Hashim walked toward Qasim, a twisted smile playing on his face.
"So… how are you, hero?" he asked mockingly. "Only a few hours left before you die. I may have fed you these past days, but your blood… it's been dripping, drop by drop. And now—there's barely any left in you."
He came closer, leaned in, and whispered with a smirk,
"I went to your house today. And guess what? I liked your sister."
Qasim's eyes widened with fury. Without hesitation, he rammed his head forward, striking Hashim hard against the forehead.
Hashim stumbled back with an "Ouch!"
"Wow, you too?" he laughed. "You and your sister—both full of fire! Is this how your whole family is? No wonder you act like a hero."
Hashim rubbed his forehead and muttered,
"Forget about tonight's dinner now, idiot. If you love playing the hero so much, you can go hungry."
Nightfall. A dark, moonless sky.
Hashim moved through the shadows like a predator. He quietly reached Qasim's house, careful not to make a sound. He began searching room to room, whispering to himself with eerie calm.
"This room's empty… must be the crazy brother's. That must be the old parents' place. And this one… this must belong to my sweetheart."
He stepped into the room slowly, pulling up a chair beside the bed where Fatima lay asleep.
For a moment, he just stared at her.
"You know… I really do like you," he said softly to the sleeping girl.
Something didn't feel right to Fatima. Her instincts stirred her awake. She turned—and froze.
Hashim was sitting right there, his eyes locked on her.
She bolted upright, her voice filled with panic.
"You?! What are you doing here? Get out—get out right now! Or I swear I'll scream so loud, the whole neighborhood will beat you senseless! You won't even remember your own name!"
Hashim slowly stood up and stepped closer to her.
He smiled darkly and said in a hushed voice,
"Go ahead. Scream. But people will only ask—why was a man inside an unmarried girl's room… in the middle of the night?"
He walked back, calmly sat on the chair again, and made a casual hand gesture.
"Go on. Scream if you want."
Fatima stepped back, her breath quickening. Her hand moved behind her, fumbling for something—until her fingers wrapped around the handle of a knife placed on the table.
Hashim got up again and started walking toward her.
Fatima raised the knife instantly, her voice sharp and trembling.
"Don't come any closer!"
But Hashim didn't stop. He tilted his head, grinning.
"Oh sweetheart… are you really going to stab me? Come on, do it."
He took another step toward her.
Fatima's hands were shaking, but her voice was firm.
"I swear, if you take one more step… I won't hesitate."
But Hashim kept moving—until he was within reach.
And just then, Fatima plunged the knife straight into his chest.
He flinched, his eyes flickering with both pain and something else—something almost proud.
Even as blood soaked his clothes, he leaned closer, his voice low, sincere.
"I'm serious… I really like you. I know I'm a terrible person… my ways, my choices—they're all wrong. But this… this feeling… it's real."
He looked down, slowly pulled the knife out, and tossed it aside.
Without another word, he turned around and left.
He later treated his wound quietly, alone.
And as the pain throbbed through his chest, he chuckled.
Not because it didn't hurt—but because for one small moment… he had been close to her.
So close.
After Hashim left, Fatima finally exhaled a shaky breath. Her hands trembled, and her heart was racing like a storm inside her chest. She whispered to herself, "I was so scared… I didn't even realize when I stabbed him. I just… I just did it. I can't even imagine myself doing something like that. What just happened to me?"
She sat down slowly on the edge of her bed, her legs weak, her mind spinning. "If my brother was here… if Qasim had been here, none of this would have happened. He would've protected me. He always did. Brother where are you? I need you… I need you now more than ever."
Her eyes welled up with tears as the silence of the night wrapped around her.
Meanwhile, Abdul Rehman was restlessly searching for Qasim even at that late hour. The moonlight dimly lit the narrow paths as he moved swiftly, hoping to find a clue. And then, suddenly, in the distance—he noticed a boy quietly stepping out of Qasim's house. His breath caught.
"Could that be him…? Could that be Qasim?" the thought raced through his mind.
The figure was too far for Abdul Rehman's voice to reach, so instead of calling out, he silently followed the boy, keeping his steps light. His instincts screamed at him to stay cautious.
The boy seemed to know exactly where he was going. He turned through small alleys and entered a strange, hidden place—a location even Abdul Rehman hadn't seen before. From the shadows, Abdul Rehman watched closely, hiding himself behind a wall.
He squinted… It was Hashim. Hashim had come there to rest, unaware that someone had seen him.
Abdul Rehman's fists clenched, his mind racing.
"If I go now, he'll know someone's here. I'll blow my cover. I should come back a little later… but before that, I must confirm something."
He decided to visit Qasim's home first and ask—was it really Qasim who had just walked out, or someone else?
He made his way towards the house, his heart beating fast with a strange fear. As he neared, Fatima saw him from the window. Her face was still pale, her hands trembling.
Abdul Rehman knocked gently but firmly.
When Fatima opened the door, he saw it immediately—her face… she looked terrified. Her eyes told a story of horror.
"My sister… are you okay? What happened? Why do you look so frightened? And who was that boy I saw leaving your house just now?"
Fatima hesitated at first, but then the whole incident came pouring out—Hashim, the knife, the threat, everything. Her voice trembled, but she told him everything.
Abdul Rehman's eyes narrowed. He understood immediately—"That was him. That same boy. And if he's here, then maybe, just maybe… we're close to finding Qasim too."
He clenched his fists and took a deep breath.
"I'll have to do something… and I must do it before Fajr. Before the world wakes up. Before Hashim disappears again. Before it's too late…"
.
.
Question for reders:
If you were in Fatima's place—alone, terrified, and cornered by someone dangerous in the middle of the night—would you have had the courage to defend yourself like she did? And what do you think Hashim's true intentions are? Is this just obsession… or something deeper?
Written by
Sabir Ali
Thanks for reading