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There was a chilling silence surrounding the dark walls of the torture room. I was smiling and revolving around the freaking boss of that driver with slow and steady steps. Every time he gasped for air, that healed my scars. Scars of seeing Vidya struggling for life.
Today I have decided to free him as I can't play with the same toy for this long. I stopped and stood in front of him, took out my gun from the overcoat and sat on my foot. Dramatically rubbing the muzzle on my forehead. His barely opened eyes widened as he saw the gun in my hand, my smile intensified.
"If you had to kill me, you should've done it a month ago." He spat, weakly.
My face turned to stone as I pointed the gun at him and replied as calmly as I could, "I could've killed you right there on the road. But then, how would I have seen you in the same pain in which I saw my wife?"
I placed the gun to his chest and leaned to his ears then muttered,
"Anyone who even thinks of stopping my wife's breath, I will snatch the life out of them."
With that the gunshots filled the room, one after another the bullets ripe his heart making way for his soul to exit easily.
I step back, kicked the chair making his lifeless body fell on the floor.
That was enough to calm my soul and to serve the justice.
I walked out of the room while the guards moved in to clean the mess.
I went inside the restroom to wash my hands. As I turned on the tap, the sound of water got overshadowed by her voice—
"Hume khoon se dar lagta hai...." ("I'm scared of blood...")
I stood there for minutes, blankly staring at my blood-stained hands. Hands that had known violence far too intimately. Hands that had fought, destroyed, and protected. Hands that had once tried to touch hers—only to realize how wrong that looked.
I always hated holding her hands in mine. Because hers were symbols of purity, untouched by the dirt of this world... And mine? They were chaos. They were scars in motion.
Maybe she was never meant for me. Maybe I really am a monster... But I'm the kind of monster that hunts devils, not gods.
With that, I let the water run cold and washed my hands— Not to clean them... But to remember why they were stained in the first place.
.
.
.
On my way to Anirudh's home, I unintentionally slammed the brakes near Vidya's office. My eyes automatically drifted toward the building, and my hand moved to the door handle, ready to step out. But I paused.
