Episode 27: The Ghost's Smile
Rain poured through the shattered windshield like a thousand cold fingers clawing at her skin. Aaniya's breath came in shallow gasps, fogging the air inside the wrecked car. The metallic taste of blood coated her tongue, sticky and warm. Her vision swam, but the sound—the crunch of boots on wet asphalt—cut through the haze like a blade.
He was coming closer.
Suleman froze beside her, his body coiled tight, his jaw set in a line of iron. Blood trickled from his temple, cutting a dark path down his cheek, but his eyes burned like fire in the storm.
The figure stopped just a few feet away, framed in the jagged maw of the shattered windshield. Lightning cracked overhead, spilling his face into cruel relief—handsome once, maybe, but now carved with scars that twisted his smile into something monstrous.
"Round two," the man said, voice smooth as steel, each word a promise of pain. The gun gleamed black in his hand, an executioner's blade dressed in thunder and rain. "Ready to finish what you started?"
Aaniya's heart slammed against her ribs so hard it hurt. Her throat constricted, choking on panic, but the words tumbled out anyway—weak, trembling.
"Please… don't…"
The man's smile widened. His eyes flicked toward her, a glimmer of cruel amusement dancing in their depths. "She's prettier than I imagined," he murmured, almost to himself. Then, louder—"You always had good taste, Suleman."
Suleman's voice was low, deadly calm—the kind that made the air feel sharp enough to cut. "Let her go."
The stranger chuckled, shaking his head slowly. "Still playing the hero? After everything you did?" He pressed the gun barrel to the wrecked hood, letting it scrape as he leaned in close. "You don't get to give orders anymore."
Aaniya's pulse roared in her ears. Her fingers clawed at the seatbelt, slippery with blood, but it wouldn't budge. She felt like a trapped animal—helpless, drowning in the storm and the darkness in their voices.
"What do you want?" Suleman growled.
The man tilted his head, scar catching the lightning like a jagged blade. "What I've always wanted." His smile hardened, teeth bared. "To watch you lose everything—piece by piece."
His eyes slid back to Aaniya, and her blood turned to ice.
"No," Suleman snarled, his body lurching forward, but the stranger moved faster. The gun swung up, black and merciless, aiming straight for her.
Time slowed. Rain fell in silver threads. Her breath hitched.
Click.
The sound was louder than the thunder.
Aaniya flinched, bracing for the blast. But instead of fire and death, there was only laughter—soft, cold, rolling through the wreck like smoke.
"Relax," the man said, pulling the trigger again—another empty click. "Not yet."
Her lungs collapsed in on themselves. Empty. The gun was empty.
But before relief could take root, he leaned in closer, his smile slicing into her soul. "Bullets are too quick. You deserve something slower."
He yanked the door open with brutal force. Metal screamed. Rain and wind rushed in like a hurricane. Aaniya screamed as his hand clamped around her arm, dragging her out. Pain exploded in her shoulder where glass still bit into her flesh.
"Suleman!" she cried, nails digging into the door frame.
Suleman tore at his seatbelt, eyes wild with fury. "Touch her, and I swear—"
"You'll what?" The man's voice was silk and poison. "Finish the job this time?"
That made Suleman freeze. Just for a second—but Aaniya saw it. The shadow that passed over his face. The guilt.
"What… what job?" Her voice cracked as the stranger yanked her free, shoving her against the cold, slick metal of another car parked in the shadows.
The man's laugh was soft, almost tender. "He didn't tell you?" His breath brushed her ear as he whispered, "I'm the reason you're bleeding right now. Because your knight in shining armor once left me to rot in a ditch."
Her stomach lurched. The storm outside was nothing compared to the one inside her chest.
"That's enough!" Suleman's roar split the night as he stumbled out of the wreck, blood soaking through his shirt. His hand gripped something—a jagged shard of metal, gleaming wicked in the lightning.
The stranger turned, his grip tightening on Aaniya like a vice. The storm howled. The world held its breath.
And then—a single word shattered everything.
"Brother."
It fell from the stranger's lips like a curse. His eyes locked with Suleman's, blazing with hatred so raw it could burn the rain itself.
Aaniya froze. The ground tilted beneath her. Brother?
Her gaze darted between them, horror clawing up her throat.
Suleman's face was a mask of fire and shadows—but his silence told her everything.
The man smiled again, teeth flashing white in the dark. "Guess family reunions really do bring out the worst in us."
Before Suleman could move, the butt of the gun smashed into his skull. He crumpled to the ground, blood pooling dark against the rain-slick street.
Aaniya screamed, thrashing, but the stranger shoved her into the backseat of his car. The door slammed. Locks clicked.
Through the blur of tears and storm, her gaze locked on the dashboard—and the photo taped there.
Two men. Arms around each other's shoulders. Laughing like the world belonged to them.
Suleman.
And him.
Before darkness swallowed her, his voice curled through the rain like smoke.
"Round three's going to be fun."
To be continued…