​ "Take Cover"

​He wasn't sure whether or not his instinct had been plagued by apt assumptions. He forgot about the fact that the hall they were in was being haunted. Or hunted. He wasn't really sure whether or not those who were on them were ghosts or some creatures from any other world. Those didn't even matter at that moment. All that mattered was his contention. If it were possible he would look for a wool which was whiter and quite transparent than a snow and more like the glass-like sea he had seen earlier. He needed to be sure if there were any other persons there with him. But hell wrong, he was the only one. Himself and the annoying Leviathan. He didn't know what he would do with it until the banging. He had been bracing his heart until that moment. And he was already caught up in two spells. He knew that one would rip him off and the other would make merry or manage the leftover or crumps, confetti or smithereens donated by its counterpart. But could the Leviathan had spoken? That was in no way possible. No way in the wide world was that possible. He could say that never ever. But he couldn't really vouch for his thoughts. He was living in a world of fantasy. That was some dimwitted realization of course.

The banging had stopped before the voice had come. He thought the Intruders, those who wanted to break into the hall had gone. Probably they couldn't break the door and gain their access in. He wasn't sure and was simply making guesses. Amidst that thought had he heard that voice. He thought Pious Poseidon was back with the twenty-one men and was speaking from outside. He was damn sure that that was exactly what was happening. Then the banging came again. Ferociously that time. He needed no soothsayer to tell him that the doors would break. Not only would the sixteen doors break but would be made into smithereens. They would be smothered by those heartless blows. His fear knew new route. He dumped the thought of whoever was the owner of the voice. That didn't matter at that time. He would get to know when pious Poseidon arrived. That was if he would survive the malady which had been supplanted by treacherous time. He girded his heart. Like a typical person would. He didn't know what else to confide in. That was the best option he could had ever resolved for of course.

Then boom! The doors came falling off. And then he knew that the end had come. He knew that the apex of his fantasy had arrived. He had no idea what was going to succeed the sassy second which would follow the blows. There was a halt. A silence. He didn't know where those came from. The silence was unusual. He knew that something was going to happen. He had written quite the number of times about silence and the things it projected. He knew what silence would birth. He knew quite well that it would be something grievous. He got prepared for it. He got ready for it. He braced his heart. But he hoped that the gullible grits he had swept into a whole would be enough to keep his mind steady when the scene or hideous trial would be unleashed. He didn't know what to do. He waited. He looked at the Leviathan which was at its full length. It was up, like a mighty dinosaur. He hadn't taken note of how tall the building was until the Leviathan had stood that tall. Everything in his fantasy of course awed him. He had no idea what the Leviathan was doing. Its two legs were like twelve of his each. He lost a track of description of such creature. Even if he had his chance to return to earth, he probably wouldn't know what to write about it. The Leviathan had its eyes closed. He had no idea what that meant. Or was that some new surprise he was not going to succumb to? Does serpents pray in the world of fantasy also? He didn't know what to believe or disbelieve anymore. Then boom!

Like in the flicker of bewitched time, what looked like bird-fishes filled the hall, entering through all the doors of the hall. He had no idea what name to call them. He hadn't seen one before. He wasn't interested in allotting a name to them. He wasn't interested in any morphological allotment. The allotment he was interested in was staying alive. Probably staying alive in his fantasy was what he meant to say. He couldn't really be sure. Then hundreds of them made for him, he didn't know what to do. Then he felt a wave of whooshing air swept past his face. Damn! Twas the tainted tail of the Leviathan. It kicked all the hundred away at a sway and they were all destroyed. He had no idea how enormous the creature was until that moment. Probably the moment he would discover the real form of the Leviathan was not even close. He seemed to discover new things about it every now and then. Well, depending on the circumstance which sheltered it. He couldn't really be sure. Then the Leviathan started puking felon flames as they roast the bird-fishes. Damn! He was hungry.

As the flames roasted, he would pick some and devour. He didn't know that he could go hungry in the world of fantasy. He didn't know that being in fantasy was just an extension of being in real life. Creatures in fantasy could just buy time and have extra lives which are mirage in reality. He kept enjoying the meals as he hero Leviathan kicked and roasted his meals. He was sure that the Leviathan was having fun. Well he couldn't guarantee that. The eyes of the creature wouldn't give it away so easily. Then at once, more than thousands of the bird-fishes made for him again, but the Leviathan's tail could not do justice to all. Some of the fishes made for him and pored his skins. They were little creatures with sharp and pointed incisors. The best they could do to one is make several holes in the bodies of their pray. And the poet became their guest of the day. He wasn't sure if he would ever live again to see the return of the pious Poseidon. Ah! The fishes ate into the socket of his eyes, and sucked his retinas out. He was sure that he had no lips any longer. And his erection? Long story. He was like a statue with peg-like holes all over its design! The Leviathan came rushing to him and devoured the preying fishes, but it was too late. He succumbed to gloom. Did he? Only a person with eyes succumb to gloom!