Misc. Erotica Swati's Downfall (Original Story)

[S Darko]

Sammy and the other bodyguard, a man named Hari, wrestle Arvind’s body into the trunk of the SUV and cover it with a blanket. 

Hari works smoothly, precisely, like a man who has done this many times before. 

Sammy is relatively new to this, but not a stranger to violence. 


He wonders about this man. 

Would he too become like Hari in time? Is this what he really wants? 

He knows he was destined for a life of crime, and he doesn’t have much education, so there are no good jobs for him. 

The only way he can earn good money is in his present line of work. 

He feels a sudden panic, as though his life has boxed him in. 

Would he too take lives, casually stuff bodies into the backs of SUVs in time? 

Hari scans the street. Sammy copies him. 

No one is visible. 

The tea seller and his customers have vanished. 

No one wants trouble, especially the kind that attracts the cops. 

Also, because of the Chinese virus, people are hesitant to go out. Many people wear masks, and that’s a good thing for criminals. 

Sammy reaches in casually, pulls Arvind’s gun from his hand, and reaches into his jacket for the suppressor. 

An auto rickshaw putters down the street. 

It is the old man from the chawl, and Sammy has seen his around on his reconnaissance missions, but doesn’t know his name. 

They wait for the auto to pass all the way to the end of the street.

A few huts down the lane someone is lighting a chula, and sparks and smoke fly out and then settle as the fire gets going in the clay stove. 

As the SUV hatch closes, Hari’s phone rings. 

“Ji Bhai?”

The speaker is loud enough that he can hear Nakul Bhai say, “Tommy, bring Tommy.”