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Eclipse- A War of Words

Eclipse

Page | 166

 

ECLIPSE

A War of Words

By

Elancharan Gunsekaran

All rights reserved

Copyright © 2016 Elancharan Gunasekaran

Special Acknowledgement

This literary work is dedicated to war heroes both living and dead. Soldiers, medics and brave hearts, who have stood on the frontlines of war. This is for the men and women, who have risked their everything to protect their family, friends and nation.

Embrace It

Blood everywhere.

Torn bodies everywhere.

Still I stand.

Open Fire

One command.

Bullets rip the air.

Death.

Blazing Skies

Not even the sun,

could brighten the sky and

gloom so many lives.

Burnt Grass

I lay still.

The charred bodies piling on top of

me.

Reality Flare

From everywhere they swarmed.

An army of armed- ants.

One hand lighted the flare

while the other

held on to my cross.

Serpents and Rod

Blood runs out.

Life runs dry.

Medics sit on the fence, reviving

the damned.

Letters for Tomorrow

In silence,

I write.

Hoping words would reach

my love,

before my body does.

Sirens of Sorrow

Taking belongings,

we run.

Bombs drop,

adding cries to siren winds.

Hell Hounds

A whiff.

A taste,

is all it needs.

Chasing down the trails of

lost souls.

Pen to Paper

All I could manage

was just one word.

Help.

Reality Shift

My world was calm.

In 3 seconds,

it became hell.

Calm Shooter

Odds against him.

He fires,

turning the odds of fate.

Black March

Boots crunch the soil,

bringing the screams of

fear.

Flying Deaths

Defeated in the air.

Coffins come crashing

down.

Shockwave

Eyes closed,

the light seeped through.

Blurring our visions

as atomic winds swept in.

Fleeing Coward

Something in his head,

told him to run and so he did.

Dying,

as soon as he turned his back

on his enemies.

Wonder of the World

The world exploded before me.

Seconds passed.

Replaying forever in

my mind.

Shock Tactics

It felt like a dream.

Men,

dying and screaming

in their sleep.

Fields of Death

Festering wounds,

spread across the lands.

Enslaving the living to disease.

Gift of Choice

Leave one bullet.

This one,

will save you

from suffering.

True Wars

True love.

Lives on.

In war,

In friendship

and marriage.

Until the End

Fighting on.

Winning scars

and freedom at last.

Nothing to Lose

Digging into trenches.

We wait.

Eager to return fire.

Without Regret

Soldiers engage.

Killing innocents

in crossfire.

Survival 101

Lips crack.

Maps tell of enemy plans.

But nothing on survival.

Never Forgotten

Medals worn with pride.

Tears roll,

in memory of pals.

Walking Storm

Footsteps thunder.

Inviting rain

to solemn doorsteps.

Vanguard

He ran,

charging alone into the enemy forces.

Inspiring his comrades,

taunting his foes.

Second Name

Dog tags embed in the mud.

Waiting patiently, to be

reunited

with its owner.

Gunned Down

Point blank,

the barrel stares at me.

Fear is lost forever.

I give myself to the bullet.

Forced Entry

Storming through doors with our obsidian rifles,

in rage.

We came face to face,

pointing guns at innocent strangers.

No Man Left Behind

All his weight on me.

I would bring him home,

alive or dead.

That’s what brothers do.

Special Operations

Alone I surface.

Every action masked with perfection.

You see my kills.

But you will never understand,

the burdens I carry.

Doctor Hope

Every heartbeat a hope.

I refuse to give up.

I refuse to let a life turn into nothing.

“Don’t you die out on me!” , I scream.

Scavenging,

what I can of humanity,

back into the body.

Explosive Miracle

The ground trembles.

Every shot, I dodge…

Every explosion, I pass….

Every minute out here,

I survive.

It makes me stronger.

It keeps me alive.

Metals Birds of Prey

Finger on the trigger.

I go in for the kill.

There can only be one of us,

up here in the sky.

Me, me, me.

Countdown

Timer locked and set.

10 seconds to go.

Boom!

The world goes up in smoke.

C4s,

bringing down the wheels of revolution.

Signal Lost

I still remember your voice.

Screaming over

the static of death.

Telling you to hang in there.

Silence.

Recruit

They told me I would grow up.

They said I would learn to be a man.

Yet,

all around me were boys carrying guns.

Men,

forged in the heat of war.

Final Prayer

I took my time.

Making sure that each word is heard.

Loud and clear.

True Leader

He sees the goal.

