67| The brutal end
And I am not posting those parts here cause wk what would happen.
The calm in Aayansh's voice is chilling enough to suffocate the air.
Arsh's jaw flexes, his eyes fixed on Tara. She isn't scared... not even a little. And that unsettles him more than her fear ever would.
He knows Aayansh isn't acting blindly. There's always a reason. But when it comes to Tara, Arsh has no patience for plans or mind games.
Aashika's face is unnervingly blank, her hollow gaze pinned to Hriday.
Aaryan, Rithvik, and Vidyut groan where they'd been thrown, pain pinning them to the floor.
Hriday's eyes drop to the gun just an inch away, something unreadable stirring in their depths before he crouches, expression composed, almost a mask. He lifts the gun, not in haste, not in doubt. Just certain.
Aashika pulls Tara a step behind her and Arsh lunges forward.
But the next second breaks the tension in a way no one expects-
Because Hriday has pressed the gun to his own forehead, a thin, creepy smile forming on his lips.
"I've lived long enough." His gaze flicks to Aashika, cruel pride glinting in his eyes. "Long enough to still be proud of every sin I committed."
Aashika's eyes widen just as Hriday's finger begins to tighten on the trigger-
That's when the sound of slow, unsettling footsteps echoes through the hollow silence.
Hriday's eyes snap to the tall shadow closing in on them, broad-shouldered, cloaked entirely in black. Aayansh. There's nothing on his face. Absolutely nothing but a chilling calm. And somehow, that's far more terrifying than rage.
His gaze locks onto Hriday, who still has the gun pressed to his own forehead.
Another step forward.
"Shoot."
Hriday's aged muscles tighten, fear and insult colliding in his rigid stance.
And then- he swings the gun toward Aayansh, barking. "Stop there."
Aayansh doesn't even blink. Completely unfazed, another step forward, his death-cold stare boring into Hriday's. The echo of his approaching footfalls ripples through the mirrored walls.
Tara, fearless until now, her throat goes dry at the sight of Aayansh at gunpoint.
Witnessing all this, Arsh grips Tara's hand, his voice low and urgent. "Princess, you need to get out of here." His hold tightens, eyes sharp, pulling Tara toward safety.
"I won't go without him," She hisses, her restless gaze never leaving Aayansh as tears burn in her eyes.
Offended, Hriday slowly pushes his fingers toward the trigger, warning Aayansh. "You think you're still playing?"
Aayansh doesn't react.
Another step brings him closer.
That's when Hriday's patience snaps and he pulls the trigger.
Three gunshots race straight toward Aayansh-
In that exact microsecond, Aayansh inclines his head. The bullets rip past his ear, tearing through the space where his skull had been.
Tara's breath hitches.
Aayansh doesn't break stride, his gaze never faltering.
And before the smoke even fades-panicking-Hriday whirls toward Aashika to fire-
... only for his wrist to be twisted, aged bones slipping, snapping under Aayansh's grip as he writhes in unbearable pain, the bone yielding like dry kindling.
Aashika stands frozen, eyes pinned to the destruction unfolding before her.
Aayansh doesn't disarm Hriday, instead, he crushes his fingers deeper into the jagged edges of the cold metal until they break and bleed.
Trying to pull free, Hriday howls in pain, the sound echoing off like a living nightmare.
A small, sadistic smile touches Aashika's lips. She steps closer. "Aren't you tired of playing coward?"
Aaryan, Rithvik and Vidyut tremble, trying to crawl back across the floor through their own blood as they witness Hriday's condition. None of them dares to breathe a word.
Aashika takes another step, her eyes never leaving Hriday, savoring his agony. "You know, Aayansh... Mom was screaming like this too." She glances at Aaryan and the others. "But none of them showed her an ounce of mercy."
Hriday's tear-blurred vision shifts to her as another guttural howl rips from his throat.
"They all tortured her until she... she couldn't take it anymore."
