Gunpoint

Gunpoint

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WpMetadataReadOngoing1h 16m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Dec 22, 2021
The sun has just set and it's already pretty dark since it started to rain. There is something about a rainy pathway that invites playful feet, when each new step will be rewarded with a splash. The sound of the drops hitting the floor resonates with the peaceful elements of the soul. Walking among those drops is my meditation, a way to fully become present in the moment, a way to feel free. I don't mind getting a little wet, as each drop rolls down my shirt, soaks my hair, and offers a peaceful melody to my ears. My black car with reflective film, requested my Hafsa so she can fix her scarf in the car without men peering in, shows a reflection of me walking towards the door. A smile escapes as I remember those fond memories when Aapa and I would bet, with bragging rights of course, on which drop would win the race. I open the wet, cold door handle, while giving a final wave to Aman who is standing by the door watching the raindrops hitting the door. As a kid with autism, the smallest details around him sparks his imagination. Sitting in the car, I shake drops of rain off my shirt as I settle in the seat. I put my hand through my wet hair and tried to fix it while checking in the car mirror. Adjusting the angle of the mirror, I notice a shadowy figure in the back seat. "What the hell?". Before I could even turn around, I felt a cold piece of metal on the back of my neck. Detective Haroon has been working for the NYPD for the last three years, and in this time, he has solved more cases than any other detective. So when he is assigned to the murder case of Madeline Hall, a 16-year old girl, with no leads, no witnesses, and no evidence, he is ready to crack the case. When the case begins to hit close to home, he realizes this case is bigger than he could have anticipated.
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#27
thinking
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He held up his hands, trying to sound casual, but the sight stopped her cold-blood smeared across his fingers, dark and fresh. "Relax, it's nothing," he said smoothly, his voice trying to soothe, but her heart pounded in stark disbelief. Her eyes widened, fixed on the crimson stains, a silent scream caught in her throat. Horror dripped from every glance. "Nothing? You killed him," she whispered, voice barely steady, trembling with a mixture of fear and accusation. "You're a murderer." He scoffed, a cold shadow flickering in his unreadable eyes. "Don't insult me wifey. I'm above that." The weight of his words pressed down like a guillotine as she steadied herself, voice sharp with defiance. "I'll tell everyone. I won't marry you." A slow, cruel smile curved his lips as he leaned in, his breath ghosting against her ear like a deadly promise. "Will you? Go ahead-tell everyone. I'll destroy everything you hold dear, just like your telling would destroy mine. We'll go down together." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "And as for not marrying me... oh wifey , you don't get to choose. You'll be mine-whether it's in a wedding dress, or buried in a legend". He wasn't supposed to pull her in-didn't even understand why he was drawn to her. She wasn't the most beautiful, but something beneath the surface called to him. A ruthless heir haunted by betrayal, he never let strangers close... yet he craved to keep her. ☆☆☆☆

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