Chapter 27: 23. 𝗛𝗮𝗶𝘄𝗮𝗮𝗻..

❛Dil diya, wahshat liya aur khud ko ruswa kar liya..

Mukhtasar si zindagi mein, maine kya kya kar liya. ❜

Third Person's POV:

The crisp winter morning greeted Mahoor with a chilling wind that cut through her as she ran, her breath visible in quick, shallow puffs. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, each heartbeat a reminder of the chaos left behind. It was nearing 11 a.m., yet the streets were quiet, the silence broken only by the faint rustling of leaves and the distant sounds of the dog's barking.

They had escaped the police station, hearts heavy with betrayal when the authorities sided with the man who had taken them. Now, they were desperate to disappear before he tracked them down again.

Mahoor glanced over her shoulder, to see if anyone was following them but there was none. The memory of the blade sinking into Altan's shoulder, his face contorted in pain, blood staining his shirt where the knife had struck flashed through her mind—a split-second decision born of fear and desperation.

She hated herself for it. Mahoor had always prided herself in her morals and ethical beliefs, her firm stance against violence in any form. Yet, when Altan had cornered her in that cabin, his voice raised in anger and his hands clenched into fists, she had felt a primal instinct take over. It was self-defense, she told herself, a necessary act to escape his grasp, to run away to save herself and her sister.

“Tum apne baap ka khoon ho na, tum bhi uski tarah logo ka khoon bahaogi!” her mother's voice echoed in her ears, which had her closing her eyes at the pain.

She was anything but like her father. However, in the end she was his daughter.

“Mahoor.. kya hua??” out of breath, Seyran asked. Mahoor shook her head “Kuch nahi,” trying not to let those thoughts consume her.

Nonetheless, tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the world around her. She had never wanted this. She had never wanted to hurt anyone, not even Altan.

The cool air brushed against her flushed cheeks, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within. Mahoor wiped her tears with the back of her hand, she was haunted by the consequences of her actions.

She didn't know where they were going or what would happen next, but one thing was certain—they couldn't stay here. Not while the weight of her actions threatened to suffocate her, not while the morning sun offered no warmth to ease the chill in her soul, not while her mother's voices reverberate again and again in her head.

Their footsteps pounded against the pavement until the sudden roar of engines drowned out their panic.

Mahoor's heart lurched and their steps came to a halt as a convoy of ten to fifteen black cars surrounded them with military precision, trapping them in a nightmarish circle. Each vehicle gleamed like predators in the cold light, their engines growling like beasts ready to pounce.

Fear gripped Mahoor's chest and Seyran clung to her, realizing they were trapped.

From the central car emerged Altan himself, his presence commanding and his expression twisted with fury. His shoulder still bore the fresh wound where Mahoor had managed to stab him during their earlier confrontation. As he stepped out, his movements were deliberate, exuding an air of posh arrogance and intimidation that matched his reputation.

Mahoor's heart sank as she watched Altan approach, his guards forming a tight circle around them, blocking any chance of escape. She felt her sister's trembling hand clutch hers, their eyes wide with fear and desperation.

Altan's voice sliced through the tense silence like a knife. “Tumhe lagta hai tum mujhse bhaag sakti ho?” His tone was laced with venom, his anger palpable. “Woh mumkin hua, kyon ki maine tumhe mauka diya, varna tum khud bhaagne ke kabil nahi.”

Mahoor's body tensed, her chest heaving with each rapid breath. She knew they were trapped, outnumbered and surrounded by armed men. Her gaze flickered from Altan to the guards, their guns gleaming ominously in the weak morning light.

Fear etched lines of tension across Mahoor's face as she tried to muster courage. She felt a surge of defiance, a flicker of hope that maybe they could still find a way out. But as Altan's guards tightened their circle, she knew the odds were against them.

Her body language betrayed her mounting panic—her shoulders hunched, hands clenched into fists at her sides. She cast desperate glances around, searching for any avenue of escape, but there was none.

“Please,” Mahoor whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of their impending capture. “Jane dein, humein.”

But Altan's gaze remained cold and unforgiving. He stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking with each deliberate stride.

Mahoor stepped back and squeezed Seyran's hand tighter, tears welling in her eyes as they faced the grim reality of their situation.

