Chapter 1: The Game of Shadows and Survival
Chapter 1: The Game of Shadows and Survival
A young man, around 18-19 years old, was running frantically. His turban set him apart from the crowd. He cut through the throng of people, ignoring the traffic, as if he were dodging death itself. Sometimes through the crowd, sometimes through deserted alleys—he just kept running. Finally, he stopped in front of a garage. The garage was empty, and silence hung thick in the air. All he could hear was the sound of his own labored breathing. He quickly entered the garage and began trying to open the locks of the cars around him, but naturally, they were locked. One after another, he tried, growing more desperate with each attempt. In frustration, he kicked one of the cars, and to his surprise, he heard a noise from the back. Without wasting a moment, he rushed to the rear and saw that the trunk of the car was slightly ajar—perhaps the lock hadn’t been properly secured, and the force of his kick had loosened it. He felt as if fate itself had guided his hand. Without a second thought, he opened the trunk and jumped inside. In the next instant, he slammed the trunk shut.
As the trunk closed, darkness enveloped him, but he didn’t care. He needed a hiding place, and he had found one. For the first time, he felt a strange sense of security.
Then, he heard the sound of boots approaching, growing louder as they neared. They were probably the ones searching for him.
"Where the hell did he go?" one of them panted.
"You were leading the chase! Why are you asking me?" another snapped angrily.
"Enough! Stop arguing and search everywhere!" a third voice commanded, silencing them.
"He’s not hiding in any of these cars," one said, trying to open a car door.
"You’re right. Where could he have gone so quickly?" another agreed.
He listened to them checking the car doors and moving around, their boots echoing. He remained silent in the trunk, secretly amused by their conversation. At that moment, it felt as if he were playing a game of hide-and-seek with life and death itself.
Then, he heard one of them muttering in the distance, "This way! He must have gone this way. Quick, let’s go!"
"Let the dogs loose. I’ve already informed the boss. Soon, our men will be all over the city..."
He heard another voice fading away. With it, their footsteps and voices grew distant.
Inside the trunk, he muttered sarcastically to himself, "Such geniuses! They’ve cooked up quite a scheme. But as they say, ‘Why fear the gallows when your head is already in the noose?’"
He thought about getting out, but the trunk was locked. Trying to force it open would be risky, and they had said their gang was also searching for him. Stepping out into the city at this hour would be dangerous. He decided to stay in the trunk a little longer, to rest. For now, the danger had passed, but he was exhausted. So, he closed his eyes to rest, and his mind carried him back to where it all began—how an ordinary life had led him to take refuge in the trunk of an unknown car.
It had been a day of joy for him. He had just passed his job interview with a prestigious company, and his job was set to start the following week in another city. He wanted to tell his parents, but they were in a different time zone. It was night there, so he decided to wait until morning.
He put on his earphones, humming his favorite song, and headed toward his room. Suddenly, he noticed a crowd of people approaching. He removed his earphones and heard shouts and commotion. His curiosity drew him back toward the noise. It wasn’t his fault—it was his genetic instinct, or perhaps madness, that he couldn’t resist.
When he reached the spot, he saw a few men in black suits attacking a man on the sidewalk. They were kicking and punching him, but the man stood alone against them, fighting back despite the odds. He recognized them instantly—they were agents of the "Dark Heldar", a powerful gang known for their terrifying reputation in the criminal underworld, their political influence, and their modern, armed forces.
He couldn’t just stand there and watch. Nearby, he saw some stones, broken bricks, and pieces of iron rods from a construction site. He shouted, "Back the hell off, you lowlifes! Leave him alone! Or face him—one by one, if you’ve got the guts!"
With that, he began hurling stones and bricks at them. Some missed, some hit their mark. But the young man unleashed a barrage of bricks and stones that acted as cover fire for the victim, who took advantage of the distraction to push the agents back.
The young man, still throwing bricks blindly, managed to injure a couple of agents. The agents were stunned and furious—they had never expected such resistance, especially from a stranger. With the young man’s help, the victim fought back fiercely. The victim grabbed one agent by the collar and smashed him against a nearby car window. Then he kicked another in the stomach, making him vomit blood and collapse to the ground. Finally, he punched a third, breaking his nose.
The agents were so shocked that without wasting time, they started firing their guns. A bullet pierced the victim’s skull, and he fell lifeless to the ground.
The young man screamed in anger, picked up an iron rod, and swung it with all his might, hitting the shooter in the neck. The rod did its job before the young man could do any more damage. The remaining agents started firing at him, but the construction site provided cover, and the young man managed to escape behind a pile of bricks.
Thus, fate—or perhaps his own reckless courage—led him from a happy life to the darkness of a car trunk. This is life, where every new moment brings new joy and new pain. Who knows what death awaits in the next moment? There is no solution to this riddle. Destiny always carves the path, but it never lets the blame fall on itself.
Suddenly, the sound of the car starting jolted him back to consciousness. Someone was driving the car, but he didn’t know who it was or where they were going. When the driver found out about the young man, how would he react? For now, he checked his phone and saw that the car was still near the garage and heading out of the city. He decided to stay quiet for a while until they were far from the garage.
Then he smiled to himself, at his own madness, for having the audacity to confront the Dark Heldar agents despite being unarmed. But he had no regrets; he had given his all to save that innocent man, though fate had other plans. Still, he had managed to injure a couple of agents with the iron rod and stones, which was no small feat. He murmured, "॥ Shri Akal Sahai॥" and put his earphones back on. There are only two ways to live life: one is to cry over the past and your decisions, and the other is to adapt to what is happening, especially when there is no way to turn back. There is no point in being sad.
It was the grace of the Almighty that not only chose him to stand up to those thugs with a smile but also saved him despite putting himself in danger. Lost in these thoughts, the young man and the car disappeared into the darkness of the night.
---End of Chapter 1---
