Chapter 1: The Blood-Stained Dawn
654 Words
The night smelled of rust and death.
Anant sat in the dimly lit office, his fingers tracing the rim of a half-empty whiskey glass. The air-conditioning hummed softly, barely masking the distant sounds of the city outside—car horns, sirens, and the occasional burst of laughter from street drunks. A heavy silence hung over the room, the kind that settled right before something terrible happened.
His father, Raghav Malhotra, sat behind the mahogany desk, flipping through the accounts. His mother, Maya, was curled up on the sofa, watching an old crime thriller on the wall-mounted TV. His younger sister, Aarushi, sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through her phone. It was an ordinary night.
Until the phone rang.
Raghav answered, his voice gruff. “Yes?”
A long silence. Then his father’s face drained of color. “You’re making a mistake.”
More silence.
Anant set his drink down, watching his father’s fingers tighten around the receiver. “You don’t want to do this,” Raghav said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I’ll—”
A gunshot cracked through the speaker.
Raghav’s breath hitched. Maya sat up straight. Aarushi looked up from her phone, confused.
Anant already knew.
“Dad?” Aarushi whispered.
Raghav’s hands trembled as he slowly placed the phone down. “It’s over,” he said.
Anant felt something cold settle in his chest. “Who?”
Before his father could answer, the windows shattered.
Gunfire tore through the room.
Aarushi screamed. Raghav dove to the ground, pulling Maya down with him. Anant was already moving, flipping the heavy wooden table for cover. Bullets ripped through the office—books exploded, glass sprayed across the floor, and blood splattered against the cream-colored walls.
Anant’s ears rang as he crawled toward his mother, but then—
A sharp, wet sound.
His father’s breath came out in a wet gurgle. Blood poured from his mouth as he collapsed onto his back.
“Raghav!” Maya shrieked.
Anant lunged forward, but a foot slammed into his ribs, knocking the air out of his lungs. He crashed against the floor, dazed. The barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead.
Through his blurred vision, he saw them—men in dark suits, their faces covered with black masks. A figure stepped forward, his voice familiar, cold, and filled with venom.
“You should’ve listened, Raghav.”
Maya sobbed, cradling Raghav’s lifeless body. Aarushi trembled, too terrified to move.
Anant’s vision swam.
The man pointed his gun at Maya next. “Clean it up.”
The last thing Anant saw before darkness claimed him was his mother’s head snapping back, blood painting the walls, and Aarushi’s final, terrified scream.
Then—nothing.
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The Awakening
Pain.
It was the first thing Anant felt.
He gasped, choking on dust and blood. His arms felt like lead, his legs numb. Slowly, he forced his eyes open. The world around him was broken—his father’s office was destroyed, soaked in blood. The bodies of his family lay motionless, their eyes empty, their warmth stolen.
Dead.
All of them.
Something inside him shattered.
He should have died with them.
Instead, he was alive.
Barely.
And then he heard it.
A whisper.
Low, guttural, inhuman.
“You seek revenge.”
Anant froze. The air grew thick, heavy, suffocating. Shadows crawled across the walls, twisting into something alive.
A voice slithered into his ears.
“I can give you what you desire.”
His breathing grew ragged. His fists clenched.
“Who…?”
The shadows pooled in front of him, forming a shape—a figure with burning crimson eyes, sharp horns, and a smile filled with promises of destruction.
“Lucifer,” the demon whispered. “And you, my child, are about to be reborn.”
Anant stared into the abyss and made his choice.
He would give his soul if it meant revenge.
And Lucifer grinned.
- Writer
