The Revenge Cage

“Aarohi... you there?” Aarav’s voice crackled softly through the phone, grounding her even amid the buzz of the city. She held the phone tighter, smiling without realizing it. “Yes, I’m here,” she whispered, weaving through the crowd. Her voice was soft, like the fabric she kept brushing her fingers over, a pale blue scarf hanging gently from the corner of a street vendor’s stall. “Why do you sound so distracted?” Aarav’s tone held a teasing edge. “Because I am,” she replied. “This market is so alive today. It feels like something special is about to happen.” “You mean like you finally picking a gift for your charming, ever-so-patient boyfriend?” She laughed, lowering her voice so her parents wouldn’t overhear. “Yes. And you won’t believe it, but I’m actually holding something that reminded me of you.” “Oh?” he asked, amused. “Let me guess. A mirror?” “Idiot.” Her cheeks flushed. “It’s a scarf. Sky blue, just like the shirt you wore the day we first met.” Aarav fell silent for a second. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “You still remember that?” “I remember everything about that day.” There was a pause, long enough to let the emotion hang in the air between them. “I wish I was there,” Aarav said. “To see your face when you give me that scarf.” “You will be,” she whispered. “Soon.” Before he could reply, her mother’s voice called from behind, “Aarohi! We’re at the laddoo stall. Come here!” “I have to go,” she said, reluctant. “But stay on the line. Just... stay.” She slipped the scarf from the display and asked the shopkeeper to keep it aside. Then she jogged across the street, holding her dress up so it wouldn't catch on the uneven pavement. Her parents stood beneath a red canopy. Her mother was busy tasting sweets while her father joked with the vendor. Her younger brother, Vihaan, was already licking a kulfi like it was the last one on earth. “Try this,” her father said, breaking a piece of laddoo and holding it out to her. Aarohi took it. The sugar melted on her tongue, sending her straight back to Diwalis past, sparklers in her hands, her mother’s warm hands over her shoulders, her father laughing heartily with neighbors. For a moment, she wasn’t an eighteen-year-old on the edge of womanhood. She was still their little girl. “I’m so happy today,” she said, out of nowhere. Her mother looked at her curiously. “What happened to my moody daughter?” Aarohi grinned. “Maybe I just realized how lucky I am.” They wandered through the market together, each stop tugging at another memory. Her father bought her bangles she didn’t need. Her mother insisted on choosing a dupatta she’d never wear. Vihaan climbed up on a man’s shoulders to spot a magician in the next alley. When they passed a street musician playing a flute, Aarohi slowed down. The sound, so pure and lonely, made her chest ache. She pulled out her phone again and typed a message to Aarav: I wish you were here. He replied immediately. I already am. In your pocket, in your mind, and your scarf. She smiled again. Then it happened. They had paused near a clay pottery stall. Her mother was haggling over a set of diyas. Her father was speaking to an old friend from work. Aarohi turned her head back toward the scarf shop, suddenly remembering she hadn't paid for it yet. “Just a minute,” she said, stepping away. She walked alone, weaving through the crowd. The closer she got to the shop, the quieter everything around her seemed to grow. The world slowed, just for a second. She was almost at the shop. Her hand reached out toward the scarf, And then the world split open. BOOM. The blast tore through the street with a deafening roar. Windows shattered. Flames surged through the air like a beast unleashed. Dust and debris flew in every direction. Aarohi was thrown backward. Her ears rang, pain seared through her shoulder as she hit the ground. The scarf fluttered down beside her like a falling petal... untouched, surreal. Screams echoed all around. The once vibrant market was now smoke, fire, and chaos. For a moment, she couldn't move. Then instinct kicked in. “Maa! Papa!” she screamed, her voice cracked and desperate. “Vihaan!” She stumbled to her feet, half-running, half-falling toward where she last saw them. Her sandals were gone. Her arm bled from a gash she didn’t feel. Her eyes burned, and smoke clawed at her lungs. She pushed past people. some crying, some bleeding, some lifeless. Her father’s friend lay motionless on the ground. Her mother’s bangles were scattered across the street. No sign of her family. “Please...” she whispered, begging no one. Sirens wailed in the distance, but they sounded far-too-far. A hand grabbed her arm suddenly, pulling her backward. She fought blindly, screaming, until the voice cut through the haze. