After Life: Embracing the Depth of Darkness

What? Will she heal like us?

"Are you alright?" I heard Dev's voice from behind me. 

I turned around and instinctively took a step back. Although he had wiped his hands, traces of blood remained, staining them. 

 "What are you doing? This is not right," I exclaimed.

 In an angry tone, Dev retorted, "What do you want me to do? Offer him candy and politely inquire about his motives?" 

 I was taken aback by his response. "What is happening to you? This isn't like you," I asked, bewildered. 

 Frowning, Dev replied, "Like me? This is who I am. I'm not human. This is my damn job!" 

 His sudden outburst made me flinch. In a rush, he stormed back into the room. Curiosity and concern compelled me to follow him and see what he was about to do. He forcefully kicked the chair, causing Dheeran to collide with the wall and collapse onto the floor. The chair shattered upon impact. Dheeran lay on the ground, gasping for air. Astonishingly, his neck began to regenerate and heal. Slowly, new skin started to form. 

"Stop!" I shouted, trying to break the escalating violence. 

Dev turned towards me, and I stared at him, unyielding. He approached me, but I halted his advance by placing my right hand firmly on his chest. 

 "Dheeran is smarter than you. He easily deceived you without shedding a drop of blood. Yet here you are, unable to extract a single word from him. Use your brain, not your strength," I asserted. 

 His jaw clenched in response. In that moment, I heard the sound of chains clanking. I shifted my gaze behind Dev and saw Dheeran standing there. Without warning, he sprinted towards us.

 Swiftly, I maneuvered Dev to the side, shielding him from Dheeran's attack. As Dheeran approached, I noticed the sword gripped tightly in his hand. With my left hand, I intercepted the blade, causing blood to trickle from my palm. 

Dev, realizing the danger, grabbed hold of Dheeran's hand, attempting to pry the weapon away. However, with his free hand, Dheeran managed to thrust something into my abdomen. A searing pain shot through me. 

As Dev forcefully pushed Dheeran aside, I shifted my focus to my lower right abdomen, where a small knife was lodged. I understood that the wound would eventually heal, but the pain was intense.

 Carefully, I lowered myself to my knees, being cautious not to exert pressure on my abdomen. Meanwhile, Dev securely bound Dheeran with the chain and pressed him against the wall. I noticed the red stain spreading on my mustard t-shirt, a stark reminder of the injury. 

Panic started to rise within me as I realized I had involuntarily ceased breathing. With great effort, I attempted to take shallow breaths, being mindful not to disturb my injured abdomen. 

Dev knelt before me and reassured, "It's okay. Take a deep breath. I'll remove the knife on the count of three." His eyes locked with mine as he prepared to act. I nodded and managed to take a shallow breath, bracing myself for the impending pain. Gently, Dev guided me to lean against the wall for support. 

"Ready? One," he began the countdown. 

 "Two," he continued, and we exchanged nods. With a swift motion, he removed the knife from my wound while applying pressure with his left hand. His gaze shifted to the small knife he held in his hand. In an outburst, Dev exclaimed, "This is a Pishacha killing knife!" directed at Dheeran. 

 Dheeran calmly responded, "I am well aware." 

 Overwhelmed with fear, I asked in a trembling voice, "Will it kill me?"