Chapter 3: Bigger Monster
Later that evening, drenched and covered in mud, little Isra clung to the window. The storm outside roared with crackling lightning, and the clouds moved in a familiar frenzy. It had happened yet again. Deep down, she knew that... creature was somehow responsible for the frequent storms. She just couldn't figure out how. Her mind wandered to places it shouldn't. It had tasted very delicious. She shouldn't have let it go. Her thoughts grew animalistic, a mirage of the barbaric storm itself.
For a brief moment, the world was flooded with pale violet light, followed by a thunderous boom that shook the lacquered frame of the window in its sitting. Isra turned around. By the edge of the corner sat another girl, shorter than her, with curly brown hair tied up in a messy bun. Her hands were blackened with grease.
Electricity had completely gone out—a common occurrence during storms. The people of Nadiyapur were used to it. Tucked high in the mountains, their infrastructure barely functioned.
"So you're telling me that... the cloud meowed?" the girl asked, looking up from the strange machination in her hands. Her freckled cheeks and silver-braced teeth gleamed faintly in the candlelight. Despite the grease smudges on her face, her sharp, observant eyes glinted behind her round goggles.
Her room was a reflection of her eccentric personality. Bundles of wires, gears, and strange crafts covered one side, while the other held piles of books: advanced algebra, unholy mathematical incantations, and a few comic books peeking out from the mess. Isra often felt mortified in her best friend's room.
"Yes, it meowed," Isra replied matter-of-factly.
"Hmm." Khadija's response was as nonchalant as ever as she returned to oiling the weird motor-magnet contraption in her hands.
"So... what was it like?" she asked, without looking up this time.
"Like a meow," Isra replied flatly.
Khadija dropped the magnet onto the carpet and stood up. She perched her goggles higher on her nose and walked toward Isra, scrutinizing her like a mechanic inspecting a faulty engine.
"Look at me. Clouds can't talk."
"Yes, they can."
"No, they can't."
"I'll show you, Khadija. It threatened me. Why do you think I'm hiding in your house? It probably already knows where I live. It will come and finish the job. Now that I've told you everything, I need to plan my next move. The cloud will not give up."
Of course, none of that was true. Dramatization was Isra's foolproof way of roping her best friend into schemes. It worked every time.
Khadija sighed, rubbing her temples.
"How do we do this, then?" she asked, finally relenting.
Isra leaned in, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Listen. Come close. We will capture it," she declared.
As the shadows in the room deepened and the wind howled outside, their sinister plan began to take shape. The world outside thundered again, briefly illuminating Isra's maniacal yet innocent face reflected in Khadija's goggles. The flowers on the windowsill trembled, and the wind seemed to peek in, eager to witness the chaos these two were about to unleash.
"Get the vacuum. I'll get the flowers," Isra said, her voice steady with conviction.
Khadija nodded, her expression a mix of skepticism and reluctant loyalty. Usually, she would slap some sense into Isra, but in the end, she always followed along. She was a loyal soldier above all else.
As the storm ebbed, the two began their preparations. They had failed countless times before, and odds were they'd fail again—or maybe not. Usually, they lost focus halfway through, distracted by some new gadget or random drama, only to end up in more trouble. But this time felt different.
Isra was determined. She wouldn't let that cloud escape again, not after tasting its cotton-candy sweetness. The real question was: just how far would she go to catch it?
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
sherjanmirza
sherjanmirza Again, the inital length of chapters in this series will be short. This is to accomodate everyone including people who are becoming new readers. Thankyou for reading and supporting! <3
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