Altan stood a few meters away, his presence commanding and tinged with wrath. “Joh tumne ye harkat ki hai na,” he pointed a finger to his injured shoulder, “uske baad se tum mere sabr ka imtihaan na hi lo toh behtar!” his voice cut through the bitter morning air like a blade. "Get in the damn car, now!"

Mahoor froze, her breath catching in her throat. Seyran clutched her arm, trembling with fear.

Mahoor's instincts screamed at her to resist. She planted her feet, throwing her hands in protest, refusing to cooperate. “No!” she shouted, her voice cracking with defiance. “Main nahi aaungi aap ke saath!”

Altan's expression hardened as he raised his hand. His fingers began to flicker in the air, almost as if tracing an invisible pattern. Mahoor felt a strange sensation wash over her, a mix of fear and confusion that made her legs feel like jelly.

Before she could react, the doors of the two cars flew open, and four women with stoic expressions jumped out. They moved with practiced efficiency, grabbing Mahoor and Seyran by the arms and pulling them towards the vehicle.

Mahoor fought back, her instincts screaming at her to break free but their grip was ironclad. She kicked and thrashed, her cries for help lost in the air.

She thrashed against their grip, kicking and twisting in a futile attempt to break free, “Chodo humein!” Tears streamed down her cheeks, a mixture of immense fear and frustration at her own helplessness.

The women finally managed to shove Mahoor and Seyran into the back seat of the car and each sat at the door, keeping the sisters in between.

Altan sat in the front seat and Arya ignited the engine. But Altan remained stiff, his mind racing with rage and frustration.

The convoy sped away, leaving behind the bitter cold and the shattered remnants of Mahoor defiance.

Inside the car, Altan's anger burned hotly. He stared out the window, his jaw clenched and fists tight with frustration. He, for once didn't peer back in the rear view mirror to get a sight of Mahoor because one look at her, he knew his anger would vanish and now all he needed was his rage to keep his head straight and Mahoor's actions under check.

Mahoor knew this wasn't over, and neither was the danger they faced. Her eyes blurred with water as the kothi came in her sight.

The air was thick with tension as Mahoor was forcibly escorted by two imposing women through the grand entrance of the sprawling Haveli. Seyran was being pulled away by another pair of bodyguards, heading in a different direction of the staircase.

She shook her head hysterically, “Please, please, don't take my sister away from me! Please!!”

Mahoor struggled against the iron grip of the women, her eyes locked desperately on Seyran, who shrieked with tear-streaked cheeks.

“Kaha le jaa rahe hai, humein! Chodein!!”

Mahoor's heart wrenches at the sight of her sister in distress. With a surge of adrenaline, she manages to twist free from the women's hold, surprising them with her strength. Ignoring their protests, Mahoor raced towards Seyran, who rushed into her arms, clinging to her like a lifeline.

The women moved to intervene, but Altan showed his palm and dismissed them, as now he'd take the lead.

Mahoor shielded Seyran, holding her close as if shielding her from the world's cruelty. Tears streamed down Mahoor's face as she felt Seyran shivering against her body, whispering reassurances in a trembling voice.

“Nothing can happen se..separate us.. kuch nahi hoga, we have gotten each other.”

Seyran clutched Mahoor's hoodie, burying her face against her sister's shoulder, overcome with relief and fear, after having her sister in her arms.

When they were being taken into separate directions, her mind clouded with horrendous thoughts. It felt like they were being parted forever.

The tension in the air was palpable as Arya exchanged an uncertain glance at Altan, unsure of how to proceed.

Altan marched towards them and Arya followed him. Seeing Arya behind Seyran, Mahoor's hold tightened on her but she froze when she felt two heavy hands on her shoulder .

“Acche se keh raha hu, chod do usey aur chup chap bina koi harkat kiye, saath chalo.” his voice dangerously low and the hair on Mahoor's neck stood up, her eyes widened.

“Na..nahi.. please.”

Altan released an exasperated sigh as the constant defiant behavior of hers was getting on his nerves now.

“Mirza.. please.. na ka..karein ai..aisa..”  she pleaded to him whilst tightening her hold on Seyran, afraid of letting her go. They didn't know what would take place, they didn't even know what was awaiting them.

