A man stood drenched in blood, not his own; that much was certain. Out in the deserted lot, moonlight caught the lines of his bare torso. The cut on his wrist was sharp and still bleeding, yet he didn’t seem to feel an ounce of it. His hair hung messy with sweat, and the knife in his other hand slipped loose, forgotten.
It hit the ground with a loud clatter. The men before him were nothing but corpses now, all but one, who dragged himself backwards, clinging to the hope that something might save him from the death closing in. He was dead wrong.
The man stepped closer, unhurried. No urgency. No anger. The black '77' tattoo scripted above his heart stood out starkly beneath the moonlight. Just the calm of someone who had all the time in the world.
He snapped the shirt sharply, scattering the remaining specks of soil into the air. One harder snap, and the fabric was clean enough. He pulled it back on.
Buttoning his shirt with steady hands, he started toward the man still dragging himself away in terror. Blood dripped onto the fabric, but he didn’t so much as glance down. He reached for the gun tucked in his waistband, the one he’d carried the entire time, patient, waiting for its moment.
He never broke eye contact as he closed the distance, fisting a hand into the man’s hair and wrenching his head back. A choked sound tore out of the man’s throat. The gun came up next, pressed hard between his shaking thighs, and his breath hitched sharp and fast.
His eyes gave nothing away. Cold. Hollow. Unreadable. Even as his hands spoke every word, his face refused to. For a beat, the world seemed to hold its breath with him. Only the wind moved, dragging across the empty lot, carrying the smell of blood and gun oil.
Then his voice cracked low from his throat, rough with restraint. “Uske piche jaane ke liye, tujhse kisne kaha tha?” (Who told you to go after her?)
The man collapsed into sobs, shaking, sweat running down his face in rivulets. He searched those eyes for even a flicker of mercy and found nothing but emptiness staring back, and in that silence, he understood exactly how much was still to come.
“R-Reid–AAAHHHH!!–”
The name never made it past his lips; a scream ripped out of him. Raw. Animal. Unrecognisable as anything human before it broke down into shuddering. The trigger went first. The shot tore through him, the bullets ripping violently through the flesh between his thighs and painting the ground in a wide, merciless spray of red.
The moment he let go of the man’s hair, the body dropped behind him and hit the ground with a thud. He snapped his fingers in the air, and the drops of blood on them scattered, catching the light for a second before falling somewhere on the ground. He tucked the gun back into his waistband, turned, and walked away without looking back.
And yes – that man was none other than ZAYNE SHAH!
Kochi, Kerala – Resort
Screams pierced through the club, but there was no one inside. The night grew deeper, and waves from the sea sloshed heavily against the shore. The entire area lay deserted. No guests, no staff, not even a distant light from the resort’s usual activity.
The air turned heavy as tall seaside trees swayed violently in the strong night wind. The once-lively resort stood silent, its empty walkways, closed lounge areas, and darkened pool reflecting the stillness of a place abandoned for the night.
Inside the club’s private VIP room, a woman lay naked on the bed, her wrists tightly bound to the bedpost.
The room was dim and silent, the only movement coming from the flicker of a failing light overhead. Outside, the distant roar of the sea pressed against the walls, but inside, everything felt unnaturally still.
The woman’s scream tore through the silence of the VIP room. Her body tensed as she struggled against the restraints, the struggle growing weaker with every passing second. The bindings held firm against the wooden post, refusing to give.
Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as pleasure set in. The room felt smaller now, the silence heavier, broken only by the distant roar of the sea outside.
The man above her drove even deeper into her, tearing the screams out of her throat. Her body responded to his every touch and the animalistic thrusts.
He leaned in until his face was level with hers, brushing the wet strands of hair from her cheek, the touch almost gentle, which made it even worse. A sick, psychotic smile spread slowly across his lips as he leaned closer and whispered, his voice dark and quiet, right against her ear.
“Wide enough to hold everything I have to give you.” He rasped, his voice thick and strained. He pushed his d*ck deeper, adjusting his grip to meet the frantic rhythm of her hips better. “But you’re tight. So tight, it’s driving me insane.”
He watched her face closely, tracking the way her eyes rolled back and her lips parted with every thrust. The control he prided himself on was fraying at the edges, replaced by something much more primal.
“You were made for this.”
He whispered, his thumb working on her clit ruthlessly as his thrust grew even rougher. His breath came in short, jagged bursts. Watching her like this, sweat-slicked, eyes glazed with pleasure, moving against his hips.
He pulled out only to slam harder into her. The sound she made, that sharp, uninhibited cry of pure pleasure, was the only thing he needed to hear. He watched her mouth fall open, her eyes half-lidded and unfocused, and felt a surge of triumph so powerful it almost eclipsed the physical sensation.
He didn’t pull back. Instead, he increased the pressure, his length moving in a way that was both firm and incredibly precise, driving her closer to the edge.
His mouth opened, his teeth grazing her swollen lip, drinking in her every gasp like a hungry beast. A low moan vibrated in her chest, a sound of complete and utter surrender.
He pulled back, and this time, he slammed harder inside her. “AAAHH!!”
The scream tore from her throat, a raw, unbridled roar that echoed off the high ceilings of the master suite. He spilt every drop inside her, then, giving a smack on her butt, he pulled out roughly. As if he didn’t care about her now.
“I like women who break for me, not women who come to break me.”
He came to the bedside and yanked off the chains that held her tightly against the bedpost. In a swift motion, her hands dropped to her sides, and her body jolted against the bed. She lay there, exhausted. The thick release trickled down her thighs.
He didn’t even bother to look back at her. He pulled on his pants, walked out onto the balcony, and lit a cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly.
The skull-and-roses tattoo that stretched across his left arm glimmered in the dim light. Beads of sweat traced their way through his rain-darkened locks, while strands of hair veiled his eyes, making him look like something torn from a nightmare. And this nightmare was ‘DAVID REID.’
Taking out his phone, he dialled a number he seemed to have been waiting to call. He pressed the call button and held the phone tightly to his ear, taking another drag from his cigarette as he waited.
The phone connected immediately to the person he had called. "I heard you've been missing me a lot these days."
"I'm coming."
Those were the only words that came from the other end of the line. Before David could utter a single word in response, the call ended with a sharp click.
"Fucking hell!"
The curse slipped through gritted teeth as he glared at the darkened screen. Rage surged through him like wildfire. He took a long, harsh drag from his cigarette, the burning tobacco doing little to calm the storm raging inside him.
With a violent flick of his wrist, he hurled the phone across the balcony. It slammed into the wall with a sickening crack before crashing onto the floor, its screen splintering into a web of shattered glass.
David let out a frustrated growl and raked both hands through his hair, shoving the unruly strands back from his face. They refused to stay in place, falling stubbornly over his eyes again, as though even they were mocking his rapidly fraying patience. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached, while the room echoed with the tense silence left by him.
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