EPISODE 12: THE MAN WHO KNOWS MY SECRETS
829 Words
The gunshot echoed through the air.
Sharp.
Loud.
Final.
My ears rang as everything around me froze.
For a split second…
No one moved.
Then—
A body dropped.
Heavy.
Lifeless.
Right in front of me.
I gasped, stumbling backward as my heart slammed violently against my chest.
“Oh my God…”
My voice came out shaky, barely audible.
My eyes locked on the figure lying on the ground.
Blood slowly spreading beneath him.
“No… no, no…”
My hands began to tremble uncontrollably.
“I didn’t I choked, unable to finish the sentence.
Because I didn’t even know what just happened.
Did I
Did *I* cause this?
“Hey. Look at me.”
His voice cut through the chaos.
Firm.
Urgent.
I felt his hands grip my shoulders, forcing me to face him.
“Breathe.”
“I think he’s dead…” I whispered, my lips quivering.
His jaw tightened as he glanced briefly at the body.
Then back at me.
“We don’t have time for this.”
“What do you mean we don’t have time?!” I snapped, panic rising. “Someone just—someone just got shot!”
“I know.”
“Then why are you so calm?!”
“Because this isn’t over.”
My stomach dropped.
“What…?”
Before he could answer
Voices echoed from a distance.
Shouting.
Running footsteps.
More people.
My blood ran cold.
“They’re coming,” he muttered.
“Who is ‘they’?!” I cried.
But he didn’t answer.
Instead, he grabbed my wrist again.
“Move. Now.”
“No!” I pulled back slightly. “We can’t just leave him here!”
“If we stay, you’ll be next.”
The words hit hard.
Too hard.
Fear wrapped around my chest like a vice.
“I don’t understand anything…” I whispered.
“I know,” he said, softer this time. “But you have to trust me.”
Trust.
That word again.
It felt heavier now.
More dangerous.
Another voice rang out—
“Over there!”
My heart skipped.
They saw us.
“Too late,” he muttered.
Then everything happened fast.
Too fast.
He pulled me along as we ran, my legs barely keeping up with him.
My mind still stuck on the image
That body.
That blood.
That gunshot.
“Wait I gasped. “Tell me what just happened!”
“You defended yourself.”
I froze mid-step.
“What…?”
“You pulled the trigger.”
My world tilted.
“No…”
“Yes.”
“I would never
“You did.”
My chest tightened painfully.
“I don’t even know how to use a gun!” I cried.
“That’s the problem.”
I stopped completely this time.
“For you to use it like that…” he continued, turning to face me, his eyes intense, “means this isn’t your first time.”
Silence.
Deafening.
My heart pounded louder.
“No…” I shook my head slowly. “That’s not possible.”
But deep down…
Something didn’t feel right.
Because when I tried to remember—
There was nothing.
Just darkness.
A gap.
A missing piece.
“Who am I?” I whispered, my voice breaking.
For the first time…
He hesitated.
And that scared me more than anything.
“You really don’t remember…” he murmured.
“Remember what?!”
Before he could answer
A gunshot rang out again.
Closer this time.
We both ducked instinctively.
“RUN!” he shouted.
And this time
I didn’t argue.
We ran through narrow paths, my breathing uneven, my legs burning.
Another shot.
Then another.
“They’re shooting at us!” I panicked.
“Keep moving!”
“I can’t
“Yes, you can!”
Suddenly
My foot caught on something.
I lost balance.
And fell hard to the ground.
Pain shot through my knee.
“Ahh!”
He turned instantly.
“Get up!”
“I can’t
“GET UP!”
Something in his voice
Sharp.
Commanding.
Triggered something inside me.
Without thinking
I pushed myself up.
Fast.
Too fast.
Even I was surprised.
We kept running until the noise faded.
Until everything went quiet again.
Too quiet.
Finally
He stopped.
Breathing heavily.
I stood there, trying to catch my breath, my body still shaking.
“Talk to me,” I demanded.
“No more running. No more hiding. I need the truth.”
He looked at me.
Really looked this time.
Like he was finally making a decision.
Then he said quietly
“The people chasing you…”
My heart pounded.
“…are the same people who trained you.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“And the man you just shot?”
He paused.
And that pause?
It scared me.
“He wasn’t just a random attacker.”
My chest tightened.
“Then who was he…?”
His eyes darkened.
“Someone who knows exactly who you used to be.”
- Writer