The strings of his heart pulled when she called his name and practically pleaded but there was no way his rage was letting him give in.

Bypassing her begging, Altan hardened his grasp on her and in a swift moment he hauled Mahoor away from Seyran. Mahoor's heart pounded in her chest as she fought against the strong grip that pulled her sister further and further away.

“Mahoor!” Seyran cried out, her voice raw with fear and anguish, “Hold on!” As their hands were intertwined, she screamed as Arya pulled her back.

Tears blurred Mahoor's vision as she struggled against the force that threatened to tear them apart. She could feel their hands slipping, their grip weakening with every inch of distance that grew between them.

“Please!” Mahoor pleaded, her voice breaking as she reached out, fingers straining to maintain their hold. “Don't take her away from me!”

But the men were relentless, their faces stoic as they continued to separate the sisters. Seyran's fingers slipped from hers, the connection breaking with a painful finality that echoed in the depths of Mahoor's soul.

“NO!!” Mahoor screamed, her anguish echoing through the walls of the haveli. She thrashed against the hands that held her, her entire being consumed by the agony of losing her sister.

As Arya took Seyran away, disappearing from Mahoor's vision, Altan held Mahoor's forearm and very effortlessly dragged her to the staircase. His grip was taut enough for not to hurt her but also strong enough for her to not unclasp it.

Mahoor's screams echoed through the grand halls of the haveli as Altan dragged her up the winding staircase. The sound of their struggle reverberates off the high ceilings. Altan's grip on her wrist was ironclad, despite the blood seeping from the wound she had inflicted on his shoulder.

“Haath chodein, mera. Please Seyran ko kuch mat karein!!” Mahoor wailed, her voice cracking with desperation. She thrashed against his hold, trying to break free, but Altan's strength and determination were unwavering. His face was a mask of fury, his jaw clenched as he hauled her higher up the stairs.

Each step was a battle, Mahoor's feet scrambling for purchase as she fought against him. Her please fell on deaf ears, her cries of “Please,” met only with his resolute silence. The pain in his shoulder was evident, blood staining his shirt and dripping onto the stone steps, but he didn't falter.

They reached the top of the staircase, and Altan pushed open a heavy wooden door with his good arm, delicately shoving Mahoor inside. The room was pitch dark, the air thick with mustiness and fear. Mahoor's vision blinded, her eyes widened with terror as she tried to find her bearings.

“Main yeh kabhi nahi karna chahta tha, par tumne mujhe majboor kar diya hai,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with pain. He slammed the door shut, the sound reverberating through the haveli. He leaned against the door for a moment, breathing heavily, his vision blurring as he struggled to stay upright.

Mahoor banged on the door from the inside, her fists pounding against the wood. “Mirza, please! Mujhe please bahar nikale!” Her voice was a mix of cry and desperation, each word a plea for freedom.

Altan's breathing grew more labored, the blood loss taking its toll. He slid down to the floor leaning his head back against the door. His vision swam, the edges darkening as he fought to remain conscious. The pain in his shoulder was a sharp reminder of Mahoor's defiance, a brutal attack that left him weakened but not broken.

•♡•

Seyran's footsteps echoed against the cold stone walls as Arya led her down to the basement of the haveli. His grip on her arm was surprisingly gentle, his demeanor calm and composed. The dim light from the overhead bulbs cast long shadows, creating an eerie atmosphere that made her heart pound with fear.

“Seyran, please understand,” Arya said softly, his voice almost soothing. “I don't want to hurt you. Bas jaisa mai kahu vaisa suno.” He paused, a dark glint in his eyes. “Aur ye nahi sochna ki mai bhool gaya hu jo tumne mujhe pe haath pair chalaye the, agar tum dhang se paish nahi aaogi toh mai apna badla lunga tumse.”

Seyran's eyes darted around, searching for an escape but finding none. She was terrified, not just for herself but for her sister, Mahoor. “Mahoor kidhar hai?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Arya sighed, a look of annoyance and regret crossing his face. “I'm not sure. Altan ne usey koi kamre mein lock kiya hoga.”

Seyran's blood ran cold. The thought of Mahoor being locked away triggered a wave of panic. “No,” she whispered, her voice rising in desperation. “You can't lock her in a room. She has asthma! The closed room will trigger the disease and it will only bring back the traumatic events of her life... she can't handle the dark!”

