Loved your story till now. And if you want criticism - your way of story-telling did not quite grip me. May I suggest you to focus on the details. That adds resolution to the mental picture in the mind of the reader. Now, while I am no writer, I do know when I come across an expertly written crisp narrative. Please, don't take it otherwise.

Waiting for the next part!

Sorry for the long delay, I was too lazy to sit in front of the comp to write what was in my head. So here goes the remaining part of the story

..........................I stood rooted to the spot as though some had driven a stake through my legs to the ground. A shiver ran through my spine as a cold chill engulfed me, choking my breath. I truly was scared for my life at that very moment, for there standing in front of me was an Enfield and not just any Enfield, a Black one is the baddest of the lot, the king of the minions, the Devil himself. At eight you become deeply religious irrespective of your opinion on God during a crisis; some of us are still that way. And therefore I prayed poignantly to God, His Son, His foster parents, heck anyone even remotely related to the guy that we get on our Guest’s scooter and just get some distance between me and the devil bike. So I looked up at him trying to convey all that I was feeling above desperately through to him so that he can save me from this imminent danger. Then I noticed something stirring in our Guest’s eye’s the brilliance I had noticed was replaced by a manic glow, and the corner of his lips curled into a very slight and barely noticeable grin but a grin nevertheless as he kept looking in the direction of the Enfield parked outside our house. I was hoping against hope that I was wrong and was just imagining what I thought was going to happen.

Then the world as I knew it collapsed all around me, he walked slowly towards the bike looking admiringly at it, he had his head tilted to one side as he walked diagonally to the bike as though trying to look at it from a different angle as though he was talking to it telepathically, his face was slowly contorting into a wicked smile, his eyebrows started arching higher and higher, cheeks started tightening upwards and lips started curling thin as he threw his leg over the it, and kicked out the side stand. The very thought of such a thing happening to me would have given me nightmares for a good part of a week, imagine the burden of fear I had to cope up with. His eyes, his eyes were pure evil when he said that like there was a big fire going on in the back of his head and I could see it through his eyes. His mouth had now taken a full formed grin, his mouth was open from ear to ear literally and his lips were drawn inwards, it was like a dog snarling but only difference is that he was doing it as an expression of his pleasure rather than anger. He was sitting there grinning then he beckoned me to come to him, his voice taking on an dry raspy quality like grating a blackboard with your nails ”Hop-on sport, lets go for a ride”. He had sensed my dread in him, and he held his gaze unwaveringly on me, all the while grinning. I was screaming inside my head that I make a run for it, I had replayed such a scenario in my head a number of times, I was the quickest in my class if I make a run for it I could probably get to the shed where they have the water pump behind my house. He wouldn’t be able to locate me unless he could cut through the thick bush cover along the sides of my house through which only I would be able to wiggle through, by which time I would have scaled three neighboring houses behind mine and got to Girish’s house. But I froze on the spot, I had already reached the safe spot in my head but my legs were yet to take the first step. He put his hand out gesturing me to come to him, and as if he had put a hook on my navel I was pulled towards him. He was inside my head making me walk towards him, walk towards certain death, Mom, Dad, Sister I love you all and I’m going to miss you a lot when I’m gone. My legs stopped as they reached near him, he bent down and picked me up, his hands were ice cold but his eyes were burning like a forest fire, the chill of his hands were so much that I felt as though few degrees dropped in my heart. He then kicked the starter and his bike came to life with a deafening roar piercing my ear drums drowning everything in the background. I was too afraid to even close my ears. I felt so high up on the bike that I was scared that I might slip off, or more likely “slipped-off” as is the favored way of this clan to take human blood for their sustenance.

The bike was a throbbing beast between my legs roaring, vibrating as the visitor slowly started moving the bike. This was all to much for me to take in, I grabbed the handrail tight till my knuckles turned pale white and screwed my eyes shut. And suddenly as soon as my eye-lids touched I had a sort of premonition, as though I sucked into a big tube of a giant vacuum cleaner, and then as I opened my eyes I was standing in some sort of a desolate highway, pitch black with almost no light except for a faint glow of a few stars overhead. There was absolute silence all around me, the more I try to listen for a sound the more silent it got, the silence was almost deafening to my ears. I tried moving around in the dark, I kept stumbling on stones and stick’s on the ground bruising my knees and elbows, I had to get on all fours to stop falling over again. I kept feeling the asphalt with one hand, so that I don’t stray too far away from the highway. My fingers felt something wriggly and woody to touch, wrinkled and dusty, as thick as my hand and thinning out in the distance. “Must be a root” I thought inside my head, I started following the root to its thicker end, which would lead me to the trunk at the other end. As I was following there was something else on the ground, it was thin and long like a stick, tapering at both edges, with bulbs inside them, like peas in a pod only bigger and harder. It was rough to the touch and broke quite easily, and inside there was a pulpy and sticky mass with a lot of strands in them. By this time I was soaking wet with sweat pouring through down my face, scared beyond my imagination to really understand what was happening, I went close to the trunk and sat between what seemed to be two fat roots going from it. I didn’t know whether I should cry or run or scream for help, the overwhelming circumstances seem to have found me dumbfounded. I sat there praying for help, I wiped the sweat from my face and mouth, and suddenly I tasted something sour in my fingers . My mouth was bone dry and the sourness was almost painful on my lips, my head shuddered from side to side in an involuntary motor action like one does when he has had too much of some taste, like tamarind in this case……………………Tamarind! When you reach a point where you think you can’t get anymore scared, fear has a cruel way of proving this otherwise, as though stranded in a desolate highway wasn’t scary enough, the only place where I happen to find refuge was a tamarind tree.

