Vows of Vengeance - "Behind the veil, secrets and revenge entwined."
"Hello"
A familiar voice spoke from the other end.
"Hello Di...di... please.. save me."
The voice quivered breaking the stillness of the night. It was her little sister and she cou...
The door splintered under the force, revealing a scene that was a grotesque mockery of human habitation. The apartment was a macabre tableau, a canvas splashed with the crimson hues of violence. Every surface seemed to bear the imprint of a frenzied struggle. Overturned furniture, shattered glass, and discarded objects lay strewn across the floor, creating a labyrinth of chaos. And at its heart, a crimson pool, a stark, accusing stain that seemed to pulse with a sinister life of its own.
Aradhya's breath caught in her throat. The apartment, a potential sanctuary, had transformed into a chamber of horrors. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of fear and determination. This was not what she had anticipated. Where was Aisha? Was she alive? The blood pool, a stark, crimson testament to violence, sent a chill down her spine. Her heart pounded in her ears, a frantic drumbeat that threatened to drown out her thoughts.
"Check of any signs that may provide us a lead," she ordered, her voice barely a whisper. Her gaze was fixed on the crimson pool, a vortex of dread pulling her in.
Jung with his team moved with swift, efficient precision. They examined every nook and cranny, their faces a mask of professional detachment. But Aradhya knew better. The tension was palpable, the silent question hanging in the air: Where was Aisha?
Her mind was a battleground. One part of her clung to the hope that Aisha was still alive, that she would find her, rescue her. The other part, cold and calculating, was already constructing a grim scenario. She pushed the dark thoughts away, focusing on the task at hand.
"Identify the blood," Aradhya ordered, her voice trembling slightly. "And check with the neighbours if they saw anything unusual."
An hour passed, and the apartment yielded its secrets grudgingly. There were fingerprints, smudged and partial, offering tantalizing glimpses into the lives of those who had been here. Hairs, both human and animal, clung to the furniture, silent witnesses to an unseen drama. These were the tangible remnants, the physical evidence that would hopefully lead to answers.
But there was no sign of Aisha. No hidden compartments, no secret passageways. The apartment held no comforting secrets, only a chilling emptiness. The blood pool, a crimson stain on the floor, remained as the haunting centrepiece of the crime scene remained the only tangible clue.
But as she waited, her mind wandered, constructing endless scenarios. Was this where Aisha had fought for her life? Was she injured here, or was she brought in, lifeless? The possibilities were endless, each one more terrifying than the last.
With a forced breath, her gaze swept across the room. The apartment held no more secrets for her. It was time to leave, to take the fragments of evidence and try to piece together the puzzle of Aisha's disappearance. As she turned to leave, she glanced back one last time at the blood pool and exited the apartment.
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The following morning, medical report landed on Aradhya's desk like a physical blow. The crisp, clinical language of the document starkly contrasted the turmoil within her. The words were simple, damning: the blood belonged to the man they were searching for and except his there were no other fingerprints found no evidence showing any signs of Aisha and the man was nowhere to be found. They reached right where they started.