You do not.

You see risks.

He turns them

into opportunity.

Negotiation

Words are exchanged.

Tactics…

Words…

Seconds….

Enough time for hesitation,

as a bullet races to its target.

Battle Scars

I wear them proud.

With pride,

I walk.

I’ve seen them all.

The good,

the bad

and the dying.

Deep Sea

Eyes,

watch for movement.

In the cradle of currents.

Warships,

playing an endless game

of hide and seek

Peace of Mind

Years of fighting,

have taken its toll.

On mind,

body

and soul.

I still hear,

the screams of past.

I remind myself,

that I’ve made today

a happier place.

Hell Week

Every muscle,

put to the test.

Without rest,

the mind goes mad.

Pushing you to

the brink.

Turning you

into a beast.

Last Dance

I would hold on to her smell.

Forever…

Uniform and dress,

waltzing to the beat.

Tears in her eyes,

as I said,

“Good bye…”

Shadow Silos

Sleeping nukes,

hidden away.

Till the day of desperation.

A day,

should history repeat itself.

Terror Particles

Death,

has found its way

into the air.

Airborne

Every jump I take,

without any regrets.

Every time I land,

I look towards the heavens.

Eager to return,

to my skies.

Steel Will

Days,

he lies in wait.

Marking his prey.

Planning his escape.

One shot is all he needs.

No one,

has to know.

Shining Medals

Wise eyes

see the sacrifice,

behind rows of

polished pride.

Lucky Charm

He carries her into battles.

Scarves…

Bracelets…

Pendants….

To remind him.

To return home.

She waits….

Traitor

No explanation given.

No time to react.

Just a blade,

driven straight into the spine.

My Wife

From the day I met you…

I knew it had to be you…

Beside me.

In my arms.

My support,

when I was down.

You saved me

from terrors.

My rifle,

you will forever be mine.

Apocalypse

One by one.

They blasted away.

Rockets.

Missiles.

Torpedoes.

Satellite eyes watched,

as hell bombarded

the earth.

Treaty

Peace presented,

on a slip of paper.

Words meaningless,

to the traumatized and wounded.

Conspirators,

finding loopholes

to bring back war.

Shadow Wars

In the night,

the dead dark.

Men are killed.

Sacrifices are made.

Away from

the eyes of day.

A balancing act of

the good and bad.

Commercial Blood

To the highest bidder,

goes the guns.

Marketplaces,

filled with bombs.

Ethics eradicated,

in the face of conflicts.

Jungle Survival

30 days,

without outside contact.

He prowls,

acting on primal instincts.

Beast awakened,

he returns

to civilization.

Cold Blood

They piled at his feet.

Bodies of the slain.

Bodies,

showing no sign of pain.

Massacred.

In the name

of delusional gods.

My Way

Adrenaline

of fighting.

Fighting for your life.

After 3 tours,

I’m back home, lazing on my couch.

I hated every minute of it.

Next morning,

I arrived in the midst of chaos.

To the

battlefield.

Wide Awake

Gunshots ringing in my ears.

Every night,

the same damned dream.

Men and women,

screaming in pain.

Against a backdrop of

violent flames.

Running Rounds

Compass making no sense.

Round and round

In a world of

green and leaves.

I wait for night.

Stars point true,

leading me into secrecy.

Blood Blade

In honour,

I receive.

In honour,

I kill.

Facing my enemies,

uprooting their pride.

Knowing my name as

life runs dry.

Behind Masks

All is hidden.

The unbreakable will

of a human soul.

This mask I wear,

will forever remind you of

fear.

Cold Death

White as snow.

One with the ice.

Black barrels aim.

Ready to

kill.

Fragments

Pull of the pin.

Ball-bearings,

scatter.

Ripping reality into a

waking grave.

Command School

Going to this school

is going

to war.

Breaking Bones

Broken on

the battlefield.

Bones are the least of

our worries.

The spirit

is strong.

Reflection

Mirrors do not lie.

They remind you

of terrors.

They remind you

of you.

You are

alive.

Nightmares

Every soldier

on the

battlefield,

takes home a

template of horror.

Waking up

every night,

to soundless screams.

Surrender

When one

can no longer bear

the sight of death,

giving up is the

only option left.

Military Heritage

Guns on the wall.

Medals on

public showcase.

Dictators dream of

world domination.

Classrooms empty,

youths enter the

battlefield.

Heir

War runs

in the blood.

Passed down,

in word and fury.