I was starting to get a familiar burning sensation in the face, I could feel my eyes getting blurry with tears in them. I started crawling away from the trunk feeling for the hard asphalt with my hands, tears flowing down my eyes, there only so much a kid can take. As soon as my fingers touched the familiar hard surface, I heard something rumbling, at first I thought it was only my head playing games at it’s breaking point. Then I could actually hear it getting louder in volume, then I totally lost my mind I got up and started screaming at the sound at the top of my lungs, wildly swinging my fists at the darkness lunging rocks, sticks whatever I could pick off the ground, I had already given up hope and nothing by fighting. “Aaaarrrghh, come on come on, fight me, I’ll tear you apart, arrrgh” I simply let lose all the pent up emotions at the night hoping I hit something. The rumbling all the while was slowly increasing in intensity and with it I was able to see a light in the distance as well, the intensity of the rumbling and the light grew proportionally towards me. The light and sound grew bright and loud and stopped a few feet away from me blinding my eyes that I was not able to see what the source of all this was. The I could feel the ground vibrating with the rumble, my screams were hardly audible even to me over the sound, the only way I knew I was screaming was because my throat started hurting. The sound had a familiar deep and repetitive beat with a slightly metallic edge towards the end, the bright light made it impossible to ascertain what made such a noise. Then it started coming closer towards me and stopped at a distance were I could have put my hand out and touched it without even trying to, suddenly a hand stretched out and caught my wrist firmly. I tried wriggling it out my the grip was firm and strong that it hurt my hand a lot, then I heard a raspy voice close to my ear, “Don’t worry I letting you off easy, it was tempting to totally empty you out, but I might need you when you grow up, I’m getting old and I could use a hand if I still need to be around, go to your parents they’re waiting”

Then as though I had woken up from a terrible nightmare, I found myself standing in front of a brightly lit building with a neon-sign in the shape of a big ice-cream cone behind me. And our guest was leaning down from his bike as though he had just put me down from the Bullet. He was looking politely at me, the light from the neon behind me highlighting his handsome Grecian features, his eye shone with a brilliant sparkle like he’s laughing cordially without actually smiling at the lips. I walked towards my parents waiting for me in the brightly colored table put out in the patio of the parlor. As I was walking I had a strange feeling like I had just experienced an terrifying ordeal, my adrenaline was surging but I couldn’t recollect what I had done to be so excited

We all had big scoops of ice-cream served to us at the parlor courtesy of Mr. Cool Guy as I had decided to call him since I couldn’t really catch his name or probably am not remembering it. He was as usual playing a great host to us in return for ours. He told us about the places he had been and narrated some exciting adventures he had gone through, he told us about how once he had escaped from road bandits on a desolate highway when he was stranded, it seems he stood underneath a tamarind tree didn’t speak a word and kept staring into a distance, it seemed to work because as per local folklore if you stand underneath a tamarind tree at the middle of the night the devil comes to steal your soul. And this scared off the bandits senseless, and they ran off head over heels; he then walked five kilometers to the nearest petrol filling station to phone for help. And by this time I was in deep awe of the man, he was Indiana Jones and he was having lunch at my house, he was James Stewart’s Indian version if it wasn’t for my mother I would have asked for an autograph from him. After a while he bade us goodbye and then winked at me as he was going to his bike “What a great guy”, I thought “And he rides a great bike too, I really liked his bike” as he got onto his lovely looking black Bullet, I immediately was attracted by his whole persona he potrayed, as I watched him ride his Bullet through the traffic I told my family,

“When I grow up, I want to be just like him”

“Like what?“ asked my father

“A Biker.”

Thank you, if you have read the second half of this story you'll notice that it's a little bit detailed in the depiction of the scenario, actually this is the usual way i write but, sometimes i get into the narration of the setting too specifically that the narration of the scene is lost. Now you'll have to evaluate this again and tell me where else we can tweak this story.

Well i guess now you have to read the rest of the story to find out now won't you?

Ok..good till now.. pls continue..

There's more? :P

Who is THAT guy?? (mr cool guy)

Nice one til now.. took me time to piece stuff together though

Total insult , the story has ended with the previous part, was i being too ambiguous??

Sorry about that. I thought the last part was still to come. I mean you haven't told us who the biker was! And it was a bit ambiguous though!

liked the first part ...

... Reading the seconds part was getting interesting & then ...


i missed something here..
I dunno i lost the feel of the story, i dunno know were were you heading, & i lost my mind off ur story now, i dont feel like reading ... until if you can clarify

My opinion

It's very deep and involving.I have to admit it's confusing when you tell your illusion when you were riding on the bullet .But i liked it nonetheless.

P.S : you have loads of memory to remember all the details.