horseshoes, almost cutting off the sea and creating a lagoon. The water was shallow and clear, you could see the bottom in most places.
They sat down on the beach, on a big towel she had in her bag. He was already quite hungry and gulped through half of his sandwiches. Leaving the rest for later. She didn’t want any. She was on some sort of a weird keto diet. Only meat. And that too once a day, in the evening.
She had got her book out and turned over, lying on her stomach.
He didn’t know what to do. It was an unusually warm day. And humid. And with very little breeze. He should have checked the weather before leaving. He was feeling hot and sticky in his jeans and T-shirt. The sea looked so inviting.
She seemed to guess what was on his mind. Go on, take a dip. The water here is usually nice and warm this time of the year. She had said.
Would love to. But I wasn’t actually planning on swimming today. Didn’t bring my trunks.
Go without them. Don’t worry. I won’t watch. And I don’t think anyone else will come here today. She had said in a slightly playful , teasing voice.
He had gone behind the rocks a bit further down the beach to take off his clothes. Furtively glancing back once or twice to see if she was watching. He had wanted her to watch. He wasn’t exactly proud of his body. But he was all right, not muscular but athletic, definitely not in the “a few extra pounds” category.
She hadn’t seemed interested. Still buried in her book when he had walked into the water naked. Not even glancing up once. Maybe it was just his imagination when he had thought she might be attracted to him. He had felt a little disappointed. And a little angry with himself.
The water had been worth it. Cool. Refreshing. And so unusually calm. He must have stayed in the water for at least an hour, if not more. Finally when he had come out and walked back to the rocks where he had left his clothes he had felt a moment of panic. His clothes were gone.
Hey, I have kept them here. She was sitting up now. Watching him. Patting his neatly folded pile of clothes which were beside her now. You kept them too close to the water. The sea could have carried them away. And as much as I am enjoying watching you now, I’m sure you wouldn’t like to walk back to civilisation like this. She said. Laughing now. With a twinkle in her eyes.
So you were watching me. He had said. He could feel himself getting excited. He had to cover his private parts with his hands. She was still looking at him.
Isn’t that what you wanted? She had said, throwing a towel at him. To dry yourself. And cover your modesty. And don’t get any ideas. Naughty boy!
She had seemed much more cheerful and flirty to him now than in the morning. But nothing much had happened. After teasing him a little about his sexy bum she had gone back to her book. And he had finished the rest of his sandwiches (she still refusing to have any) and had fallen asleep beside her. In his dreams he felt as if she had taken his head in her lap and was gently stroking his hair. And crying silently. Drops of tear slowly rolling down her cheek and falling on his face.
He had woken up with a start. It wasn’t tears. It was actually a drop or two of rain which had started falling and had woken him up. The sun had gone. The wind had picked up. Everything had become darker, colder. He had stood up with a start and when the sudden gust of wind had almost knocked him off his feet.
***
Why didn’t you wake me up before? We should have left much earlier. He had almost shouted at her. He felt angry. Angry at himself. Angry at her. And then felt ashamed for shouting.
I had fallen asleep too. And don’t worry. We can take shelter in the lighthouse. This should blow over soon.
It hadn’t blown over. If anything, the storm had only intensified. By the time they had made their way to the lighthouse, it had become almost become pitch black. Except for the occasional flashes of lightning. The thick stone walls of the lighthouse had kept the wind out but the it had no roof and very soon the rain had started drenching them. And then the waves had started rising.
As he had started growing worried, started shivering a bit in the cold, she had come closer to him. Hugging him. Taking his clothes off and drawing him into her warmth. She smelt sweet. Mesmerising. He had got a faint hint of the smell before. In the morning when the wind had blown her hair over his face. But now it had seemed to grow much stronger.
He had recognised the smell now. It was the smell of the Raat ki Rani flower. The queen of the night. There used to be a tree near his home. The flowers would bloom at night and drop off before dawn, forming a white carpet below the tree. His mother would warn him not to go near the tree at night. The flowers are dangerous. She would say. They attract snakes.
The waves were lapping at the base of the lighthouse now. It wouldn’t be very long before most of the island would be under water. He thought to himself. But yet he was feeling oddly calm. As though this was happening to someone else. As though a part of his brain knew what was happening but the part responsible for generating fear had just stopped functioning.
The sweeness of her smell was almost overwhelming. She had drawn his head into her breast, caressing him in their milky smoothness. She had her legs wrapped around him now. He was on her and inside her. They moved in unision, rhythmically, as she tried to pull him more and more into the wetness and warmth between her legs. As the water started touching them, he felt oddly happy, even ecstatic.
The last thing he ever saw was her face, when a sudden burst of lightning lit everything up for a second. She was looking at him. And he know knew what it was he had seen in her eyes earlier but couldn’t quite recognise. It was pity. She had tears streaming down her face, just like he has seen in his dream. And she was looking down at him with a mix of love and pity.
The last thing he ever heard was her moan, as he felt himself draining into her. And then he felt the warm stickiness of his own blood as her fangs drove deep into his neck.
***
With a sudden cracking sound and a flash of fire, something rose up into the sky, and then disappeared before one could blink one’s eyes. Almost as if it was never there. The commotion woke up a few hundred seagulls from their slumber. The only witnesses. No people around for miles. The seagulls settled down after a few minutes and once more the only sounds you could hear were the howling of the wind and the crashing of the waves.
Invictus 
