Zayan's Abyss: Drenched in Blood and Agony

Chapter 16

Third Person Pov:

"Let's go," Ali said with a smile, but before they could take another step, a breathless voice interrupted them.

"Hello..."

They turned to see a man hunched over, panting heavily as if he had run a marathon.

"Who are you?" Ali asked, narrowing his eyes at the man dressed in an orange shirt with a company logo and black pants.

"I'm the delivery man," the stranger replied between gasps, holding out a tightly wrapped box. "I have a parcel for Bashir Muhammad Yousef."

"Bashir Muhammad Yousef?" Ali's eyes darkened, his mind racing. "He's still using that bastard's name?" he thought, irritation flaring.

Ali gave a curt nod, his voice tight. "Fine. Bashir, take it. Let's get going." Without hesitation, he gripped Fatima's hand a little too hard, his agitation no longer masked. Though to anyone watching, it would seem like he was simply eager to spend time with his beloved wife.

"I'm sorry, sir," the delivery man stammered, wiping sweat from his brow. "My bike broke down on the way, and there wasn't a station nearby. I didn't want to delay the delivery, so I ran all the way here. Please don't report me, I-"

"Enough." Bashir stepped forward, his voice cold. "Just give me the parcel." He took the package from the man's trembling hands and set it aside, signing the receipt with visible irritation. He despised unnecessary chatter and preferred people who knew when to stay quiet. "I won't complain."

The delivery man let out a breath of relief, his posture relaxing. "Thank you, sir! Every effort counts, you know." With a grateful nod, the man quickly left, his earlier panic subsiding as he jogged away.

"What's in the parcel, Bhai!?" Ayaan took the parcel, bouncing on his knees excitedly like a child waiting for his toys. His brothers chuckled at his enthusiasm amused. But before he could open the parcel, It was snatched away from him. "What the---

"It's from my friend, Ayu" Bashir teased, cutting off Ayaan's whining, using the nickname Ayaan hated, taking his parcel from Ayaan.

Ayaan puffed out his cheeks in irritation. "Don't use that name!" I'm Ayaan not Ayu!" His eyes burning with anger, glared at Bashir. "You know I don't like it, not anymore"

"Ayaan, I --- Before Bashir could complete his sentence, Ayaan stormed off to his room. "I guess I went a bit overboard with teasing."

"Again" Kareem added with a shrug. "You always do" His voice held with a mix of irritation and anger.

"Kareem-

"Don't 'Kareem' me! You know how he feels it yet you always do it. Some wounds can never be healed. And for that wound, you don't need to put salt over it" Kareem shouted, his voice rising, his breathing quicker, his fist clenched tightly as he shoved Bashir, a bit harshly, before storming into Ayaan's room.

"Bashir! Are you alright!?" Fatima grabbed him, checking him over and over. "I will talk to Ayaan and make him understand"

Bashir smiled, kissing her forehead, "Don't worry, Ami" He paused for a while before continuing "I will talk to him. We will be fine like before. You go and have fun" His voice, soothing and calm, reassured their mother a bit. Her shoulder still tense was wrapped in arms. Bashir's seemed to calm his mother.

"Don't ever fight again.... please" Her voice wavered as she leaned into his embrace. "I don't like when you fight. I don't want to lose any of you again"

"You won't, Mother. Never. Not because of him anymore." Bashir's determined voice came through his mother's fog of fear though he whispered the last part to himself.