**The Weeping Demon – Chapter 2
"The Destiny of Something Unknown"**
The sacrifice ground smelled of blood and smoke. Drums pounded like a war march. Chokkan, wrists bound, knees on the dust, was brought forward under the hot sun. His two younger brothers did not attend. They could not bear to watch their own brother's execution.
The elders raised the South Indian billhook – the aruval, its edge glinting. But Arjunan, eyes burning, mocked across the gathering:
> "My brother is still alive… and you, Chokkan, will be the first to die!"
Chokkan, lips cracked but voice steady, answered:
> "I killed him by accident… but if Aranan still lives, then let him face me. I will not die like an animal!"
When the slaughterer swung the aruval, Chokkan's neck muscles tightened like a steel cable. SNAP! — the blade shattered against his skin.
He had been starving for days. In a burst of animal fury he snapped forward, biting into the slaughterer's neck, tearing flesh like a wolf. Blood sprayed on the sand. Chains rattled. With a scream that was more beast than man, Chokkan wrenched his body sideways. The iron collar that locked his throat slid loose.
Another man raised a hammer — CRACK — but Chokkan lifted his chained left arm and let the hammer smash against it. The chain broke. ⛓️💥
Then the right chain. ⛓️💥
Free.
Hair wild like a starving wolf, teeth glinting like a tiger's, Chokkan howled and threw himself into the crowd. Flesh tore. Skulls cracked. Blood painted the dust.
Arjunan tried to run. Too late. Chokkan's hand closed on his arm — SNAP — his left arm broke like a stick.
> "I will die if you torment me," Chokkan roared, "but I will never scream! If I die, I feel no pain. If I escape, I will live! Tell your brother I'm coming for him!"
By dusk, no one in the yard still lived. The survivors lied to the world: "Chokkan is dead." His two brothers never learned the truth.
---
Far away, Palani worked alone. He was digging a new river to bring water to Pudugu plains, trying to end the conflict with the Semmendalar Pudugor tribes. Only a river, he believed, could unite them. Little Thumban tried to rally people against the idol, calling it black magic, but no one listened to the small boy. He wandered off, joining locals who also doubted the god.
Seven weeks passed. Palani had carved only eight percent of the river. The task was impossible. Wild animals stalked him; he hunted them for food. At first he ate boar; then, fearing disease, he switched to deer.
One evening a scream split the air. A tiger was chasing a young woman. She had long black hair, a round face, a blue top and a clean waist. Radika.
Palani seized his wooden spear, then his bow, striking the tiger's head. It lunged again. Predator versus predator. He rolled, dodged, stabbed. Finally the beast collapsed, dead.
Radika looked at him with astonished eyes. She joined his work, helping him mine. Her presence burned in his mind: beauty, strength, a baddie. Yet Palani did not lose himself in lust.
One day she asked to bathe and disappeared. Soon another girl arrived — Boomika, in a yellow top.
> "Did you see a girl wearing blue?" she asked.
Palani lied, "No." She left, angry.
But desire gnawed at him. He went looking. He found Radika, radiant, bathing. When their eyes met, she accepted his gaze. Later she accepted him fully. They shared quiet moments.
He slept.
And woke surrounded by a circle of men. Radika stood in the middle. She removed her wig.
It was Aranan.
> "No… no…!" Palani stammered.
> "Shut up, pervert! (பொம்பள போக்கு கேட்குதா!!) I was to be assassinated by my own brother Arjunan. To survive, I took Boomika's blouse and lived as a woman. Now you see how hard it is to live as one."
Palani's face went blank, like a zombie.
> "I'm sorry, Palani," Aranan said coldly, "but you must die."
He pushed Palani into the river.
---
Water closed over him. Darkness. Sand. A tiny hole. Claustrophobia crushed his chest. He could breathe only through a narrow gap. Tears spilled.
> "I'm sorry… I did it… I'm sorry…"
A lizard crawled into his mouth. In anger and hunger he bit it, ate it alive.
Memories flooded: Bilal, his old teacher, a tall merchant from far lands who had taught him survival. Bilal's voice echoed:
> "Even if you die, die like a king. Tighten. Break it. If you can break it, you'll be free. If not, die fast."
Palani clenched his jaw. He held his breath. He began to dig with bare hands, clawing sand and stone. Water surged into the hole. He swam, digging, digging, lungs on fire.
> "Guru Bilal… I will… you are my teacher of survival…"
Sand collapsed. Water roared. His vision dimmed. He thought he was dying.
Then—light.
He burst upward, but found himself locked in a strange cavern. Around him, shadowed figures stood, chanting, worshipping something unseen.
Palani gasped, still on his knees, water streaming off his body.
> What happened? Where am I?
The cavern echoed with prayers. The unknown destiny had begun.