Generation after generation,

of despair

and mindless worship.

Second Home

On lands where

I’ve spilled the

blood of innocents,

I live.

I hope to repent.

To do what I can for the people.

And if I must,

I will fight for them.

Rising Morale

Words enter ears.

Inciting

the mind.

Waking

the soul.

Victory,

is within our reach.

Raining Fire

Mirrored eyes,

scan the skies.

From blue

to orange.

It rained down

in flames.

Heaven and hell,

switched their roles.

Digging Graves

Bodies blanket

the lands.

In death and decay.

And so we dig.

Dig our own graves.

No need to

fight with the rest,

For a place

to rest.

Pitch Black

I have

no fear

of the dark.

I only

fear

the consequences of my actions,

when the lights

are turned back on.

Blacking Out

The thunder of

supersonic shells.

Darkness clouding

my sight.

Peace.

Lie Detector

Sensors show no sign.

Behind countless masks

you hide.

Yet, in that final moment,

your eyes

give everything away.

Final Orders

As life

let go of its hold,

he made it count with

a single word.

Survive.

Battered Barriers

Day after day,

it grows thinner.

Breaking the bonds

of brothers.

Merging bullets

with flesh.

Steel Body

He feeds on

physical pressure.

He pushes his tendons

beyond their limits.

High on

rushing blood.

Metal Winds

Winds,

remind you of change.

Metal demons,

spitting fire from the sky.

Carnage.

Killer Price

Once,

we killed for and

with honour.

Times have changed….

Today,

we’d do anything for

hard cash.

Name your price.

Sun Sacrifice

For a better

world.

For his loved ones.

He challenges

the skies,

with one

final dive.

Waking to Apocalypse

Dreams

speak of family.

The serenity of

a safe haven.

Eyes open

to explosions,

laughing

in my face.

Trumpets of Honour

The sound

of gunfire.

The wails

of the living.

Guns raised,

trumpets blow to guide you

into the

afterlife.

Plastic Protection

Six months,

between claustrophobic walls.

No sight

of romance.

Docked and loaded,

condoms

fill pockets.

Tasteless Wonders

Hunger

kills the strongest.

Make time to eat

amidst the

destruction.

Eat

what you can,

make your taste buds

forget.

Missing Out

Goggles

magnify unspoken beauty.

Lost for words.

Bodies glide,

dead

among the

roses of corals.

Mutilated Mercy

Forgiveness asked,

falling at feet.

Smiling,

he cuts at throats.

One at a time,

leaving blood

to talk.

War Ritual

Sitting

in silence.

Camouflage I paint,

etching the

colour of death.

My mind

screams,

“Death to my enemies.”

No Matter What

Right or wrong,

it never matters.

Live or die,

It’s in your hands.

Win at

all cost.

Research Roulette

No time

for animals.

Humans,

give up on

humanity.

The beasts we become,

to survive.

Rise

The world

is yours.

Take it,

dominate it.

Carve your

perfect world.

And may you,

live forever.

The Voices Within

Glow of blazing fires

Bone-chilling scream of cries

Alone he runs into uncertainty

Into the mischief of

The darkest of nights…

Come over here.

The voice in my head, it leads me. Male or female I do not seem to recognize. A cool inviting tone to it though.

Get over here.

The voice beckons me closer, drawing me off the sandy trail and into the bushes away from the march of boots. Friend or enemy? Who could it be and how in the world did it get inside my head.

Ramu.

He knew my name. He called out to me from beyond the darkness of the uninviting jungle. Why had the voice not called out to me before. This being could have warned me, warned us all while there was time. A god? No. It was too good to take this voice to be that of our creator. And now my kampong, my beloved village has been razed to the ground. My family no more. I was alone. Only final memories of the family I once had remained. My father, screaming wildly, charging into the fray of uniformed men, wielding the parang of our ancestors. A sight that would remind me of his bravery and one that would forever, bring tears to my eyes.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

My father fell to the ground clutching the blood red wounds across his body. “Amma!” he screamed in pain, calling out to grandma to take him away from this world. Only moments later, he lay motionless. My mother’s hard toiled hands holding me in place underneath the raised platforms of our wooden-attap home. She cupped my mouth with her other hand struggling to keep my violent spasms in check. Villagers, my friends were felled one after another. The uniformed men held long black metallic weapons that bellowed and released fumes of smoke. Yet, people covered in their own blood laid in the dirt. How did they die? Was this some sort of magic? I had a name for these weapons,” Black death”. These men were my enemies and one day they will be defeated. For no enemy shall die without knowing my name. My thoughts trailed me as I ran towards the voice. Was I mad?

