Flashback
Qasim slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurry, his head pounding. The walls around him were unfamiliar—grey, damp, and lifeless. Chains clinked softly as he tried to move. He was tied… locked… trapped.
For a moment, everything felt like a bad dream.
And then—
The door creaked open.
Footsteps echoed. Heavy. Confident. Cruel.
And then he saw him.
Hashim.
Not a stranger. Not a masked man. Not some unknown enemy.
Hashim.
Qasim's new friend. His once-trusted ally.
With a smug grin, Hashim stepped forward. His voice, taunting. Cold. Wicked.
"Ohh… Commander," he said mockingly, with a slow, sinister clap. "So… you've finally woken up?"
He let out a dry, twisted laugh, his eyes gleaming with madness.
"You think you're strong, don't you?" Hashim sneered. "Hah… Strong? You're nothing but a disappointment. A broken toy. A failed soldier."
Qasim's jaw tightened, but his hands were tied. His body ached. He stayed silent, watching.
Hashim stepped closer, lowering his voice like revealing a deadly secret.
"I don't know how that letter reached you," he said, his tone suddenly sharp. "But I never wanted you to read it. That letter... it held my truth. My secret. That's why I had eyes on you… every step, every move—so you couldn't read it."
He reached into his coat and pulled out an old, crumpled letter.
"But now… I'll read it for you myself," he whispered, as if enjoying every second of the torment.
He unfolded the paper, cleared his throat, and began to read aloud:
"I did exactly what you said. I followed every command. But the men you sent with me? They were weak. So weak. Some didn't even have weapons…"
Hashim paused… then smiled wider, looking right into Qasim's eyes.
"And finally he say Abdullah Sir, the mask man was saved
Qasim's eyes widened in horror. His breath caught.
Abdullah?
No… It couldn't be. But the truth echoed in Hashim's voice like a dagger tearing through skin.
In a flash of fury and thrill, Hashim punched Qasim across the face—hard.
Blood sprayed. Qasim's head snapped sideways, a deep groan escaping his lips.
"Did you enjoy that?" Hashim chuckled darkly. "I gave you a gift… A secret."
Blood dripped down Qasim's face. His body trembled. But Hashim wasn't finished.
"I could've killed you right there," he hissed. "Back where I found you. But no… this way is better."
He crouched, his voice low and venomous.
"Your blood will keep pouring… slowly. Painfully. Until you die on your own. I won't even have to dirty my hands."
He stood up again, towering over Qasim.
"And you weren't even my target," Hashim admitted, almost casually. "But you… you stepped in. So now you're mine."
He began to walk away, then paused and turned back.
"Oh—and your sister," he said, his tone suddenly sinister again. "Fatima, isn't it? I heard… you love her. Deeply."
Qasim's heart thudded at her name.
Hashim smirked wider. "I'll tell you everything I'm going to do. One by one. And the best part?" He leaned close. "You can't stop me. You're nothing. You can't save her."
Qasim Tries to hit hashim But Hashim laughs and says oh relax man.
Then came the kick—brutal, unforgiving.
Qasim flew backward, crashing hard against the wall. Pain exploded through his ribs. Still… he clenched his jaw, trying to stay conscious.
Two days passed.
Every single day, Hashim came to that room. To torture him. To talk. To brag. To break him piece by piece.
And then—on one of those days—he wasn't in the cell.
He was standing in Nayab's room.
Nayab lay unconscious, her face pale, her breathing shallow. Her beauty, untouched by her pain, still glowed. Her body was fragile, like a fallen petal.
Hashim walked in silently and placed a chair beside her bed.
He sat. Calmly. Casually.
And then, looking at her face, he whispered:
"You're so beautiful… as delicate as a flower. Your eyes… so deep, anyone could lose themselves in them. Your voice… sweet like honey. People would beg just to hear you speak…"
He leaned a little closer and smirked.
"But now… you're silent. Just lying there… still."
He brushed a finger near her blanket.
"Please… get well soon," he whispered, almost gently.
"Because I still have so much more pain to give you."
And with that… Hashim stood up and left, his laughter
echoing in the dark room behind him.
Hashim comes to Fatima's house. He stands at the door and knocks firmly. Fatima, hearing the unexpected knock, walks over and opens the door — and finds Hashim standing right in front of her.
She looks at him, confused and slightly alarmed. Her brows furrow as she says,
"Who... who are you?"
Hashim doesn't reply. Instead, a slow, twisted smile stretches across his face — an evil smile. Without uttering a single word, he begins to walk forward, stepping into the house as though he owns the place.
Fatima immediately steps in front of him, blocking his way, her voice rising in shock and anger.
"What is this misbehavior?! Who do you think you are?!"
Just then, her father appears from another room. He sees the stranger and frowns, asking sharply,
"Who are you, and how did you come inside?"
Hashim lets out a low chuckle, as if amused by the question.
"Just like everyone else enters through the door," he says casually, as though mocking them. "That's how I came in too."
Her father glares at him, not amused.
"I meant — who are you?"
Hashim turns his head slowly and looks directly at the old man. His voice drops, dark and menacing.
"If I tell you the truth..." he pauses, eyes narrowing, "...I came here to kill you."
The room falls silent.
He smirks again.
"But then I saw... you're an old man. Weak. Fragile. So today, I'll spare you. I'll leave everyone for now."
Fatima's father clenches his fists, furious and ready to fight, but before he can take a step forward, Qasim's mother rushes in. She grabs his arm tightly, holding him back.
"Please... we don't know who he is. Don't lose your temper," she says, her voice shaking with fear and uncertainty.
Hashim turns his attention back to Fatima. His gaze lingers on her face. His expression shifts — a wicked mixture of admiration and cruelty.
"You know..." he says, stepping closer, "You're very beautiful."
He pauses, then adds coldly,
"I don't want to ruin that face... not yet. I'm giving you a chance. Just one. Don't come near the palace again. This time, it's just a warning. Next time... I'll show you what I really mean."
He moves even closer now, invading her personal space, and leans in. His voice drops to a whisper, his breath grazing her ear.
"And want to know a secret?"
He smirks again.
"I've started to like you."
Fatima's eyes burn with rage. She lifts her hand to slap him, but before her palm can connect, Hashim catches her wrist mid-air.
"You're just like your brother... always ready to fight," he sneers.
Then, in a twisted act of arrogance, he leans forward and plants a kiss on her forehead.
That's the last straw.
In a flash, Fatima grabs his arm with full strength and throws him hard to the ground. Hashim falls with a thud.
"Don't you dare touch me again!" she shouts, her voice like thunder. "If you ever lay a hand on me, I'll break that hand myself!"
Hashim sits on the floor, stunned for a moment — then laughs darkly.
"Beautiful and fiery," he mutters. "What a combination."
But before he can say more, Fatima storms up to him, grabs his collar, and forcefully pushes him out the door. He stumbles backward and crashes onto the ground outside.
He stays there, lying on the dirt, but his eyes stay fixed on Fatima. Slowly, he touches his lips — there's blood.
A smirk appears again as he whispers to himself,
"Ohhh... she is so perfect."
He looks back at the closed door, his expression turning darker, more sinister.
"I'll take my revenge for this... from Qasim."
With a devilish grin, he begins to laugh — low, cruel, and full of evil intent.
Question for readers:
What kind of villain do you think Hashim truly is — a calculated monster or a chaotic force driven by personal grudges?
And do you believe he was being honest about his feelings toward Fatima…
Or was it just another twisted part of his evil game?
Let me know your thoughts in the comments
Written by
Sabir Ali
Thanks For reading