11|• Rival

940 128 12
                                    

Me and the devil walkingSide by side

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Me and the devil walking
Side by side...

Suddenly, the door burst open with a loud bang, and I looked up to see Mark, one of my most trusted men, hurrying in

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Suddenly, the door burst open with a loud bang, and I looked up to see Mark, one of my most trusted men, hurrying in. His face was tense, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Boss, we’ve got him. He’s here,” he said in a low voice, still catching his breath.

I nodded without a word, pushing back my chair as I stood. The weight of the moment hung in the air as I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair and motioned for him to lead the way.

As we headed towards the dungeon, the narrow hallways felt even more claustrophobic than usual. The walls seemed to close in with each step, the dim lighting casting long, eerie shadows. I could hear the distant drip of water somewhere in the depths of the building, adding to the suffocating atmosphere.

Rehaan and Varun, my other men, followed closely behind, their expressions cold and unreadable. None of us spoke, but we all knew what awaited us. The tension was thick, and the silence was only broken by the steady sound of our footsteps as we approached the cold, iron door of the dungeon.

Rehaan finally broke the silence as we neared the heavy dungeon door. "This is him, right? The most trusted man of Vedaant?" His voice was calm, but the weight of his words hung in the air.

I gave a single nod, confirming it without needing to say more. The door creaked as I pushed it open, revealing the familiar, suffocating darkness within. The smell of metallic blood immediately assaulted my senses, sharp and thick, a scent I knew all too well.

This dungeon had seen the blood of thousands—its walls steeped in the history of violence, betrayals, and confessions. And now, perhaps, one more would be added to that gruesome tally.

Inside, the dim light flickered over a metal chair in the centre of the room. Tied to it was the man we had captured, his arms bound tightly, blood crusting around the edges of his restraint.

He sat there, motionless, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, but his eyes—his eyes were anything but calm. They burned with defiance, a sharp, almost mocking look directed at me as I approached.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 || 18+Where stories live. Discover now