The smell of blood and fish surrounded around the village. Most of the children were mundane and going to school without a pinch of joy. Yes, some might 'hate' going to school and in Meghpur, the whole scenario was different. Arshad roamed around with a bullock cart and was crossing to a faraway hill, covered with rainforest trees and wood. But an abandoned, closed wood-made big ranch was covered vines. There were screeching and cackling noises that were heard from a far that irritated Arshi and Wahid.

"What...is this?" asked Arshi curiously.

"Rumors said that there were witches and vampires that were trapped inside this ranch. Some say that, there used to be horses owned by Khalil's father. However, as far as I know, there's more than what we see on Meghpur. Anyway, let's go to the mill" said Arshad.

Wahid was a bit pissed. He didn't say a word. He was sleeping in the comfortable hay, smelling Arshi's perfume. He realized that he was loyal to both women in his life-Arsh and his wife. No matter how good had been taken away from you, the best one's coming for you, that's what Wahid actually thought. His dreams of five naked cannibal men had continuously tormented Wahid. But his 'practicality' prevented him.

He woke up after a shake from the cart that stopped its destination. The trio got out from it and looked at a two storied building full of wood, where on the other hand, it had trees that were too forbidden to cut off for a mill work.

They entered the owner's cabin. The owner was not older than Arshad, plus with a friendly aura. He was flipping through the account files. His salt and pepper hair on the side were a bit sweaty and dusty. However, he gently slapped, hence that the dust would fade away. Until, he turned and looked at Arshad, Arshi and Wahid. Looking at Arshad, he jumped with his over joyous nature.

"OH DARLING!" jumped out the mill owner with excitement.

"OH BROTHER, RONJON!" said Arshad with joy.

"WE LOVED EACH OTHER! ARE WE BROS? YEAH! LET'S SING TOGETHER!" said both Arshad and Ronjon, the mill owner, dancing in a beat of Michael Jackson's 'Beat It'. Wahid was a bit embarrassed and Arshi, looking at his expression, she giggled with nostalgia.

"Hmm...you seemed to forget about Samar, is it?" said Arshi with a smile.

Wahid, looking at their cacophonic dance moves, he replied "not this level of excitement".

"You lost a lot of joy, like your weight" said Arshi.

"Never mind" he said.

After few moments of excitement, they were offered for tea and coffee. While Arshad introduced the two with a lot of enthusiasm. But when he introduced to Wahid, Ronjon was shocked. He felt that the face was quite familiar because he was always in the newsroom at the forefront. Be it on television, radio, billboards or newspapers, he was relevant. Until four years, everything had changed quickly. He exclaimed "Wahid! THE JOURNALIST WAHID! Aren't you the one who led to students to throw the fascism out of the window?"

"It was...four years ago", said Wahid.

"But you're still THE JOURNALIST, I used to talk about" said Ronjon.

Anyway, after a few sips of tea, an old man was walking inside the gates of the factory with a small sack. Desperate he was. Hence, Ronjon looked at the frail man from afar. He called "hey Uncle! Come here".

The feeble person smiled back. He staggered slowly with the slightly heavy one. Then Arshad's conscience led to help him by carrying his shoulders. He reserved the seat to the senior citizen by himself who stood behind Ronjon's back. The Uncle looked at Wahid with a bit of a shock but controlled his excitement after Ronjon gave him a dead stare. The old man gulped on the neck.

"Have you brought the amount for the salary?" asked Ronjon.

"Aah...yes, sir!" said The Uncle.

The Uncle gave him a sack. His name was Wilson from the Christian community who always was gas-lighted by Ronjon, only for the misuse of power. Despite leading him to poverty as his family had abandoned him, his greed and helplessness never stopped him to take a certain amount back from Ronjon whose bribing tactics were quite predictable- especially the bribing, as most of the workers only come on Fridays. It's quite a loss for Meghpur's economy. It was definitely unnoticed by Khalil, as he was only busy with the rest of the village, especially the Muslim, Buddhist and Hindu communities. Unfortunately, some of the people in the valley never was relied by humanity.

Anyway, Wahid was disgusted to watch the corruption that's happening right now.

"Have you had your meal, Uncle Wilson?" asked Ronjon.

"Yes, sir. But when are you giving me the amount?" asked Wilson, the old man.

Ronjon stood up and looked at the desk. Stumbling through it, he opened up the wardrobe and took out an envelope, full of money but lesser than the amount that was given by Wilson. Arshi controlled her fury, whereas Arshad was gulping back with humiliation. Wahid was still loathing about the whole scene. Wilson's greed just nearly lost his sanity. He happily walked out.

