Chapter 1 Endurance
He was standing there, just a few feet away.
His brown eyes locked onto the black ones, calm and unreadable.
His breath caught in his throat. His black eyes widened as recognition flooded him like a wave shock, disbelief, and then... pure devastation.
"How are you?" The man with the brown eyes asked softly.
*Not alive. Not dead,* The one with the black eyes thought. But no words came out.
The brown-eyed man gave a faint smile.
"Are you satisfied?" he asked, almost playfully, like he already knew the answer.
The black eyes looked into the brown ones, empty and unreadable and then shut themselves, overwhelmed by pain.
Satisfied?
His heart clenched painfully. Is he satisfied? Is that all he wanted? Yeah... He should be satisfied. Then why he is not happy? Why everything seems to be so wrong? Why is he anxious and depressed?
The black-eyed man looked at the other, trying to say something but words are caught in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, to explain, to beg, to stop him but the words were buried too deep.
All he could do was stare.
He tried to move and hold the hands of the brown-eyed man but it looked like that the ground had caught his feet. He looked at his face longingly.
That face.
That was the face he never wanted to pass from his sight ever. So beautiful. So gentle. So unforgettable. So far gone.
The brown-eyed man's smile became wider. He turned and walked toward the edge of the cliff, hands casually in his pockets.
Panic surged in the other man's chest. He again tried to stop him but couldn't do anything. His body is completely paralyzed. He couldn't move. He wanted to shout, to stop him but there were no words that utter from his mouth.
They were at the hills outside the city. These hills and the area around are very popular among bikers or car racers. But this area had been banned since past three years and had been abandoned by the racers.
People came here sometimes to admire the view, sometimes couples came here to enjoy the moment alone and sometimes families also came here for picnic. Still it is as desolated as three years back.
The brown-eyed man reached the edge, turned slightly to look back at him. His eyes were soft. Almost forgiving.
A terrible intuition came over.
The other man again struggled to move.
*No. Not again. Please.*
And then, without a word, the brown-eyed man stepped off.
"Nooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!". His voice finally broke free and shouted in a shrill voice but it's too late.
He ran after him, instinct taking over, feet pounding the rocky ground, until everything disappeared beneath him too.
And he fell.
He woke up with a jolt, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. His black eyes were widened with horror.
That dream again.
The same nightmare that haunted him over and over, refusing to let go.
He sighed, exhausted, not just from sleep, but from memory.
Maybe this was his fate now.
To be haunted forever.
It was stark dark night.
She was walking alone on the footpath, her steps light but hurried.
Tonight had been her first time working this late at the restaurant.
It's midnight. All the roads were mostly empty, just the occasional pair of headlights from a passing car or a lonely motorcycle. She sighed and walked on.
There would be no buses at this hour, and the idea of hailing a taxi made her uneasy.
The streetlights were on, but they did little to chase away the loneliness.
Her home wasn't far, a twenty-minute walk, maybe less if she rushed. So she picked up her pace, trying to shake off the unease settling in her chest.
Then came the voice.
"Hey girl! Wanna ride!"
She flinched. The shout had come from the side of the road. She looked up and froze.
A group of bikers were circling nearby. Black jackets, dark helmets, the kind of swagger that spelled trouble. They looked like punks out for late-night fun and she knew exactly what kind of fun they had in mind.
She lowered her head down and kept walking. The bikers smirked on her reaction.
Laughter erupted behind her.
"Hey! We're good guys, really!"
One of them called out, revving his bike as he rode beside her.
"We can give you a ride and may be you treat us to coffee. I bet you make great coffee. Hahahaa..."
One, riding beside her never wanted to miss this chance.
The others howled with laughter, their engines growling like animals circling prey.
She kept her head down, heart pounding now. One of the bikers suddenly cut her off, stopping his bike right in front of her. She stopped cold and shocked, turned, and realized the others had surrounded her in a loose circle.
The street was deserted.
No help.
No escape.
Just them, laughing, circling, waiting.
She sighed quietly and reached for the strap of her hand bag. With a sudden twist, she began to spin the bag over her head.
Without hesitation, before those punks could think of anything, she slammed it into one of them viciously.
The blow was hard and unforeseen. They never expected that the frail and petrified looking little girl could do such a violent thing.
The biker staggered, crashing into another, who stumbled into the third. Like dominoes, they collapsed, all except one, who had stayed slightly behind.
"You little bitch". He hissed, gritting his teeth and lunging towards her.
She swung again and tried to hit him. But this time the guy grabbed the bag. They struggled, pulling, twisting, until she let go on purpose. The biker, caught off guard, lost his balance and crashed to the ground along with his bike.
The others were already recovering, shouting now, angrier than before. She ducked, snatched her bag and squeezed between them. On the way out, she kicked one in the knee, sending him tumbling into his other friends.
She started to run.
The guys regained their composure and started to chase her. But in their rage, none of them saw the wire stretched across the road.
One after another, their bikes struck it, they flew, they crashed, they screamed and dragged with their bikes across the asphalt like rag dogs.
Before they could understand anything, a splash of mud hit them from nowhere.
They shielded their heads, as they were wearing helmets over, shouting in confusion.
Confused, shocked, bewildered.
They put off their helmets quickly and looked around but couldn't catch a single sight.
Before they could recover, a storm of eggs and rotten fruit rained down on them.
Dozens of hands.
Dozens of laughs.
A faceless crowd had appeared from nowhere, pelting them, mocking them, taunting them.
The bikers couldn't move. They sat in the mud, bruised and humiliated, trying to shield themselves.
And just like that, the crowd vanished.
As quickly and silently as they had come.
The bikers panted, stunned.
What the hell had just happened?
Author's Notes:
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