Aayansh's gaze remains fixed on Hriday, cold and unblinking. He isn't reacting to Aashika's words with rage, he is absorbing them.
As he isn't a grown-up man tonight.
He's that same eight-year-old monster who held back a lifetime of carnage, after his mother, the only soul who ever tried to keep him human, was gone.
And now... the monster's finally home.
For the first time in years, Aashika's voice almost breaks. "This man even ordered his men to rap-"
Before she can even finish, a sickening crack echoes through the room. Hriday's mouth hangs open, a guttural, choked sound dying in his throat. His entire nervous system paralyzed as his arm is violently wrenched from its socket.
"Shhhh."
Then comes Aayansh's voice, silencing Aashika, his eyes never moving from Hriday as he listens to his screams of pain and suffering echoing back.
Aashika's gaze lingers on Aayansh. She falls silent, knowing the time for grieving is long over. She might be here for revenge, but what Aayansh is delivering is far worse. Justice.
Because men like him don't mourn.
... they make others mourn for their sins.
"Aaaghhh... le-leave my- pleas... aaahh" Hriday never gets to finish begging.
Aayansh wrenches Hriday's neck just enough to force him to meet his eyes. Even Hriday's soul shudders when their gazes lock. There's no rage in Aayansh's eyes, but something darker, demonic.
Aashika takes a step back, somewhere sensing what's about to come, her fists clenching.
"You do remember her last words," Aayansh whispers darkly, staring straight into Hriday's sinister, dying gaze.
Hriday's mind, numb with agony, struggles to process Aayansh's words as he remains trapped in his own suffering.
Then those words echo in his head, relentless, inescapable-
"Count yourself l- lucky, my son isn't here. Otherwise he would have torn you apart."
Aaina's faded voice.
Whispering all over again-
Once.
Twice.
It starts haunting him, as if her soul itself is warning him for one last time.
Save yourself if you can.
But-It's too late.
No one gets to run when their sins come calling.
"She was indeed innocent." Aayansh adds, then pauses, watching Hriday's gaze tremble.
And his lips curl, not a smile, just something resembling how sadistic he is. And he can be.
"Because I'm not tearing you apart."
--------- censored part----------
Aashika yanks her gaze away. Blood doesn't faze her, usually, but this... this is maybe too much.
A wave of nausea surges through Tara. Instinctively, her hands clamp over her mouth, choking back the scream she can't let out, her eyes wide with horror.
Arsh turns Tara toward him right away, pressing her face into his chest, not letting her witness any of this. His own knuckles white, expressions hard as he watches.
Here, without even looking at it, Aayansh flings Hriday's torn-off arm aside, as if it was nothing but discarded scrap of me-t.
And even as Hriday's body convulses uncontrollably, Aayansh's grip doesn't loosen.
Not once does Hriday plead for mercy. Perhaps some pride still lingers... or perhaps he's realized that tonight, mercy itself has knelt before the gates of hell.
Slowly, Aayansh yanks Hriday's face upward, forcing his blurred eyes to meet his own reflection in the blood-streaked mirrors. His torn arm lies discarded on the floor, every muscle shuddering, his body jerking like an animal being slaughtered.
The Godfather.
The man who had poisoned bloodlines, even his own, to feed his insatiable greed, is now nothing more than a broken carcass of flesh and bone. Still breathing. His reflection stares back at him... a monstrous reminder of the sins that never faded.
Somewhere... the ghost of his own daughter whispers in his mind.
Then-
Hriday's lips twist into a grotesque smile as he stares at his own blood-soaked reflection.
"De... death is just... inevitable," he wheezes, a bubble of blood bursting on his lips as his smile widens.
His words carry no remorse, as if he still refuses to give up.
"I never said you'd get death."
Aayansh's chilling whisper slithers into his ears.
Slowly, Hriday's gaze drags upward, meeting Aayansh's through the mirror as he leans in slightly, letting Hriday's blood streak across his chin.