Arya frowned, his grip on her arm tightening slightly. “Kya matlab hai tumhara?”

Seyran took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. “Since her birth, Mahoor has had asthma! She'd panic and struggle to breathe. The darkness haunts her. She relives some very dreadful moments every time she's in the dark. Please, Mahoor ko waha se bahar nikale!”

Arya's eyes widened in shock. He clearly hadn’t expected this revelation. Before he could respond, a new voice pierced the tense silence.

“Kya?” Altan's voice was sharp, filled with dread and concern, as he appeared from the shadows.

Altan's expression shifted from shock to determination. Without another word, he spun on his heel and rushed back up the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the dim corridor.

•♡•

Mahoor banged on the door, her fists pounding against the wood with desperation. “Koi darwaza kholo, yaha light bhi na..nahi hai! Mir.. Mirza, mujhe darr lag raha hai!” she cried, her voice cracking with fear. Her constant knocks and pleas for help echoed in the darkness, but no one came to save her. The silence was deafening, the darkness suffocating.

The memories came rushing back, unbidden and relentless. She was a little girl again, trapped in that tiny, suffocating room because she hadn't finished her chores. Imran, her uncle's harsh voice echoed in her mind: “Kuch waqt andhere mein rahegi toh tu apna sabaq sikh legi.” She had cried then, just as she was crying now, the fear of the dark mingling with the fear of punishment.

Her breathing quickened, the room closing in on her. She sank to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, trying to ground herself, but the past continued to flood her senses.

She saw her mother, Aina, again, being beaten by her father, Sinan. The memory was vivid, every detail etched into her mind.

Sinan's rage was a storm, his fists relentless as he beat Aina. Blood trickled from her mother's wounds, staining the floor.

“Pappa, nahi!” Mahoor had cried out, but her father didn't hear, or maybe he didn't care. He had grabbed Aina by the hair, dragging her across the room. Mahoor watched, helpless, as he lifted a knife, pressing it against her mother's hand.

“No, please!” Aina screamed, her voice raw with pain. Sinan pushed the blade down, but stopped just short of stabbing her. The point of the knife dug into her skin, blood seeping out, mixing with the already existing wounds.

Mahoor had run to her mother after Sinan left, her small hands trying to comfort Aina. “Maa, sab thik ho jayega.” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “Allah ji, sab thik kar denge.”

But Aina had pushed her away, her eyes cold and filled with a mixture of pain and anger. “Tum bhi toh apne baap ka khoon ho, ek haiwaan ki aulad, tum bhi uski tarah logo ka khoon bahaogi,” spat. “Ek haiwaan apne baap ki tarah.”

Those words had cut deeper than any knife. They had haunted Mahoor, a constant reminder of the darkness she feared might be inside her. Now, in the pitch-black room, those words echoed louder than ever, reverberating off the walls and suffocating her.

“Ek haiwaan apne baap ki tarah.”

That's what she didn't want to believe but she indeed became a haiwaan after jabbing that knife in Altan's shoulder. She didn't want any fragments of her father in her, but..

Her breathing became ragged, her chest tightening with the onset of an asthma attack. There was no use for fumbling for the inhaler as she didn't carry it with her. Panic surged through her as she tried to draw breath, each attempt more futile than the last.

“Ya Allah,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Madad karein meri.”

The worry of something happening to Seyran was eating her alive. Her senses were shutting down and her mind swamped with another memory.

Mahoor’s heart raced as she tried the door handle again, but it wouldn't budge. The washroom was completely dark, the lights flickered off minutes ago, leaving her in pitch black. Panic set in as she realized she didn’t have her phone. She banged on the door, shouting for help, but the silence of the deserted college echoed back at her.

“Help! Someone, please!” Her voice trembled, growing hoarse with desperation. The darkness pressed in on her, suffocating, familiar fear clawing at her insides. She sank to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, trying to control her breathing. Memories of being locked in dark rooms flooded her mind, making her panic even more.

Fifteen minutes felt like an eternity. Mahoor’s breathing was ragged, her body shaking with anxiety. Just as she felt on the verge of breaking down, she heard faint voices and footsteps approaching.