No. You are nearly there.

And there it was, an answer to my thoughts. It was impossible. Whatever it was it could hear my thoughts. Why did you not come for us? The throbbing it came back. I stopped to catch a breath. The pain in my head, it pulsed through my body. My head threw itself back as I lost control of my limbs and the spasms set in again. Losing conscience, the voice whispered again.

Don’t stop.

I had to, I was tired and now this. My mother if only she were here. Holding me against her chest, telling me everything is going to be okay. My eyes rolled back as I saw the white of my heavens. I dropped to the ground, in the throes of a violent possession. Evil spirits it seemed were attracted to me, my mother would always say to me after each ‘possessed’ session. True or not, I did not care. Her words were all that mattered. Awhile ago, she lay in a heap at the feet of the khaki-green clad men. Her final message to me ringing in my ears:

Run Ramu.

She said, the voice said, pushing me in the direction of the forested path into darkness. I blacked out. A sliver of my mind remained intact, replaying the death of mother. Her battered sari, flying with the winds. She ran in the opposite direction towards her murderers. The winds held her blue sari trying to prevent her sacrifice. Her will to protect was strong. She defied the elements. Her death would not be vain, she knew. Towards the killers who approached us she ran, arms up. She screamed in a language foreign to the thin-eyed men. They hardly blinked, could they have been from somewhere beyond this land, from the skies above? The group of tight clad killers consisted of six men. Each armed with a Black Death and short sword strapped to the sides of their thighs. Some carried bags, others a waist belt full of round shell-like acorns. Why would a killer carry acorns? Mother, she drives her body into the group trying to push them back. One moment, she seemed like she would succeed. Hands reached out, grappling her by the neck, turning her around to face me as I stood frozen in my tracks. Her eyes, the voice, spoke to me in a way I could have never imagined.

Run Ramu.

The man whipped out his sword. In a single fluid motion he slit mother’s throat. “Ammaaa…” a whimper was all I could muster in fright. It lasted for just one moment. Then anger, survival kicked in. A strange feeling rocketed in my veins, fuelling me to take my eyes off my dying mother. It gave me the courage to plunge into the wilderness of the night. “Kawaii eh!” the killers laughed and shouted. I would remember him. The one who held the sword to her throat. His pale skin glowing under the moon’s light. His wicked smile and the insignia on a bandana tied around his head. A symbol, that seemed like the Sun, shining its rays. I will never forget. His death was mine.

Wake up.

The voice, woke my sleeping mind. My body felt light. Had I too, died? No. It just did not feel right. I had to survive. I remember now. The spasms, the evil spirits. It was all the work of demons. Yet, here I was somehow in the belly of my greatest fear. The demon of darkness. It frightened me to the very core. For hours I had been running. What was I doing? Here I am lying against the cool carpet of grass, eyes closed. My body, refusing to move.

Get up boy.

Eyelids ached under the pressure of trying to open them. The distorted, smoky images before me. The ghastly trees with forked branches arcing out towards me. It scared me. Everything I have been through tonight had scared the living life out of me. Of course it would have, I was only twelve years of age. I had every reason to be afraid. I flexed my fingers and then my toes. Making sure I was not bleeding. Slowly, I coerced my body into obeying me. Turning to the side, pushing myself up on an elbow, I sat up. Good. One hand against the ground, a knee bent in, I pushed myself forward onto my knees. Heaving, mists escaped my mouth. Looking towards the sky, there were no stars. Black clouds shadowed the sky lights of Singapore. I had to move. The voice was it real?

I am real. Now move.

And I did, onto my feet. I held back the tears of grief. I started off with a slow jog, trying to wear off the lethargic strain on my joints. Under my breath I muttered a small prayer to the gods. To keep me safe, till the time and day of vengeance. I followed my heart to where the voice was hiding. So far, I was right. Taking less notice of my eerie surroundings and putting more effort in getting to my destination. Running into oblivion never was my first choice. What more could go wrong tonight. Then it came, the thump of boots echoed across the wall of trunks. Sounds bounced back and forth, predators trying to find the location of the prey. Focus lost, I stepped around in a daze. I had to get my bearings right. Lantern lights sprayed out in random directions as the soldiers came closer towards me. Where was I supposed to run to? I called out into the night. Silently in my mind reaching out to the voice. Questions screaming out into the abyss:

Where do I go? Help me.

