The old jaded clothes hung carelessly on the man's droopy shoulders. He had returned to the reservoir of memories after a very long time. The dilapidated house looked on to him with indifference, and so did the street dogs, relaxed forming a circle with their chins resting against the dusty, rugged surface of the old town road. Some yawned, wagging their tails with scattered hopes yet not very optimistic. Their carcass like bodies had withered away like old times.
He looked abount for a piece of bread that had kept him dire company for the past eight hours and threw it aiming for the middle ground between the animals, and then saw it disappear within the next few seconds as the animals transformed themselves into savage beasts ready to chew off one another. His attention then diverted to the citadel in the distance and then the nearby motel, which seemed the only hope for looking for any human form.
"You're a visitor, eh.?" The caretaker of the motel said, grinning that crooked smile, withered, loose teeth with tobacco deposits, "Go back, sir! The town doesn't deserve a visitor. It was the work of the animalstic nomad. They say he never existed. But I know he did.
The visitor did not speak. He was waiting for the caretaker to finish. He kept rambling on though, passing on a beedi and pan as he continued with his ramble.
"He cane out when they slept. They caught him in the bizarre acts. He'd sacrifice a soul every night. And had a cult somewhere behind those mountains. No one ever dared finding out. No one returns."
"What happened to the people here?" The visitor asked, watching the caretaker indifferently.
"You dont say!" The caretaker hissed, least perturbed by the question, "i the only one remains, lonely but powerful. jaded but resolute. I remained the only one he didn't kill. cos im the only one who couldnt touch."
The visitor smoked the beedi, listening intently. When the caretaker finished, he stayed the night and planned for a return. A nut job, he thought, finishing the drink and lighting the fire. He'd take a leave next morning, away from the city and its people for good.
After all, the last one had been taken care of that evebing too.