“Mahoor?” Robin's voice called out, laced with concern.

“Robin! I'M HERE!” she cried out, her voice breaking with relief.

Ayan's voice joined in, “Hang on, we're getting you out!”

Moments later, the door swung open, and light from the hallway spilled into the washroom. Robin and Ayan stood there, their faces filled with worry. Mahoor stumbled out, tears streaming down her face as she collapsed into Robin's arms.

“It's okay, sweet heart. Tujhe kuch nahi hoga abhi.” Robin soothed, holding her tightly. Mahoor sobbed into her friend's shoulder, the fear and relief mingling into a torrent of emotions.

Ayan rubbed her back gently, his voice soft. “We were worried when we couldn't find you. The whole college had left, and you were the only one missing.”

Mahoor clung to Robin, her sobs gradually subsiding as her friends' comforting presence calmed her. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I was so scared.”

As they walked out of the building, Mahoor overheard some students talking about the electricity being intentionally cut off. Curiosity piqued, they approached the group.

“Do you know who did it?” Ayan asked.

One of the students nodded. “I heard it was Adhira. She was seen near the main switch just before the lights went out.”

Mahoor’s eyes widened in realization. Adhira, her college rival, had always harbored a deep animosity towards her. Knowing Mahoor's fear of the dark, she must have deliberately orchestrated the entire situation.

Her vision blurred as she struggled to stay conscious, the darkness closing in. She could almost feel her uncle's presence, but it was only a cruel illusion. The echoes of her mother's accusations grew louder, drowning out everything else.

“Robin?” she murmured, her voice faint. “Ayan, Help me.”

Her strength failed, and she collapsed to the floor, her body shaking with the effort to breathe. Her last thought was a desperate plea for relief, a silent cry for a savior who would never come. As her consciousness slipped away, the darkness swallowed her whole.

The door finally opened, creaking on its hinges as Altan pushed it wide, his heart pounding in his chest. A fresh bandage was wrapped around his shoulder, a stark reminder of Mahoor's desperate act of defiance. As the light from the hallway spilled into the room, illuminating the darkness, his breath caught in his throat.

There, on the cold, hard floor, lay Mahoor, her body still and lifeless. For a terrifying moment, it seemed as though she had been lost to him forever. The sight of her pale face, her eyes closed, and her chest unmoving sent a wave of panic crashing over him.

“Mahoor!” Altan's voice broke through the silence, a mixture of desperation and fear. Thunder roared outside, the sky mirroring the turmoil within him. He rushed to her side, after a decade or two his hands trembled as he gently lifted her into his arms.

“Mahoor, utho.” he patted her cheeks and whispered urgently.

He could feel her faint pulse beneath his fingers, a small flicker of hope amidst the dread. Her skin was cold, her breathing shallow. Altan's mind raced, the realization of what he had done hitting him with full force. He had locked her in the darkness, unaware of the horrors it would awaken within her.

The storm outside intensified, lightning flashing through the windows as if nature itself was responding to his anguish. He cradled Mahoor closer, his heart aching with regret and fear.

For the first time in his life, he had fallen for someone, and the thought of losing her was unbearable. His chest tightened with a pain deeper than any physical wound, a raw, aching void that threatened to consume him.

After Altan had lost her, he could not even imagine losing Mahoor.

"Hoor, aakhein kholo apni..” he pleaded, his voice a choked whisper.

Her eyelids fluttered slightly, a weak sign of life that sent a surge of relief through him. But the fear of losing her, the fear that she might never wake up, gnawed at him. Every second felt like an eternity, his mind filled with the terrifying possibility of a life without her.

He had to get her out of there, to safety, before it was too late. Gently, but with urgency, he lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the room, his determination fueled by the need to make amends for his mistake.

The storm continued to rage, the thunder a constant, deafening reminder of the chaos both outside and within. He held Mahoor close, vowing to never let her suffer again.

He couldn't imagine a life without her, and the fear of losing her drove him forward, fueled by a feeling he had never known before.

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•

PANT CHORRR!! Mere dimag ka bharosa aaj tak koi chapter ne nahi kiya jitna yeh chapter ne mere dimag ke bhendi, pakode laga diye!!