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay.” The voice was unfamiliar, deep, commanding. When she looked up, all she could make out were sharp eyes and a jaw clenched with control. “I—I need to find my parents!” she cried. “There’s no time,” the man said. “You’re coming with me.” “What?! No!” she struggled again. “Let me go!” But more men came. Dressed in black. Faces stern. Movements precise. One of them murmured something into a radio. Another pushed away the bystanders. In seconds, Aarohi was surrounded and then—taken. She screamed for help, for her mother, for Aarav... but the streets had gone silent again, save for the fading sounds of destruction. She didn’t see who had grabbed her. She didn’t know where they were taking her. She only knew one thing: Her life had just been stolen from her, and she didn’t even understand why. "Where are you taking me?!" Aarohi shrieked, her voice cracking as she pounded her fists against the chest of the man holding her. Her body shook, not from the cold, but from shock, fear, and confusion. “Let me go! My parents... they’re out there, I need to find them!” The man didn’t respond. His grip was tight, but not cruel. His jaw remained set, expression unreadable as he shoved open the back door of a black SUV parked in the alley behind the market. Another man held it open while scanning the street. Sirens wailed in the distance, closer now. The air reeked of smoke and burning metal. “No!” Aarohi kicked wildly, struggling to break free. “I don’t know you! Leave me alone!” Still no response. He lifted her into the vehicle as if she weighed nothing. The door slammed shut, and the city disappeared behind dark-tinted glass. She scrambled toward the opposite door, pulling at the handle. Locked. Her breath hitched. The walls of the SUV felt like they were closing in. She turned, heart racing, eyes wide with panic. Across from her sat the man. Broad shoulders, sharp features, black shirt speckled with soot. His hands rested calmly on his thighs. Everything about him screamed control. But his eyes… they flickered, just for a second, with something else. Regret? Concern? Guilt? She didn’t know, and she didn’t care. “Who the hell are you? Why did you take me?” she snapped, her voice trembling. “Are you behind the blast?! Were you watching us?!” He finally looked at her. His voice was low and steady, like steel wrapped in velvet. “If I hadn’t pulled you out, you’d be dead by now.” “That doesn’t answer anything!” she fired back. “My family was there! My little brother!” “I know.” “You know?” Her voice cracked. “Then take me back. Take me back right now-please-maybe they’re still-” “No.” His one-word answer cut through her like a blade. Tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t even try to wipe them. “You can’t just, take me! Who gave you the right?!” He looked away for a moment, as if biting back words he wasn’t ready to say. Then he pulled something from his jacket pocket, a small silver pendant, stained with ash. He held it out to her. She gasped. It was Vihaan’s. His name engraved on the back in her own handwriting, the Rakhi gift she gave him last year. Her trembling hand reached out. She took it slowly, staring at it like it might speak. “I found it near the impact zone,” he said. “There was… too much fire. Too much smoke. But no bodies.” Her fingers clenched around the pendant. “So they could still be alive?” “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “But right now, they’re not the ones in danger. You are.” She blinked. “What? What are you saying?” He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping even lower. “The blast wasn’t random. It was meant to distract. To clear the area.” “Clear the...” she swallowed. “Why would anyone need to clear the area?” His silence gave her the answer. Her mind reeled. It wasn’t just a market explosion. It wasn’t just a tragedy. It was a plan. And somehow, she was the target. She shook her head, the truth far too heavy to process. “You’re insane.” He didn’t argue. Instead, he pulled out a phone. Dialed. Spoke quickly in a language she didn’t recognize. Then he hung up and looked at her again. “You’re safe now,” he said. “No,” she whispered. “I’m not. I’m with strangers. My parents are missing. My brother might be... ” her voice broke, “and I don’t even know your name.” He looked at her, then finally spoke the words that would change everything. “Zain.” “And from this moment on… your life belongs to me.” Aarohi’s breath caught. The car sped into the night, leaving behind the fire, the screams, and the girl who had no idea how deeply her fate had just been rewritten.