Which way?

Please. I need you now.

Silence was all I got. So much for trying to talk to a ‘voice’ in my head. The rays reached out closer to me. Hot on my heels, the lights burnt a path for the killers to the source of a lonely beating heart. Mine. Wedging myself between a small space at the foot of a mango tree, I calmed myself. I took in deep breaths and focused on relaxing. I somehow managed and reached out into the beyond.

Help me.

Show me the way.

I waited and the lanterns grew brighter.

You learn fast.

Straight ahead.

Don’t stop moving.

This time I ran. I took my chances with this voice thing inside of me and now I was sprinting across bushes and heavy overgrowth to reach this person. It had to be a person. I did not know what was waiting for me beyond these hideous trees. It could be death. Then again, it felt right.

Nearly there.

I stepped into a clearing surrounded by the ring of nature. There it stood in the middle, a small hut. Good for two, no more. Made of straw, it held under the strong winds that have come to blow all night. A string of smoke escaped the tent and wandered into the air. I crept close to the hut trying not to make any noise. I stopped, about ten metres from it. Options began to form in an instant. Option one: Say “Hello” and if he comes out with a chopper, run. Option two: Creep close and sneak a peek from one of the windows. If it is a human say “Hello” and if it were a demon or two, run. Either way my chances of survival were slim. Risk was something I was willing to take the moment I stepped into this hell. Decision made, I would go with option two and take a closer look. I had made good distance and there were no lights in sight. It would be good to find out who my saviour was. I crept about and circled towards the hut. Anticipating the glow of bright lights, there was none. I dropped to a crawl as I neared the tent. Moving slowly and patiently, I made it to the window. I stood up, my knees creaked under the strain of my sore body. At the moment, I thought, it would have turned. There sited on the floor facing the door was a man. Thin, striated muscles streaked across his back as he puffed on the smoke pipe that protruded from his face. What do I do now?

Come in, child.

And so I did after standing there shell-shocked at his request. He did it without turning around. The voice was clear and it was definitely inside my head. How did he do it? As I walked past the window, my eyes caught the glint of a curved-wavy blade sticking out of his hip scarf. Could it be? A kris, the prized possession of Bomohs- shamans of the indigenous people. Witch doctors of the east. Where there were real doctors in this world, these men chased evil spirits and lived in a world of elusive magic. Solitude and penance a trademark of these spiritual-human beings. At the entrance of the hut I stood looking like a hunted animal in dishevelled hair and dirt. He sat neither alarmed nor bothered. His eyes were rolled back revealing the whites of his eyes. A moment of awkwardness, his body shivered and the eyes rolled down. His piercing powerful gaze fell upon me. Searching for what remained of my grieving soul, lifting his hand, palm facing the roof. His fingers curled in a continuous slow motion, beckoning me to step in.

Don’t be afraid.

Come inside.

The boy was careful. He came inside frightened of what he had been through and what he saw before him. The immense pain in his fractured soul, he wanted to survive. But more than anything else, he wanted revenge. He wanted to kill the Japanese soldiers. The men who had left him to bear the burdens of this savage world. Ramu, watched me as I watched him. He moved just beside the entrance, standing there. Waiting for me to speak. His mind racing. I could feel, sense his fears. And so I spoke to him with my mind

Sit, boy.

He sat down quietly. His mind was in turmoil. A million unanswered questions. “Who are you?” Ramu asked. I cocked my head to the side. This was the English language, I have heard about. The language of the white-skinned conquerors. The boy was educated, bless be his parents. Cursed was he to lose them at a ripe young age. I could not speak English. My body movement showed my curiosity. In an instant, Ramu repeated the question in Melayu and I understood. What a fine child he was with those intuitive eyes.

You know what I am.

Bomoh.

I live with nature.

His eyes lighted up. He knew I conversed in Melayu, the language of my people and my ancestors before me. “How did you…” Ramu’s voiced trailed.

You realized your fear.

Your senses are heightened.

We talk with our mind.

Before his next question was asked. I told him my name.

Ali.

Before I could say more, the winds brought back news of the snake-eyed men who approached my home, whispering softly into my ears the secrets; their weapons and the plight of the villages. There will be no mercy. The light of lanterns shone past the array of trees. I will have to act fast or they will kill us both.

Sit still.

Stay quiet.

I will protect you.

