"𝑯𝒊𝒔 Bindani "

14. Crimson empire ✨

Happy reading ✨

Maaf kar dena ...pta h time nhi de pa rahi hu sorry 😔 🥺

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As Siya's scream tore through the room, the scene that unfolded before her was a vision straight out of a nightmare.

Hell would have been kinder.

Her voice cracked with desperation, a hollow echo of the agony that coursed through her veins-not because of a fleeting fear, but because of the sight that froze her soul.

Before her, a body-no, her brother's body-slumped in the chair, barely human, barely recognizable.

Thick ropes bound his limbs to the chair, digging so deep into his skin that wires seemed to fuse with his flesh, as if his very body had been torn apart and stitched back together with cruelty.

Bruises, cuts, and scars painted a grotesque map across his skin, each mark a testament to unimaginable suffering.

His mouth hung open as if he had been screaming for an eternity, yet no sound escaped.

Dried blood caked his lips, evidence of the torment he'd endured in silence.

His eyes-oh, those eyes-were a brutal horror of their own.

Someone had started cutting them but left the job unfinished, leaving jagged edges along the sides of his lids.

His tongue was no more than a jagged stump now, a cruel reminder of the depths of the brutality.

The blood that had once streamed from the wound had long since dried, leaving his mouth a desolate cavern of silent agony.

But it was his neck that turned Siya's blood cold-a deep, savage slash cutting a macabre cross across his throat, marking him as a sacrificial lamb, left to bleed out long before she could save him.

Time had robbed her of any hope.

Her brother was almost gone.

He stood there, shackled in torment, as small drops of liquid fell steadily from above. Each drop hissed as it made contact with his skin, burning painfully like acid, yet somehow leaving no visible scars behind. The pain was pure and relentless, designed to wound his spirit rather than his flesh.

His legs were wrapped in tight, twisted wires-sharp, biting into his skin with every movement. The metal constricted him, digging deep as if trying to claim his life one agonizing inch at a time. His hands and feet, devoid of nails, bled sluggishly. The absence of nails only added to the grotesque scene, as his body trembled in helpless exhaustion, trapped in a nightmare that offered no escape, only endless suffering.

As she burst into the room, her voice sharp and urgent, Raghav stood still beside her. He glanced to his right, where his petite wife, Siya, stood in the doorway. Her outburst lingered in the air, yet there was something different about her now. He gazed down at her, noticing how her eyes reflected a raw innocence, almost childlike, as if searching for reassurance. His heart softened at the sight.

In that moment, Raghav felt like a lost puppy-wide-eyed, uncertain, desperate to understand. There was a look in her eyes that tugged at him, a blend of confusion and tenderness that left him wondering: What was she searching for?

As the minutes passed, the weight of the moment began to sink in. Siya's breath slowed, her frantic emotions slowly coming under control. She blinked away the tears gathering in her eyes, taking a steady breath as she regained her composure. Love, care, and vulnerability all swirled within her as she collected herself, wiping away the chaos of her feelings. Finally, she understood-what she had been feeling, what she had been trying to convey without even realizing it.