Ronjon explained "my wife is a bit sick, that's why I got the amount. Uncle Wilson is the oldest of the bunch to make the mill work done".

"How does he save those?" asked Wahid.

"The salary and his personal savings. Anyway, as you're my guests and investigating the horrors of the valley, I would like to invite you to my home" said Ronjon.

Arshad was overjoyed, whereas Wahid and Arshi were skeptical.

Ronjon might show himself as a deeply rich personified man, but we might know his reality before evening. By now, Wahid walked out of the mill to watch the nature. Until, he watched a pond that was transforming from an ocean to dark blood cells. It looked like a something that resembled from the time of both Solomon and Moses. He realized that it was more than a chemistry but turned something unimaginable. Then, the smell of blood led him to almost vomit. He rushed through the toilet, despite it had no door, only a broken basin that was quite hard for him to co-operate. Then Arshad took out the Panadol-I mean headache-tablets and gave him to drink it. Arshi just carried him to the local cart.

Ronjon understood that something was wrong. He walked out to the same lake but, it turned to its former self-swampy green. After he came back, he said "I understand the problem with brother Wahid to adjust the environment. I guess, we'll see you at dinner time and watch out for the ghosts after six o'clock. Do come before that."

Finally, Arshad took Arshi and Wahid to Ama Didi's house. She was still sitting at the rocking chair, looking at the window-in the dark room.

Wahid's eyes twinkled towards the old lady. By the time, Arshad quickly grabbed his arm and took him to the guest room and Arshi was sitting on the bed. She was smitten by Wahid's presence and biting her luscious lips but he was thinking about the blood in the pond, plus Ama Didi gazing at the window-full of thoughts.

"Well, how's your experience in the village?" asked Arshi.

"It's weird! Only Khalil and Arshad are comfortable" said Wahid.

"Weird? I love it here!" said Arshi.

"Oh God! You're seducing me! Don't you know, I...I am loyal to my wife?" said Wahid with a lot of excitement.

"It's fine, you're just a kitty cat! Just relax" said Arshi in a seducing voice.

"Oh dear Lord! What should I do with this woman!" whispered Wahid.

He...was...mortified.

Meanwhile, the cheerful Arshad was combing his hair and cooked for lunch. First, he feed Ama Didi on her own room. After Arshi had taken a small nap, Wahid walked out of the room. Observing the whole situation, he was looking at the two separate clay made houses with fences made of wood. He looked at the second hut, where Arshad fed the old lady lovingly. After swallowing, she looked at the back and looked at the ying-yang at his neck, unfolded from the shirt.

"What's that? How did you get this? The one in your neck..." asked Ama Didi.

"I..." Wahid was about to answer it but interrupted by Arshad.

"He's the journalist, remember?" said Arshad in a cheerful way.

"Oh...my son, come here! Sorry I was a bit out of mind" said Ama Didi, breaking out from her usual self.

Wahid walked near her with a smile.

"You seem...familiar, especially with your eyes and your appearance" said Ama Didi.

"That means, Khalil's not the only one" said Wahid.

"Hmm...I've seen a spark in your eyes and some handsome features on your face. It's like somebody I knew for a long time. Anyway, when are you people going to Ronjon's house?" said Ama Didi.

"Maybe, right now" said Wahid.

"Well...Well...Well, you're going to that buzzy fool's house! I think you need to be a bit tactful towards him! He might be a cunning man but something more than a fool" said Ama Didi.

The sun was about to turn into noon. Hence, Arshad, Wahid and Arshi were changing their dress and being ready. Furthermore, they walked out and hoped to the bull cart. Then, on the way to Ronjon's house, a tabby cat stiffly stood in the middle of the way. Sundari, the bull was scared that she stopped like a horse. Arshad petted her and walked out. Unfortunately, cats were not trusted in our country and called it a huge superstition. Arshad yelled "shoo! Get out of here".

The cat still stood, until Wahid hoped out. The cat smiled and licked its tongue, jumped into his shoulder and nibbling its ears. Wahid chuckled and said a baby talk "hey, hey, easy man! Are you looking for a home?"

Then he carried the cat, petting it for a while and gently got him to the ground. Its tail moved, making gratitude to his 'love' and blinked its eyes as the sign of it.

After a long way, they reached through a small house, where Ronjon's wife was cooking pilaf and beef happily and humming an old song.