Staring into the darkness, I slipped within myself. One with my soul, I reached out to the spirits of the forest, those who were willing to help. To aid me and the boy in our quest for revenge, I called out to them to blind the fools in the jungles. Winds grew wilder, leaves were swept up in powerful gusts, hitting the perpetrators with the might of the elements. Putting out their lights and disorienting them. Clouds rushed past, positioning, cloaking the light of the moon. Darkness overtook what remained of the soldiers’ sanity, pushing them back into the depths of the jungle. Pale wisps emerged from the ground, the trees and everything living. Invisible to typical human eyes, swirling around the soldiers, the wisps floated in front of their faces. The hut shielded, showing them visions of an empty land. To the enemies, there was no hut. Snapping out my trance, the boy watched my every move. I stood up and moved to the window. I motioned with my head for Ramu to follow. We watched as the confused soldiers walked in circles beyond the trees, shouting to one another of their misery. I could taste the fear of the soldiers. Slowly but surely it was emerging. The moment fear appeared; all was lost. The Japanese walked around the empty land as a group. Towards the direction of sea winds, they intended to flee, the soldiers knew something was not right here in the cradle of trees. There will be no escape. Their fates have been sealed the moment they drew the blood of innocents. Ramu look curiously at me, waiting for an answer.

It is not over.

They will pay in blood for their sins.

Hand placed on Ramu’s shoulder, I led him outside, to the back of the hut. There we saw the soldiers moving slowly towards the sea. There boats of soldiers awaited their comrades in the jungle. Foolish men, who have taken the lives of innocent souls. The armed unit was confused and panicked, losing focus of their goals, directions. Assaulted by the invisible spirits, they seek the grounds of sand. The sound of waves, the sea was just beyond the trees. They moved towards the crash of waves. The sea winds failed in helping the men locate the beach. The Japanese were in peril. No fire to light the way. Nothing to guide them, other than the sound of crickets and waves. Stubbornly they moved on. I made up my mind. Ramu’s vengeance would be shared with the plight of the dead. The dead souls whispered to me. Begging me to kill, torment them.

Ramu, they shall die.

Their blood will be on my hands.

Ramu looked up at me. His young face eager for revenge. The blood rushing to his ears. He smiled at me. I nodded to him, no reaction on my face. The time had come. I walked forward, with Ramu on my heels as we headed towards the cradle of Mother Ocean. Taking a faster route, guided by the spirit folk. The path was simple and held no obstacles. The dirt track was lighted by the wisps. Ramu saw their fleeting images lighting each step of the way. He was curious but he kept quiet. His mind was focused on the death of the soldiers. The imaginative mind of a child. He was young both in age and mind. Yet, his mind came up with the most imaginative ways a person could die. It pained my heart to look into his thoughts, to hear his silent cries. In less than an hour, we reached the milky white shores of the beach. Here the moon held its position in the sky. Refusing to be blacked out by the clouds, it reflected its rays, playing with the illusions of seawater.

Mother Ocean,

I am here.

Ramu could sense my thoughts. His fears have brought him close to the point of madness. He could now reach out to me. Hear me for what I am. A blessing it was to have someone who could finally read my thoughts. The waters beckoned us closer. The waves inviting us into its abyss. The sea had a killers’ feel to it. The horrors of the seas lurked beneath the calm waves. On its waters were the boats of the Japanese fleet. The majestic sun insignia painted, printed on flags and banners. The boats rocked on the calm sea unknowing of the dark souls that stood on the threshold of forest and sand.

Come, my child.

We will finish this before the break of day.

Ramu, looked up at me face, stern. He mustered a rigid smile and reached out.

Yes,

Uncle Ali, it will all end tonight.

Calling on the spirits of the sand and sea, they arrived. Heeding the call of the Bomoh, the otherworldly beings arrived in millions of shades and shapes, they poured in a fountain from the sea and trees around us. Waves increased in size as the alarmed naval soldiers took to the helms trying to steady the vessels. The elements knew with this much power it required sacrifices. Not just any but powerful sacrifices to appease them. I was willing to give myself up for the greater good. Would Ramu? I should be not be thinking about sacrificing a child. This spiritual presence, it just was not enough to lay waste to an entire army.

Uncle Ali, I will do it.

Take me with you.

I looked at him. My eyes gave away the sorrow of having to do this to a child of such calibre. I had promised the dead. Revenge would be served in royal portions. Tears emerged from my eyes at the sacrifice of this child before me. The gods would witness our sacrificial union. Humans will never remember us but the gods will sing a tale of blood and honour. I took his bruised hand and looked into his soul, one last time. There I saw his emotions, his thoughts and ambitions. Colourful and beautiful was his soul in preparation for the afterlife. He wanted this for his family, for those who had given up their lives for him. He would too now, knowing that it would not be in vain. He urged me to make it quick and painless.

