The prisoners strike from behind.

  Clive feels the first blow slam into his back. Pain rockets through him, sharp and searing.

  Another follows, then another, each hit a hammer against his body. He grits his teeth, but his strength falters.

  He releases the prisoners he had grabbed, stumbling forward, clutching his side. Pain radiates through his muscles, through his bones.

  The world narrows. Each breath is heavy, ragged, like he’s inhaling shards of glass.

  From the front, a fist collides with his head.

  His jaw vibrates from the impact, teeth clashing. Dizziness spins the floor beneath him.

  Before he can recover, another blow strikes from the opposite side. His face snaps to the side, muscles shaking. Vision blurs.

  Clive collapses to the ground, landing hard on the cold concrete. He folds into himself, sitting there, chest heaving, sweat mixing with blood and dust.

  He’s battered. Broken. His arms tremble. His legs feel like lead.

  For the first time, he realizes: he isn’t in a condition to fight.

  CHAPTER - 11, PART - 2

  A bullet tears through the air, shrieking like a predator.

  It slams into the closest prisoner’s forehead. Black blood explodes outward, scorching the concrete.

  He drops instantly, twitching, lifeless. Silence screams.

  Clive spins. Heart hammering, chest tightening, mind racing. The room narrows around him.

  The remaining prisoners freeze. Fear grips them like iron chains. Every inhale is a razor slicing through their lungs.

  Across the room, Zoon stands—still, calm, impossible. The assault rifle rests in his hands, deadly, gleaming under the flickering light. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t blink. He simply waits.

  Clive’s mind screams: Who… who is this man?

  A desperate prisoner lunges from the left, reckless.

  "Your mother—" Zoon fires. Mid-step, the man explodes into the floor, his body folding grotesquely. Silence collapses around them like a tomb.

  Clive staggers, frozen between disbelief and terror.

  "Who the hell are you?" he shouts.

  Zoon smirks, sharp, predatory. "I’m a bastard. A bastard."

  Clive’s stomach twists. "What…?"

  Another prisoner swings at Zoon’s face. In an instant, Zoon catches his wrist mid-air. "Son of a bitch, back off!" he growls. Calm. Merciless.

  Zoon’s eyes sweep the room, slow, precise.

  Every prisoner feels the weight of them pressing down, crushing, suffocating.

  Then he raises the rifle.

  Bullets erupt.

  Non-stop. Unrelenting. Perfect.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  The room becomes a storm. Screams explode. Ricochets scream. Dust, smoke, blood, and fire fill the air. Limbs crumple.

  Bodies hit the ground with brutal finality.

  Clive slams to the floor, chest heaving, ears ringing, eyes locked on Zoon’s calm, merciless figure.

  "Get down!" Zoon’s voice slices through the chaos like a blade.

  Clive drops, pressed against cold concrete, trembling, helpless.

  But Zoon doesn’t stop. Trigger after trigger. Shot after shot. Every bullet strikes with surgical finality.

  The room is consumed by chaos, blood, and the screaming echo of violence.

  After a while,

  Zoon perches on the beam like he owns the place, legs stretched lazily, rifle balanced across his lap.

  Clive leans against the wall for support, chest hammering, eyes scanning the blood-soaked second floor. Prisoners’ corpses glint under the dim light, rivers of red spreading across the concrete.

  He hesitates, stomach twisting, unable to fully take it in.

  Zoon, meanwhile, tilts his head, black sunglasses catching the faint light. He spreads his legs, holds the gun casually, and grins at Clive—half amusement, half menace.

  "Want a cigarette?" he asks, voice calm, smiling as if the carnage behind him is just background decoration.

  Clive swallows hard. "No… I don’t smoke."

  Zoon chuckles softly, a dark, low sound that doesn’t reach mirth—more like a predator amused by its prey.

  "Okay," he says, still smiling.

  Clive stares at Zoon.

  Zoon is still smiling, that same unnerving, predatory grin.

  "Can you help me?" Clive asks, voice tight.

  Zoon’s smile doesn’t falter. "No," he says—and laughs softly, low and dark.

  Clive glares, frustration building. "It’s not funny. I’m here because I want your help.

  See, it took me a whole month just to get here… just to come to India. And I came here only to meet you, to bring you with me."

  Zoon chuckles, tilting his head. "Where exactly are you planning to take me, kid?" he says, laughing.

  "You are coming with me," Clive insists, voice firm.

  "No," Zoon says, still smiling.

  Then, standing, Zoon brushes off his clothes, looking casual, almost playful. "Anyway, since you’ve come all this way, I might as well feed you something."

  Clive shakes his head. "No, I’m not hungry. I don’t want to eat."

  Zoon’s grin widens, dark humor in his eyes. "I’m hungry, kid. Let’s go."

  Clive hesitates. "But… where?" He rises to his feet, brushing off his clothes, tension coiling in every muscle.

  "Come on, kid," Zoon replies, still smiling, voice low and teasing.

