Meerasim Ki Dunya

Chapter 25. Worry

Murtasim strode purposefully towards the imposing Malik residence, the gravel path beneath his boots crunching with each determined step. The building's grandeur loomed before him, its towering arches and intricate carvings casting long, ominous shadows that seemed to dance in the daylight.

He pushed open the massive, intricately carved wooden door, and it groaned ominously on its hinges. As the door swung open, the heavy scent of aged wood and the faint aroma of incense greeted him, setting an eerie backdrop to the impending confrontation. Murtasim entered the cavernous grand hall, where heavy, velvet drapes hung from the windows, casting a rich, crimson hue over the room. In the center, an opulent chair sat in its glory, occupied by none other than. Malik Mukhtar.

Malik Mukhtar, adorned in traditional attire, looked up from his contemplative state, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his eyes. He folded his hands, his fingertips just grazing his salt-and-pepper beard, which gave him an air of distinguished authority. "What brings you here, Murtasim?" he inquired with a voice that exuded a sense of authority, though thinly veiled with potential hostility.

Murtasim, unfazed by the intimidating surroundings, advanced with a solemn gaze locked onto Malik Mukhtar. His voice was unyielding, and he spared no words. "You know why I'm here," he said, the words resonating with unwavering determination. "Your son and his men abducted my wife, Meerab. She was taken against her will, and they mentioned your name. I demand answers."

As the tension in the room thickened, Murtasim's right-hand man, Bakhtu, stood by his side, his eyes as sharp as a hawk's, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. Along with Bakhtu, a couple of Murtasim's trusted guards flanked him, their expressions unwavering, their presence a testament to the gravity of the situation.

Before Murtasim could respond, the door to the grand hall swung open with a resounding thud, and Malik Zubair stormed in. His face was flushed with anger, his eyes burning with a volatile intensity that threatened to ignite the room. His hand instinctively reached for the concealed weapon tucked in his waistband, its hilt gleaming with perilous intent.

Murtasim's senses were on high alert, and he reacted with lightning speed. His fingers wrapped around the grip of his own weapon, the cold metal comforting in his palm. The room hung in a tense, breathless moment, the clash of wills palpable. Then, as the room teetered on the edge of chaos, Malik Zubair pulled the trigger.

The deafening gunshot echoed through the hall, and the bullet struck Murtasim, sending a searing shockwave of pain through his body. His cry filled the room as he staggered backward, his blood staining his clothes and pooling beneath his feet.

Malik Zubair's aim, distorted by his blazing anger, spared Murtasim from a fatal shot. The bullet struck him in the shoulder, tearing through flesh and muscle, but sparing his life. Murtasim's pain was excruciating, but his resolve remained unbroken.

Despite the searing pain, Murtasim's training and instincts took over. He squeezed the trigger of his own weapon, and a single shot rang out, striking Malik Zubair in the chest.

As he gasped for breath, Malik Zubair's eyes widened with disbelief, and his hand released its grip on the weapon. His crimson blood began to seep through his clothing, staining the fine fabric in stark contrast to the ornate surroundings.

Malik Mukhtar, who had been an unwilling spectator to this sudden and violent exchange, sat frozen in his chair. Horror and fear intermingled in his eyes, and the weight of the consequences of this confrontation hung heavily in the room's opulent air.

The grand hall, which had been the epicenter of tension and confrontation, now lay in eerie stillness, save for the ragged breathing of the wounded. Murtasim, clutching his bleeding shoulder, fought to remain upright, while Malik Zubair lay on the floor, gasping for breath, his life slipping away with every heartbeat.