Chapter 12 Goddess

धनुरनुषङ्ग रणक्षणसङ्ग परिस्फुरदङ्ग नटत्कटके ।

कनकपिशङ्ग पृषत्कनिषङ्ग रसद्भटशृङ्ग हताबटुके ।।

कृतचतुरङ्ग बलक्षितिरङ्ग घटद्बहुरङ्ग रटद्बटुके ।

(Extract from Mahishasur Mardini Stotram,

Sanskrit language)

(Oh Goddess who decks herself with ornaments,On her throbbing limbs in the field of battle,When she gets her bow ready to fight, Oh Goddess , who killed her enemies,

In the field of battle with a shining sword,

And the shaking of her golden brown spots,

Oh Goddess , who made the battle ground of the four fold army, In to a stage of drama with screaming little soldiers)

[Warning : This chapter contain depiction of sexual assaults that may be upsetting for readers. Reader discription is advised]

A T H A L I A (Third person)

The conference hall went silent when they heard her heels kiking in, dressed in black, waiting for someone's funeral. Athalia was at the edge of her anger when she heard about her greatest enemy sailing a ship full of lust. Innocent girls.

She knew he would come back someday; she shouldn't have left him alive. Her gaze fixed on the radar, the captured ship was heading towards East Africa, Somalia, with dozens of kidnapped girls from all across the world. "It's dangerous," said Lewis. Her face creeped into a wicked smile, "For them."

"Let's stop by Bhagdad! It's Time to meet an old friend." Athalia ordered the captain. It's the time of fear the phsych inside her already have awaked. It's time for them to run, run for their life. She will drag each of them out of theirs caves and throw them to their graves, and rip out their flesh same as they rape the small girl. They are going to meet their Karma soon....

✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽

"What's the problem, yeah? Why are you acting like the house is on fire?" Athalia said to Vivene, who was walking in frustration. Vivene pulled Athalia into a corner for a conversation. "You can't be serious; we can't do it without military help. It's like going to the mouth of death by yourself," complained a scared Vivene.

"Who says we are doing this without help? It's just that we are doing this illegally this time with an illegal friend," replied Athalia. She knows G.U.A.R.D policies are against executions, and if she wants to end this, he has to die; she has to kill him. "And who is the illegal friend, my dear?" asked Vivene.

"Me and my crew!" Maya, shedding her black hijab, removed the sand from her shoulders. The mafia princess, Maya, is known as the huntress of lechers-a perfect match for Athalia's mission. She is thirsty for blood. "It's time to feed the demons inside us."

"We have to kill this time without orders," she explained to a furious Vivene. "And Mr. Hanniel doesn't have any problems with this?" asked Vivene again.

"Why would I?" Lewis entered, lighting up his cigarette. "Do what you think is best; end this. Save those people, and I'll cover up everything like nothing had happened." This was a green light. "Let's slay the beasts; it's the woman in shining armor saving the princesses this time."

The metal around her knuckles, her neck, her whole body shined. Dressed in a Tungsten carbide suit perfectly designed for her. The helmet covered her face, protecting her secrets. Enough of shedding tears; now it's time to shed blood.

She is an assassin after all. "Let's feed you tonight, Alina," Athalia said to the monster living inside. Sometimes we all need to befriend our monsters to survive. Let the fear go, look into the mirror, straight into their eyes, and whisper, "We are one."

The deck opened at great height, dark night with strong wind, a gale. Athalia looked down to the highjacked ship, not a gale she is a fucking hurricane in this Indian Ocean.

She let out a breath and looked at Maya,

"Maximum 30 minutes Athalia, you have to do work in half an hour." Vivene reported.

Athalia gave a nod, she decided to go first and Maya after her. She took a deep sigh "Should I go now?", Lewis approved.

Then she jump between clouds six miles away from sea level, "Does she had a parachute?" Maya asked looking down at the secluded ocean.

"She is a goddess with a blade. Why would she need any parachute when she's got wings?" replied Lewis.

She closed her eyes, and the helmet covered her face. From her back, two metallic wings spread, the moon casting a glow and causing them to reflect silver like the goddess of the moon, Selene. Before the guards could notice her arrival, she made holes in their hearts with bullets-her bullets.

Those wings disappeared when her feet touched the ship's floor. Athalia checked the deck; there was no one left except dead bodies. With every step a precaution, she made her way down to the cabin. No one was there. It can't be that easy, can it?

Nothing on the ship matched the level of terrorism; it was more high-tech than ever.

The thought run in Athalia's head, How can they do that? "They've a technologist in their capture for years. It must've been her brain to create all this," Maya whispered behind her. They decided to go different ways to find where they have kept women and girls.

A fist was thrown at Athalia's direction, but she stopped it with her one hand before it could land on her face. Metal nails emerged like the paw of a panther. The man in front of her didn't hesitate to throw one more punch; she held that too. It was time for a hand-to-hand combat.

The metal nails on her fingers grew as she kicked him in the stomach. He tried to pull out his gun, but she shot him first. His body collided with the floor, blood spreading everywhere. The thud noise was enough to wake up the beasts. More men came holding knives, guns, and weapons, but what did she hold?

She holds Power.

Her left metal wing cut through the bodies of three men beside her, a symphony of destruction echoing in the iron-clad chamber. "I've found the girls, right in the west basement," Maya's voice crackled through the communication device.

Breathing heavily, Athalia seized the opportunity to land a decisive blow, her movements a dance of lethal precision that ended the confrontation with a powerful knockout. As the dust settled, she stood victorious amidst the fallen, a mix of relief and adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"Take 'em to the airship as soon as possible," she commanded, her voice cutting through the aftermath. The dim light revealed the lifeless bodies scattered on the cold, unforgiving floor.

