Kurgansk's Fury

♪♪ Low Ominous Music Continues….♪♪

Azra's eyes fixated, lingering as a figure stepped out of the car a wave of anxiety and confusion washing over him. The silence was deafening until the stranger finally broke it.

"Azra. Long time no see," the man said, walking toward him. Azra stood frozen, mouth agape.

"I thought you died. I heard all kinds of rumors about the accident."

"Pie, you…"

"Yes. Don't worry I'm not your enemy. I just wanted to see how sharp you still are," Pie said, his eyebrows arching with intensity.

"How long have you been holding onto this?"

A heavy silence fell again, the storm crackling above them, rain softly falling around.

"I know you're probably shocked to find out I'm a demon slayer like you. I've just kept it hidden all these years, since we were kids."

Azra turned to him. "I need time to take all this in, Pie."

"Let's go to North Syria. We'll get your brother out of that demon's realm."

"Alright."

They walked inside and eventually drifted off to sleep.

 Hours Later,

"Pie… you still haven't told me. How did you become a demon?" Azra asked, noticing Pie's shift in demeanor.

"I told you it's a long story. You'll need time to understand it."

"Let's get ready."

The two brushed their teeth, showered, and changed. Azra grabbed his favorite cowboy hat, lit a cigarette, and took a long drag.

"We're going to need fuel. That engine drinks it like water."

Pie frowned, tension etched on his face like crumpled paper.

"You stay here. I'll head into town to grab some."

Pie set off down the highway. Azra hadn't waited more than an hour before two NSP officers North Syria Police approached, signaling him to step out of the car.

"Azra, is that you?" the first officer asked, glaring intensely.

"Yeah, that's me," Azra said, stepping out. A corporal instantly cuffed him.

"What's going on?"

"We got a report. You've been driving this Toyota Camry without a license," the sergeant said.

Azra sighed. "I left it with the bartender. I completely forgot."

"Yeah? Well, you know the law. Either you come with us or hand over your car."

Azra hissed in frustration. The officers escorted him to the station.

The DPO, a cold, stern man with a long mustache and piercing eyes, greeted him.

"Sit," he said, studying Azra, clearly expecting resistance. But Azra gave him none.

"Sorry, sir. Like I said I left it at a bar…"

"That's no excuse, Mr. Azra," the DPO cut him off. "This isn't America. Damascus already makes it hell to process anything, especially from the south. Don't make this worse."

"So what happens now?" Azra asked, his patience wearing thin.

"You do know going out into the wild at night is pretty much asking to die, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The DPO lit a cigarette, exhaling smoke carelessly.

"I mean, don't be an idiot. It's late. No one's going hunting while the rest of the world sleeps."

"Alright, officer. Where's my room?"

The DPO stopped mid-toothpick, eyes narrowing.

"It's been a long night, kid. A very long one."

The door slammed shut behind Azra.

Morning,

A loud radio blared from the wardens' room as deputies clocked in. Azra was escorted out.

"Look, we normally don't do this, Azra. But if you can't produce your license, you lose your car," the DPO warned.

"You have my word."

They accompanied Azra back to the bar. He approached the bartender.

"I left my driving license here," he said firmly.

The bartender gave him a look, cold and unreadable.

Azra handed him five Syrian pounds.

"Thanks," the bartender said, handing him the license.

"Let's not make this hard," the DPO said, pocketing it. "Azra, good meeting you. Don't screw up next time."

The officers left.

Azra's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

"Ah, Pie… I had to pick up my license. Figured I'd need it."

"So you're not coming?"

"I'm not sure, Pie. I think this is something I need to do alone."

"You're making a huge…."

Azra hung up before he could finish. He left the bar, got into his car, and drove to the train station.

He planned to head north. But the driver refused to go to North Syria the pandemic was still a big concern.

Azra decided he'd stop at the border instead.

(Exeunt)