The Treasured Tales (One-Shots)

Ill-fated Night

Ill-fated Night
A One-Shot

Genre: Thriller

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The night was young, and she still had time before her curfew. Still two hours until her warden prohibited her from entering the dorms.

But it was night, nonetheless. A cold one at that. She shouldn't have gone out. Her parents, relatives, teachers, mentors, everyone had told her about the dangers that lingered at night. If they hadn't said anything, then she would've known through the internet. And she did know, she just felt rebellious tonight.

There were rare times that compelled Farheen to be rebellious. Tonight was one of those rare times.

With hands stuffed in the fuzzy pockets of her white winter jacket that she'd worn over her beige sweater, she took a stroll in the neighborhood. Trees hung dark in the sky, concealing her view of the sky unless she side stepped from the shade. Golden streetlight shone over the empty road, her shadow following every step she took.

She didn't know that someone other than her shadow had been following her too, watching closely and using the dark as an advantage.

Farheen hummed a song, the cool breeze raking through her open, long locks and simultaneously making her shiver as the chill settled in her bones. She didn't care at that moment, too high up in her daze to turn around and walk back into the dorms and make the right choice.

One would wonder how she had survived through three years of medicine if she didn't even have the brains to not go out at night. Her parents would scold her, her mother would cry afterwards if they knew their only daughter had been out alone at night in an empty neighborhood.

She passed a house where the lights were on, faint noises of kids arguing inside reaching her ears. She smiled sadly. She'd always hoped for a sibling to brighten up her childhood.

Next, she stopped in front of a house with a gate that wasn't closed entirely. Through the crack, she could see a dog sleeping and his blue bowl set beside him. It was only half empty, maybe the dog hadn't been hungry.

With every step she took, her follower's steps matched. It was a torture staying hidden when such a beauty was in front of him. All alone. Only for him to take, taint and mar.

Farheen continued her walk, oblivious to the fact that she had company. Her mind scrolled through her playlist until she settled on another song to hum. Her silky voice almost made him reveal himself to her. Almost. But it was too early now.

She stopped in front of an empty soda can, rolling her eyes at the trash that was thrown on the road when the dustbin was five steps away. She picked up the can and took those steps, tossed the can in the bin and waited for a clink to be heard when the can hit the bottom.

She stopped humming and now only her footsteps kept the air from complete silence. For the first time that night, she heard another set of footsteps. Not hers.

Farheen's hair flew from the force with which she whipped her head around. No one. She stepped further to see if anyone was hiding behind the trees. No one there either. But she could've sworn that she had heard the footsteps.

Maybe I imagined it. She settled with that, then mentally calculated the distance to her dorm. About three kilometres.

She continued walking, and a few seconds later, the previous sounds of footsteps returned. With every step she took, he took another. With every step he took, her heart beat faster.

This was a bad, bad idea. She concluded.

Farheen stopped in her steps, contemplating what to do. Either she turns around and heads for her dorm or keeps walking. It was an easy choice, but only if turning around didn't mean walking close to the company she had.

She cursed herself for not keeping a weapon on her. Her rebellious side was quickly fading away, giving way to the goody-two-shoes she'd been all her life. This side scolded the other for coming out tonight.

She had stopped and he contemplated revealing himself. She knew him, they had been batch-mates for the past three years. But you see, he was a little screwed in the head. He loved her, so he thought and would fight anyone who said he didn't. He wanted her to love him, too. He thought it was right to follow her, they would be alone and he would confess his love to her, on his knees. She would accept and pull him up and tell him she loved him too and she would become his.

His days revolved around her. Sketching her, painting her, imagining her, romanticizing her. He wasn't a saint, far from it, and he'd been mischievous a few times, imagining how she looked underneath her clothes. He'd been bold enough a few times to draw her laying down on a bed, naked body. It was just a coincidence that the bed in all his drawings had been starkly similar to his. But it only portrayed what he wanted and that was for her to be his in every way. Even if he had to force her for it.

She chose to turn around and head back to her dorm, taking cautious and light steps. He took a step back, suddenly his courage all gone. He had brought his sketches of her along with him, certain that she would appreciate them.

Suddenly, wind flew past her as a bike stopped beside her. Her heart raced as she stepped away from the bike and the two people on it. She was convinced that her heart stopped once he pulled out a gun.

No, she couldn't die!

The biker pointed the gun at her, the barrel being an inch away from the sweaty skin of her forehead. Fear like she had never felt before coursed through her.

He stood in the shadows, frozen as he watched his love being held at gunpoint. His feet failed him, though, they didn't allow him to move when he wanted to run and save her.

"Take out everything you have and give it to me, before I shoot you." The biker threatened and Farheen's hands shook as she reached inside her jacket to pull out her phone.

She held out her phone to him. "Th-That's all I have right now. Please don't kill me." Her voice wavered and he snatched the phone from her hand, his fingers grazing hers.

Behind the tree, he fumed in anger. Another man touching the girl he loved was unacceptable.

The biker inspected her phone, pulling off the cover to find some cash. Only five hundred. Unfortunately for her, it wasn't enough for them yet he still pocketed her phone, aiming the gun at her again.

"What else do you—" her words were interrupted by the sound of a single gunshot piercing through the still, calm air.

One bullet. That was all it took to end someone's life. To ruin the lives of everyone attached to them.

The gunshot had been so sudden that she didn't even get a chance to close her eyes before she had fallen on the ground, her blood pooling underneath her. A lifeless corpse was all she was now.

The bikers didn't waste another second, driving away from the scene as soon as they had come and ended her life.

He still stood frozen behind the tree, trembling so hard that the sketches in his hands spilled out and fell by his feet. With shaky steps, he made his way to her and knelt by her side. When he leaned in, her eyes met his but not a trace of life was left in hers. Reluctantly, he ran a hand over her eyes and shut them close.

The love of his life had died in front of his eyes.

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