「 𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 」

Death Investment

Ayana loved the way the evening sun framed her hometown, casting the streets in a soft golden hue as she made her way back home from her favourite café. The comforting smell of freshly baked pastries lingered on her clothes, remnants of her usual indulgence in strawberry tarts, a treat she often shared with her father.Even though they were a small family, Ayana’s heart swelled with love.

After her mother’s untimely run away years ago, she and her father built their world around each other—a fortress of laughter, movie nights, and kitchen experiments that occasionally ended in disaster.

Yet today, her heart felt unusually heavy, weighed down not just by the exhaustion of her day’s practice sessions with Dylan but by an overwhelming sense of weariness that seemed to gnaw at her soul.

The sky darkened swiftly as storm clouds danced on the horizon, casting an eerie gloom that pervaded her surroundings.

“Just breathe, Ayana,” she whispered to herself. “It’s probably nothing.” Yet as she rounded the last corner of her street, doubt clawed at her.

Ahead, she noticed a black car parked outside her house, its windows tinted like the shadows draped over her heart. She slowed her pace and squinted, trying to make out the shapes of the figures surrounding her home.

Dressed in black, the men moved with urgency, their eyes scanning the vicinity as though something more sinister was just out of sight. A wave of dread washed over her; something was profoundly wrong.

Overwhelmed, she stood frozen, her mind racing with questions as fragments of nightmares and anxieties fused into one terrifying reality.

“What’s happening?” she muttered under her breath, her heart beating in anticipation of bad news. The joyful chatter she often shared with herself began to fade, overtaken by a suffocating silence which enshrined her thoughts.

Then, it hit her. The weariness seemed to gnaw at her soul. Regret washed over her as she recalled how she had brushed aside feelings of foreboding on her walk home.

But the fear now twisted into a palpable grip on her throat, choking back her breath and filling her mind with a torrent of scenarios.

“Is… is this a prank?” she whispered to herself, but her voice trembled with fear. Her father, her rock since her mother’s departure, couldn't be involved in this chaos. Not him. Yet with every passing moment, the dread coiled tighter around her heart.

Then came the twisted realisation of what she might lose. “No!” she shouted, taking an unsteady step forward. “Leave my dad alone!” The words exploded from her lips before she could think better of them. The men froze momentarily, their heads snapping in her direction.

The leader, tallest and more imposing than the rest, turned his gaze toward her. His dark eyes widened slightly, but as his companions shifted their attention to her, she noticed something unspeakable in their expressions—entertainment mixed with menace.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins, a whip of fire igniting her fear into something fiercer. Desperate thoughts raced through her mind, weaving a tapestry of what-ifs that filled her with horrifying imagery.

What if they were here to take her dad? What if they were going to hurt him? She strained to listen, her heart hammering as the murmurs grew louder, mingled with the unmistakable sound of her father’s voice—a tone filled with confusion, perhaps tinged with fear.

In a twist of fate, Ayana remembered the small wooden box under her bed, filled with notes and mementos of moments shared with her father.

Each piece held joys and laughter, but they were rooted in a time when shadows loomed less ominously over their home. If something happened to him, would those memories be all she had left? The twisted realisation of what she might lose sent a fresh wave of fear crashing over her.

“Stop!” she screamed, this time rushing down the hill toward them. The ground beneath her feet felt uneven, as if the earth itself conspired to keep her from reaching her dad. “Let him go!”

One of the men stepped forward, and the sunlight obscured his face in darkness. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice dripping with a sickly sweet tone.

“Ayana!” she shouted back, defensively, but there was a momentary tremor in her voice that betrayed her fright. “What do you want with him?”

“Just a little chat,” the man replied, flashing a grin that did not reach his eyes. “Your father owes us. And debts have to be paid.”

The words struck her like a knife, and the chilling realisation hit harder than any blow. All those late-night absences, her father’s worried glances when bills piled high, and whispered conversations she wasn’t supposed to overhear—debt. The thought twisted her stomach as she realised this was not random; it was calculated.

Without thinking, Ayana charged forward, fueled by desperation, yelling for her father, “Dad! I’m here! I’m here!” Her voice sliced through the thick air.

Her father glanced toward her, his face a mask of fear and pride. “Ayana, no! You need to go!”

But she wasn’t going to abandon him. She couldn’t. She took a deep breath, the coolness of the approaching storm sweeping through her.

Love drowned out her fear momentarily. She rushed to his side, standing firm despite the imposing figures surrounding them.

“What do you want?” she demanded again, her voice stronger than she felt. “You’ll regret this, I swear!”

The men exchanged glances, and for a moment, Ayana felt a flicker of hope—that perhaps their presence was more a show than a real threat.

But that hope extinguished instantly as the leader stepped closer, invading her space. “You think you’re in control here?” His voice was low and dangerous.

“No,” she said, although it felt like the truth was slipping from her grasp. “But you won’t take him.”

With each passing second, the air thickened around them, tension cocooning as though the world narrowed to this moment.

The leader chuckled ominously, stepping back, seemingly entertained by her defiance.
“Bring her in.”,he said, snapping his fingers at his men who shifted uneasily.

As they moved to grab her, Ayana’s heart thudded in her chest, but determination overcame her. She recalled all the moments they had shared, all the laughter and stories that filled their home, and she realised what she truly had to lose and couldn’t allow it to slip away.

“No!” she shouted again, forcing herself past the encroaching figures, her voice summoned from the deepest part of her fear. “You want money? Take it! Just leave him alone!”

The men paused, momentarily thrown off balance by the ferocity in her voice. The leader, a tall figure with a scar running down his cheek, turned to look at her.

“That’s exactly why I came here, sweetheart. I want my money. Sadly, he doesn’t have it. I waited for months, and you know what I gotta do, right?”

Each syllable dripped with malice. Ayana’s mind raced. How could this be happening? It was as if a nightmare had spilled from the pages of a thriller novel and wrapped itself around her, constricting her breath.