Idaq's Due

Idaq's due

         The mood was sombre. That pretty much described the atmosphere in which Idaq was drowning. Everyone around him behaved in a constrained way, and their eyes looked as if they were connected to the ocean: tears fell down freely whenever they saw a relative for the first time after the death. The death of Idaq's younger brother.

         Idaq wondered at times why he was even at the accursed funeral, thinking his time would be better spent in his office where he would probably earn a few hundred thousand dollars before the end of the day, a million if he put his heart into it Yes, he didn't really want to be here. There was no need to.

         It wasn't that Idaq didn't love his brother. He did. It was just that he didn't believe in brooding himself over things he couldn't control, even if it was the death of his brother. And there was something else...

         The crowd near the corpse shifted to reveal a beautifully carved coffin. It was golden in colour, even had some in certain places. The top was covered with a glass, through which the final respects could be paid.

         Idaq looked impatiently around, rubbing his throbbing head with his knuckles. It was then he saw the sad, grief-wrecked face of his mother looking at him expectantly. It seemed as if she was waiting for him to do something, and by the looks of it, it must've been something important. It took a while before Idaq finally realised what it was that he was supposed to do: he hadn't paid his final respects yet.

         He turned away from his mother, away from the coffin in which the deceased lay, looking around instead at the small group of neighbours standing outside the funeral hall trying desperately to look into the coffin, no doubt hoping to get some kind of lucky number or something for the upcoming 4-D lottery draw.

         From the corner of his eyes, he saw the form of his mother get off her seat. She started approaching Idaq.

         Idaq fought the impulse to walk away. Maybe if he walked over to a group of rich men near him, perhaps he would blend in perfectly with them. Yes, that would be perfect.

         But his legs had a mind of their own. They just simply refused to move, and Idaq saw, with immense trepidation, his mother draw upon him.

         “You haven't paid your final respects to your brother.”

         “I will, mother” Idaq replied, not looking at her. “Soon,” he added hastily, hoping he sounded convincing.

         But it was a lie. He had absolutely no intention of doing such a thing.

         His mother walked away.

         A few minutes passed, and Idaq felt himself relax. But when he looked around, he saw his mother's eyes still trained on him. She might have moved away, but her attention was still fixed firmly on Idaq.

         He did not want to go anywhere near his brother's corpse. In fact, he wanted to stay as far away from the coffin as was possible without actually violating the funeral wake. And he had a good reason for it.

         Some time before his death, Idaq's brother complained of severe headaches and blurry visions. He also complained of seeing things that weren't there. But his most outrageous claims were about seeing a horned entity following him around everywhere he went, be it the toilet, the bed, or work. Everybody pitied him, thinking he was perhaps mad, finally hanging himself when the pain became too unbearable.

         But Idaq knew otherwise. He knew perfectly well what his brother had gone through. After all, he was going through the same thing himself.

         His mother's eyes were still glued on him. She wasn't leaving him alone without him paying his final dues to his brother. Her motherly love was too blind to see the reason behind Idaq's reluctance.

         A few more minutes passed before Idaq finally gave in to his mother's will. He got off the chair and walked miserably towards the coffin, dreading what he would see when he peered into his brother's face.

         His fears were confirmed. But it wasn't his brother in the coffin. It was Idaq himself! He felt his throat constrict, and found that he couldn't breath.

         Then, the dead eyes flew open.

         A scream finally escaped him before he knew it, and soon he was surrounded by his relatives.

         “What happened?” everyone was asking.

         Idaq gulped some air before looking at the coffin, his sweat running slowly down his temple.

         His face had disappeared. It was now replaced by his brother's. His blue-tinged face had a horrible feel to it, and he looked as if he had suffered immense pain before dying. In fact, he still looked as he was suffering from some unseen horror. His suffering eyes were his own, though, and they were closed.

         Idaq breathed calmly. It had only been his imagination.

         Idaq closed his eyes and prayed for his brother's soul. But he knew it was of no use. Just then, he thought he heard a barely audible but sinister laugh, so near and soft that it sounded right behind him. His due had come...yours will too...

         His eyes flung open, stinging and watering in the bright sunlight. But he ignored it and looked behind. There was nobody there.

         He turned back to his brother's coffin, but felt the headache rise like a rouge wave once again. It was more painful than he ever remembered it to be. His vision also became slightly blurred.

         There was no excuse now. He had done what was expected of him, and he felt there was no need for him to stay any longer. He exited the funeral hall. Nobody stopped him, not even his mother.

         But as he exited, he felt, and saw through the corners of his eyes, someone follow him. Someone horned.