Please Unlce Ali,

let us do this.

Unsheathing the kris, I held it to the sky. Reaching out to Ramu; linking our hearts, minds and souls. Together as one, we left this world into a state of trance. Speaking to the elements in an ancient tongue:

Hear me old ones

There is no greater power

No greater than sacrifice

[_ Today, we gladly give you- our essence _]

In return for power, for vengeance

Take our souls so we may shed

Blood and rip apart our enemies

Answer our humble call old ones

Two figures on the shores of the murky sea caught the eyes of the gods. They blessed both, of the sacrifice to be made. The gods’ will course virulently through our bodies. I took the boy’s hand cupping it in mine. Kris held across his palm. Ramu felt the cold steel against his throbbing palm. He nodded to me. I reached out one last time to him, into his mind. I took away his pain, numbing his body. He flinched, for just an instant and stood still when he realized that he could feel no pain as the blade slit across his palm. Young blood of innocence was drawn. Placing his bleeding palm below, I slit mine. His bleeding hand in mine, I led him across the sandy shores. The warm sand against our feet, the winds blow in praise of our sacrifice. The blood dripped from our deep cuts igniting the roar of spirits. The elements danced in our favour. Wind, sand and sea were now one. The placid sea turned to life. Winds and waves became violent. Together we entered the ice cold waters of the sea. Blood mixed with the waters of the sea. Horrors within sprang to life. Blood had called out to them, reviving them of an ancient blood thirst. They would come for us soon. We waded in till I was waist deep while Ramu in waters at the tip of his chin. He looked at me with a glow on his face. The boy was brave and strong.

Thank you, Uncle Ali.

It brought tears to my eyes. No child will understand the pain of an adult. Our feelings and complex thoughts, it seemed like eternity in my own world. I hope to see the boy again in the afterlife and if there were another life after this in the real world. I hoped to see him once again. I had to complete this and I assured myself.

Be brave child,

it will all be over soon.

Strong waves crashed upon us as the awakened horrors swam to the surface, escaping the abyss. Towards the source of blood they came. Black as the night, these underwater spirits surrounded us, swirling in circles. Drawing close, upon drinking the diluted blood, there was a moment of silence. Then it came, the inhuman shriek of something from the beyond. They grabbed us both. In a single motion we were dragged beneath into the deep waters. Eyes closed. I reached out to Ramu.

Close your eyes.

Do not look them in the eye.

The boy did as he was told. The spirits dragged them down from where they came, sucking the blood out of already pale veins. The darkness drew closer for us both. In one mind we saw our life essence being depleted. Darkness closed in. Finally nothing remained. Our souls given in sacrifice for revenge.

Goodbye Ramu.

No reply. The child was gone from this world. In moments, so would I too. The black darkness floated before latching onto my soul. Tugging violently, refusing to let go. A mighty heave it gave, before dragging my soul out. In that moment, before I blacked out. I cursed with all my might. Into the abyss, I followed Ramu and the Taker of Souls.

Die, fools.

Doom

The soldiers, reorganized and regrouped emerged from the jungle. They shouted in glory and said prayers to their gods. Gods who looked down in disgust upon them all for the crimes they have committed. Rape, pillaging and killing were just some of their vile deeds. Down the beach they moved towards the anchored boats. One of the soldiers then pointed to figures wading into the sea. Just then, they heard the bone-chilling cry of something out-of-this world. The two figures were dragged into the water. The soldiers panicked and ran quickly trying to locate the nearest vessel. The waves became unstable and the winds howled in pain. The soldiers huddled in fear. There was no way their comrades could reach shore in this weather. The clouds had darkened, heavy rain poured from the depressed heavens. Black smoky figures emerged from the sand and approached the uninvited soldiers. Metres away they, the spirits, dived back into the sand causing the ground to tremble. The huddled soldiers broke apart. Some ran for their lives, others stood rooted to the ground. Sand-like tendrils burst from the ground, dragging soldiers into unending pits. Others were thrown into the air, ripped apart limb by limb. Evil blood was splattered over the area and on the faces of the remaining, living soldiers. They scattered in all directions. Lightning hammered into a soldier, setting him on fire and burning him to crisp. Others were engulfed by the sand, trapped in a tomb and then crushed to death. The taste of blood was left in the ground. Boats were overturned and crushed by giant waves. Hungry spirits siphoned the life and blood of victims. Throwing the soldiers from boats, latching onto them like demon leeches. The elements grew into frenzy as the remaining soldier ran across the beach, trying to escape the inevitable. The soldier, who had killed Ramu’s mother. The man, wearing the bandana of the rising sun. The stretch of beach seemed like an apocalypse on one end but on the other the sun was rising. This side of the world would be breaking into dawn. The soldier ran with everything he had. He had hope, a hunch that these creatures would not approach daylight. There in the void, Ramu and Ali watched, as the Japanese ran. He would never escape. Now one, boy and Bomoh, screamed in rage. Chanting the words of doom, their wrath descended in violent magic across the real world.

Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!

The soldier ran, kicking off his boots and taking off the top of his defiled uniform. Black spirits raced after him as darkness and light seek to clash. The gods watched the pitiful sight of the human running for his life across the sands. He would never make it. And so he ran, towards the great divide of light and dark. The line would separate his death from mercy. Without remorse for his deeds he ran on. He was about to reach sanctuary. Seconds away from survival, Ali emerged, a black spirit from the sand in front of the soldier. Snarling menacingly, showing the darkness deep within him. Diving into the sand, he emerged again from behind the rooted man, strangling him with an arm. Ramu appeared, black as the night. Peeking rays of light turned into fumes of smoke upon the touch of his body. Without emotion, he calmly walked across to the soldier. Smiling, as he looked up at Ali. Without warning and the Sun at his back he screamed at the soldier who struggled to break free. The man wept, tears falling like the rain that drenched him. He wet his pants, sobbing uncontrollably at the screaming demonic child before him. He was muttering something, wide-eyed in the throes of fear. Ali took out a smoky obsidian kris, brandishing it before the soldier’s throat. He cut into the soldier’s throat, plunging it in. The soldier chocked, an immense pain rocked his body. Blood sprayed from arteries and veins as the Bomoh, stabbed repeatedly. The soldier shook violently, as the blood dripped from the body before going limp. Throwing the carcass to the ground, Ali showed the cursed blood on the kris to the boy. Ramu stopped screaming, looking down at the body of the dead mutilated soldier. The blood on his body and Ali’s glimmered in the waking sun. Together they reached out.

The Deed is done.

Ramu ran head first with the bloodied Bomoh on his heel, towards the break of sunlight. The Sun greeted the strangers in black, blasting forth its light obliterating the darkness. Gods prayed, forcing the wrath of spirits back into the underworld. Here, in this world, the Sun was law and order. Singapore had returned to its original state. There was going to be a new beginning from this end. The history of those who have given their lives to protect will be remembered. Their selfless sacrifices have not gone to waste. The worst is over. The story is hidden in the winds. The tale of a boy and a Bomoh: The ultimate sacrifice for family, for the country. They will live in the grains of the crimson dyed sands beneath a layer of white, watching over our nation. For when our enemies return to this soil, they will be ready to defend us all.

The End

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About the Author

Elancharan is an exhibiting artist and poet. He resides in Singapore with his family and cat, Leo. He has a strange love for all that is poetical and Sci-Fi.  He is the author of several, modern poetry collections. His poetry works has been published worldwide, on various international print and online platforms. To view his intriguing array of creative works visit Instagram: @elancharan or Twitter: @elancharang


Eclipse- A War of Words

Eclipse- A War of Words, is the epitome of human madness, the rage and fires of war. The work puts together the words, feelings and fears of soldiers alive and fallen from battlefields to home. The trauma, the damage, the life-changing experience of war on one's psychological and personal wellbeing. Eclipse, transcends the body and mind, into a different plane of poetical experience; pushing the boundaries of standard poetry notions. War has ravaged humanity as far as we could go back into history, why are wars still being fought? Are wars necessary in this age of technological and social advancement? The collection explores the physical, mental and socio-cultural impacts of wars on our world. Wars are fought every single day. Between the mind and body. Between the soul and the unseen. Within the body, wars are taking place, between humans and relationships, wars are taking place. On the battlefield, with guns and bombs, wars are taking place. The writing of these words have started a war within me. Take my hand, flip the pages of this collection and follow me down the path of war, poems and stories. Are you ready to be eclipsed?

  • ISBN: 9781370765362
  • Author: Elancharan Gunasekaran
  • Published: 2016-09-06 03:50:15
  • Words: 6896
Eclipse- A War of Words Eclipse- A War of Words