"What about you?" inquired Maya, her eyes reflecting the urgency of the moment.

"I've got some assignments pending to complete," replied Athalia, wiping the blood of her adversaries from her lips with a determined smirk. The mission wasn't over; it was just the beginning of a relentless pursuit for justice.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Broken wires sprawled across the floor, oil dripping from a damaged tank-the operating room was a chaotic mess, with scattered papers covering the table. As Athalia surveyed the scene, a sense of urgency gripped her. Perhaps he had managed to escape.

The blueprints of advanced weapons and security machines confirmed her suspicions. "A high-tech physicist is in their capture," she muttered, realizing the magnitude of the situation. Their nefarious plans hinted at something enormous, and time was of the essence.

A flicker of caution crossed her eyes, a subtle tightening of the jaw as she assessed her adversary. Her body tensed; she assumed a low stance, knees slightly bent, weight evenly distributed on both feet, ready to react at a moment's notice. Her fists were clenched, elbows tucked in, and eyes locked onto the door.

There was no one. Suddenly, the temperature started to drop, and her bending strength dimmed. A bullet struck her back, causing her tungsten wings to crack. Not an ordinary bullet could do such a thing. The Monster was in front of her, the one she had been searching for. A scar ran through his whole face, guns attached to his inked body.

She was ready to get rid of him.

"Ma garanaysaan, maxaan ku samayn karaa?" he spoke in his mother tongue. (You don't know what I can do to you?) Athalia understood and replied with a dreadful smile, "You have no idea about the havoc I am capable of." Sarcasm dripped in her every word.

He threw his arms, challenging her to combat, and she insisted. Seventeen minutes left before the aircraft would leave.

Sixteen!

Adrenaline surged through her veins as she dodged a swift punch, her instincts taking over.

Fifteen!

She retaliated with a powerful roundhouse kick, aiming for her opponent's midsection.

Fourteen!

Sweat dripped down her forehead, but determination burned in her eyes as she blocked an incoming attack.

Thirteen!

The sound of fists colliding echoed in the air as she executed a series of rapid punches, keeping her adversary on the defensive.

Twelve!

A well-timed sweep of her leg sent her rival crashing to the ground, providing a momentary advantage.

She climbed on him and punched hard, grabbing his collar. Her half helmet fell off, metal lingered on her lips. She had run miles and miles, stopping herself from enjoying watching someone suffer, begging in front of her for their lives. But today she allowed herself to have fun.

She pulled out a knife, ten minutes left; she could still have some fun with this pathetic creature. "What are you?" he asked when she ran down the knife through his jaw. The man in front of her was weak and dying. She laughed, hearing his feeble words.

Athalia clutched his jaw; her hair fell on his face. She was exactly the same person she was scared of. It wasn't Athalia talking to him; it was Alina. "I am your death!" Her voice echoed as she dug the sharp knife into his left eye. One by one, she hurt his whole body but left his tongue for pleasure, her ears enjoying his screams.

Draped in the ethereal mantle of the goddess of death and doomsday, Kali, Athalia embodied the profound wisdom and the fierce prowess of Athena, the formidable goddess of war. Descending to the mortal realm as Maa Durga, she stood poised on the precipice of divine retribution, ready to unleash her wrath upon those who callously inflicted great pain upon the world. The blood-red creeper, a manifestation of vengeance, emanated from the seeds of blood, cascading onto the battlefield like an ominous prophecy fulfilled.

Cloaked in gleaming armor that shimmered with an otherworldly radiance, Athalia transformed into a formidable force, systematically annihilating enemies on the battlefield. Each swing of her blade echoed the resolute determination of a warrior on a sacred mission. Her triumphant conquest invoked the spirit of Nike, the goddess of triumph, while the power emanating from her every stride resonated with the protective aura of Hera, the guardian of women and children.

"Kill me," he begged, desperation echoing in his voice. With a merciless thrust, Athalia stabbed him once more, the blade piercing through the veil of his existence. The final breath he took before succumbing to the inevitable darkness made him acknowledge the divine force at play - a profound conviction that God is a woman orchestrating a thrilling symphony of justice and retribution that reverberated through the cosmic realms. The battlefield, now drenched in the aftermath of her divine intervention, bore witness to the dance of a goddess.

Leaving his cold, lifeless body, she rose and licked the blood from her lips. Five minutes remained; she had to hurry. Gathering the files on the table, she decided to leave her wings behind. Before retrieving her knife from his chest, Athalia took a deep breath-not of regrets, but of acknowledgment. She had done what needed to be done.

No longer confined by the shackles of fear and sorrow, as long as she protected the world, her chains were broken. She would allow Alina to haunt her, a reminder of the battles fought, the shadows traversed, and her rebirth from the fire-a modern-day Draupadi. The echoes of her deeds would resonate through time, etching her name into the annals of history.

Water rose to her feet as the ship sank in the ocean. Run! She had to keep running to survive, even if there were a hundred miles left before she could see the light. 'It's too late; maybe I should let myself drown.' Her thoughts betrayed her, but she knew there were still chances she might stay alive.

"Help! Let me out. I'm about to drown," a lady called out from the basement. A fool would go back down, but a hero... She should save herself, yet she took a deep breath, swimming deep into the water.

She felt the strong pull dragging her down. Panic set in as she gasped for air, but it seemed impossible to reach the surface. The world around her blurred, and every instinct screamed for a breath that she couldn't take. It felt like a battle against an unseen force, fighting to break free from the suffocating water. Helplessness grew, and darkness surrounded her, making escape seem almost impossible in the vast ocean.

Maybe she should let herself drown; it's too late to save her now.