  Clive swallows hard, unsure—but he follows. Every step he takes feels heavy, weighed by the chaos that surrounds them.

  On the first floor, Zoon walks ahead, calm as always, almost untouchable in his confidence. Clive follows, looking around normally, taking in the place without panic.

  Suddenly, a thud echoes—a heavy, dull sound, like something falling.

  Both freeze. Zoon tilts his head toward Clive, expression unreadable behind his black sunglasses.

  Clive narrows his eyes. “Can you hear that?”

  Zoon smirks, voice calm and teasing. "Kid… I’m looking because I heard it."

  Another sound comes, sharper this time. Both stop, listening intently. It’s coming from a room up ahead.

  “You hear it?” Clive asks, voice low, cautious.

  “Yeah, I hear it! And don’t act like you can’t see it, kid… I’m seeing the same thing too,” Zoon replies, still smirking, dark humor lacing his words.

  Clive says nothing. He starts moving toward the room, cautious but curious.

  Zoon follows behind, slow and deliberate, like the sound itself is entertaining him.

  The air grows heavier with each step. Shadows stretch along the walls, twisting unnaturally in the dim light. Every movement, every creak, heightens the tension.

  Clive steps inside.

  Zoon follows closely behind, silent, calm, almost predatory.

  “Hands off,” Zoon says to Clive, his voice low, carrying that same dark edge.

  They move forward, cautiously, each step echoing softly in the tense silence.

  As they advance, Clive glances to his right.

  There, tucked away quietly, is a girl—maybe fourteen or sixteen—sitting in the shadows.

  Her eyes widen slightly when she sees Clive. Fear flickers across her face, subtle but unmistakable.

  She tries to shrink back, hiding herself as much as possible, but curiosity and terror keep her rooted in place.

  After a while,

  She sits on the ground, and both Clive and Zoon take seats nearby, making her feel a little more comfortable.

  “See, you don’t have to be scared of us,” Clive says gently.

  “Yeah, we’re just assholes… him outside, and me… the asshole inside here,” Zoon adds, dark humor lacing his words.

  “Let him speak,” Clive tells Zoon, raising an eyebrow.

  “Well, what’s your name?” Clive asks the girl.

  “Vidhi… Vidhi is my name,” she replies softly.

  “Vidhi… oh, what a name it is,” Clive says, smiling.

  Zoon chuckles. “If you like it so much… what does it even mean, asshole?”

  “Can you please shut up for a while?” Clive interrupts him, exasperated.

  “Well, Vidhi, how are you here? I mean, how did you end up in this place?” Clive asks carefully.

  “I saw the school was open, and I found this place was too, so I stayed,” Vidhi explains.

  Zoon leans slightly forward. “By the way… how long have you been here?”

  “Since this morning,” Vidhi replies.

  “What? Since this morning, and I didn’t even notice you once, kid?” Zoon says, mock outrage in his voice.

  “You’ll notice someone only if you pay attention,” Clive interjects.

  “Shut up,” Zoon snaps, still amused.

  “Well… I’m here alone, and if these assholes go on their way, why don’t you come with me?” Zoon asks Vidhi, his tone teasing but strangely reassuring.

  “What? But…” Vidhi hesitates.

  “Hey, no need to be afraid. Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Zoon says, voice softening just enough.

  Vidhi thinks for a moment, then slowly nods her head.

  Clive stands, brushing the dust and blood off his clothes. He glances at Zoon.

  “Then… you’re coming with me?” he asks, voice steady but tense.

  Zoon tilts his head, smirking. “For what?”

  “To bring people back,” Clive replies firmly.

  “No,” Zoon says, shrugging. “I don’t want to do that. And why do you want it? Why bring people back? Just relax. Look, we’re alone.

  Whatever we want, we can do. No one’s here to ask us questions.”

  Clive exhales sharply, eyes burning with determination. “But… I don’t want to live alone. I want people. I want my wife.” He pauses, voice tight. “I… I want my wife back from those beings, at any cost.”

  Zoon smirks, dark amusement in his eyes. “So you’re doing this… just to save your wife.”

  “Yeah,” Clive says, voice low, almost a whisper. “I’m doing this… just… to save… my wife.”

  Zoon chuckles, shaking his head. “What a husband you are.”

  “Well, see… I have no interest in bringing people—or your wife—back. So I’m sorry… I’m out,” Zoon says, voice calm but cutting.

  Clive clenches his fists, nods, and mutters, “Then okay. I’ll do it myself.”

  He starts to leave.

  “Hey! Stop! Stop!” Vidhi calls out, fear and worry in her voice.

  “Keep it up,” Zoon says lightly, still smirking, eyes following Clive’s retreating figure.

  Clive steps out of the room, determination written on his face, leaving Zoon and Vidhi behind.

  — — — — TO BE CONTINUED — — — —

  DARKNESS HAS COME TO ARISE

  CHAPTER 12: LOST IN HOPE

  Written & Created by

  DARK_Novels_