The Angkara Murka
The Book of Pon – the Twenty-Five Kusuma Dewi
There is a logical reason why thugs, criminals, and hit men are stereotypical, namely wearing black or dark clothes, sunglasses that are also black, long hair and many are also minced and thick mustache. The three mercenaries Mr. Teacher Johan were also in such a style. On their night mission, the three had simultaneously directly worn sunglasses.
This is actually the reason is so that everyone who witnesses and sees what they do will eventually report stereotypical traits. In this case, the three hired men of Mr. Johan will be difficult to recognize in detail because it obscures the depiction by the witnesses.
The commotion in the apartment room of Anggalarang certainly seems to provoke some other residents to come out of their rooms to see what is going on.
One thug who deliberately played his six-bullet revolver, stood at the door, looking threateningly at some curious occupants. They left the crime scene, even including their own rooms, flocking away with fear and panic.
The police will come soon because they get reports from the apartment dwellers, thought the thug. But he's flinching. Two colleagues who held and locked the Anggalarang dragged the body of the man they had confirmed was being killed and threw it to the side of the bed.
Blood flooded the floor, sliding out from the broken puncture wound on the side of the wide gaping Anggalarang hull. The young man's gaze was twitched and blurred, struck by the splash of pain that stung each of his nerves. He tried to get to bed but failed. Anggalarang can only be half face down helplessly, facing his own death, seeing Kusuma Dewi grabbed, pulled and dragged by the man he did not know.
Shouts of protest and anger were not able to get out of the esophagus Anggalarang.
"You don't deserve to die in bed, Kusuma Dewi. My wife bled to death on our doorstep. His face was immersed in his own blood that came out from the wound on his broken head. Ah, you already know the details, don't you?" said Mr. Johan Teacher. He dragged Kusuma Dewi by grabbing her reddish hair, exactly as seen by Anggalarang.
Kusuma Dewi was unable to wriggle. He just screams in pain while holding the hand of Mr. Teacher Johan and as much as possible follow the direction of the pull so that the pain in his scalp does not get worse. He did not even have time to call the name of the lover, let alone see the situation.
Pak Guru Johan threw the makeup body of Kusuma Dewi face down near the door of the apartment room Anggalarang.
"Bang, the residents already know about this incident. Soon the police or more people will come," said the thug who stood at the door guarding with a revolver to Mr. Johan.
This report is a statement asking Mr. Johan to finish his case immediately.
"Calm down, it's not gonna take long. If this bitch were a normal girl, I would've given it to you to enjoy. But, believe me, he deserves to be killed immediately. This wily demoness I will finish soon," said Mr. Teacher Johan trembling with grudge.
The thug did not understand what the man who hired them meant, and again, he did not care. So he shook his head and saw what the man was going to do with an ice-cold look.
Pak Guru Johan again grabbed the reddish hair of Kusuma Dewi then pulled it so that it made him look up to his face. "Do you see her, your own cousin, Kusuma Dewi?"
The ghost of Ratih the Belibis walks squatting in front of the face of the approaching Kusuma Dewi. Dry earth, dust, gravel and sand fell from his body. His eyes were blank, but centered on Kusuma Dewi.
Kusuma Dewi was horrified. Now he can see it clearly.
The other two waist-rigged thugs enjoyed the sight of Anggalarang dying as it began to bleed out. One of the interesting things that they often wait for in their work is one of them, seeing the person who was the victim was taken away by his life. This was the supreme art of their cruel profession.
The Angalarang is really close to death. His consciousness began to disappear. Various dreams and visions alternated rapidly in his brain, forming a series of unclear storylines. The past, present and indefinable time link to each other and overwrite.
Anggalarang is even now in a forest, standing like a fool.
There was the voice of Kusuma Dewi looming over there. He's in pain. He is threatened with his life. No, I don't want this to happen. So when he saw the white shadow on the sidelines of the slender but tall and densely leafy trees, he immediately chased after it.
"Maung ... Maung ... Just stop! I need you," exclaimed Anggalarang as he continued to chase after the white tiger figure seen from his speed seemed too impossible to achieve. However, Anggalarang continued to run, continuing to chase.
Before long, now his body ran with the Maung beside him, just as fast and agile.
Anggalarang knew that Maung the white tiger could not talk. The structure of the tiger's mouth and jaw does not allow it to be able to pronounce words commonly spoken by humans. However, Maung spoke. He utters words, phrases and sentences through air, mind and energy.
"It turns out you still need me, Anggalarang," said Maung, still running side by side with Anggalarang.
"Young, Maung ... I finally saw you again. Where you been all this time, I need you. Please help me, Maung."
Maung growled, representing an oddity, "I know you don't need me much lately. Women are the cause, right? He became the center of your world. You have forgotten your origin and roots, how your personality was formed, how and who you really are, Anggalarang. Ah, I don't blame you. Man can think only of his own interests."
"I know I've ignored you, and instead made you disappear, Maung. That was my biggest mistake. I feel that when my desires and wants are fulfilled, then nothing else can bother me. But this time I can't keep quiet. I'm dying, Maung."
One of the hoodlums who was behind his waist near the half-covered body of Anggalarang who was dying of blood loss suddenly felt seeing something, or hearing something. There was a snarl of animals coming out of the mouth of the victim of his work.
"You're sure, you know? Because when I get out, I'll be in control more. I'll be back as your protector, as I should. You must not question all my actions outside your body, nor doubt me" Maung said.
Anggalarang heard the reverberation of the poignant voice of Kusuma Dewi came like a fog enveloping it. "Young, do. Do it," Anggalarang's response was firm and steady.
Before long Anggalarang saw himself running so fast, faster than ever, and far more agile than he ever was. The difference is, now he runs not using both legs, but four.