𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 | 18+

04 | "𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝"

❝Maain dard hoon tu dawa hai...
Tujhse juda ho jaaun, main kahin khud se hi na ho jaun...❞
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Mayra's POV

"You scumbag?!"

The words erupted from my throat before I could think better, louder and sharper than I intended. The moment our eyes locked-his devilish gaze piercing through the black mask-I felt an icy recognition wash over me.

His smirk, slow and sinister, curled like poison, a taunting crescent beneath the mask, as if he had waited for this moment to reveal himself all along.

"You..." I stammered, my heart lurching violently in my chest. "You were in London... How-how the hell are you here? In India?"

He took his time answering, holding the blood-streaked dagger up to my face as if it were a treasured gift. The steel caught the moonlight, gleaming with a dreadful allure as he leaned in, so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over my cheek.

"To kill you," he whispered, his voice a low murmur, intimate yet menacing, like a lover sharing a dark secret.

I gasped, my breath catching painfully in my throat. My legs trembled beneath me as I instinctively stepped back, only to find myself sinking into the warm blood pooling around the lifeless body behind me. The dead man's vacant eyes stared into the void, his mouth frozen in a silent scream, as if still trapped in his final moment of terror.

"Wh-why...?" I managed to whisper, the question barely escaping my trembling lips.

"Why?" he echoed, and the amusement in his voice twisted like a knife. He laughed-a low, sinister sound that rang through the alley. "Because you insulted me."

I blinked in disbelief. "W-what?"

"Did you see how I slit this old bastard's throat?" He mimicked the motion of the blade, bringing the dagger through the air with exaggerated flair. "You want to know why? Because he disrespected me. Just like you did. And now..." He gestured mockingly to the corpse, his grin twisted, savage. "That's the result."

A wave of nausea crashed over me, churning my stomach as if it were being squeezed in a vice.

He took another deliberate step toward me, relishing the way I shrank back, my instincts screaming for escape. "You think I forgot that night in London, kitten? The way you looked at me as if I were beneath you-like you held power over me. That was cute."

"I-I didn't mean-" My voice cracked, fraying under the weight of fear. "Please... don't hurt me..."

"Aww," he cooed mockingly, his head tilted in false sympathy. "Where's the fire now? You were so bold then, called me names, got all feisty. What happened, brave girl?"

Tears streamed down my cheeks, each drop a testament to the terror coiling around my heart. My body shook uncontrollably, sweat pooling beneath my clothes, soaking my back as he leaned closer, filling the space between us with a dark, velvet threat. "Now it's your turn, babe."

"Please... I-I'm sorry. I'll never do it again. I swear," I cried, the words choking me as I clasped my hands together, pleading for mercy. My vision blurred, a shroud of tears distorting my reality. He was drinking in my fear with an insatiable hunger, enjoying every second of my despair.

Just when I thought he would end it-when I braced for the unbearable sting of the dagger against my skin-he suddenly dropped it. The clatter reverberated through the alley like thunder, shocking me into a stunned silence.