"Izzat utaarne ka boht shauk hai na?"
Hriday's smile dies with these words.
For a few seconds, his numb mind collapses into darkness.
That moment when he ordered his men to strip Aaina of her dignity, those filthy words, her begging, her tears, her helplessness, her blood... everything surges back into his mind. Every. Single. Thing.
Aayansh watches Hriday drown in his own memories, a cruel satisfaction shadowing his face.
The next moment-
He slams Hriday into the very mirror that had been reflecting his blood-slicked form.
That mirror explodes into a thousand shards, tearing through Hriday's flesh, he thrashes, some shards slice into Aayansh's own skin, his chest, face, drawing blood, yet he stays still, as if the demon inside him had long ago devoured his capacity to feel anything at all.
More blood. More pain. More satisfaction.
While Hriday's thrown amid the glass shards, Aayansh's eyes catch another reflection in the mirrored wall-Aaryan, Rithvik, and Vidyut.
Rooted to their spots. Numb with terror.
Slowly, Aayansh's head tilts toward them.
All three men shiver under his gaze.
Yet none of them move an inch.
Whimpers slip past their mouths, raw and helpless.
What they feel isn't just fear, it's as if their own heartbeats are trying to claw their way out of their ribs.
Rithvik, who had already surrendered himself to death... even his throat turns to stone at the sight of Aayansh.
Aayansh remains unnervingly still, his tilted head watching them as if time itself has dared to not move, Hriday's blood still trickles down past his jaw. His face is expressionless.
He shuts his eyes for a moment, stretching out a small crack on his neck.
A flicker of relief washes over Aaryan.
Aayansh is calm. He might leave them alive. After all, he is Aayansh's father.
Summoning the last shred of courage left, he crawls toward Aayansh with a mix of fear and pitiful hope.
Finally, he clutches his foot, "Aayansh... I'm-I'm your father... please... forgive me."
Every word drips with fear as he begs for mercy before his own son.
Aashika's jaw tightens, a part of her itching to interrupt and tear this man with bare hands, but she wants to see what Aayansh would do.
Without glancing down, unhurriedly, Aayansh nudges his leg just enough for Aaryan to stumble slightly across the blood-slicked floor.
His hand is still clinging to Aayansh's foot. "I-I gave you life, son... please."
Aayansh eases his leg, Aaryan, sensing mercy, a tiniest trace of a smile breaks through his fear.
-------censored part-------
His soul feels torn from his body with a scream.
Tears streak down Aaryan's face as his body shakes senseless, a raw, pained cry escaping him.
That's when Aayansh's gaze drops, then without a word, he drives his leg forward, sending Aaryan crashing into shards where Hriday lies.
Amid the thousand shards on the floor, Aaryan sees his own cowardice reflecting back, mixed with crimson... a pathetic figure clutching what defined his masculinity, now crushed and ruined.
Vidyut, who has literally peed, teeters on the brink of blacking out, while Rithvik sits paralyzed, his body numb, every nerve screaming in frozen horror.
Here, a part of Tara urges her to rush to Aayansh, to stop him before he crosses a line from which there is no return.
But the fear.... It never allows her to even take a step near his direction.
Aayansh was never someone who'd hide his cruelty, protect her from his darkness. From the very beginning, she had known him to be ruthless, even evil. She had seen it. Yet she had never grasped the full extent of his sadism, never imagined it could reach this level.
And now... this. This was something her worst nightmares hadn't even dared to conjure.
In that moment, Aayansh's dead eyes catch his left hand, a slightest tremor running in the muscle beneath with a violent surge of adrenaline, straining against the limits of human flesh, as if something far darker inside him is clawing for release. But besides, there's nothing human in him.
Absolutely nothing.
His fingers twist into a fist.
And he crashes it into the mirrored wall at his side, the glass shrieks, spiderwebbing across its surface, while the sturdy wall behind buckles and fractures under the power of the strike.
And this was never out of rage.
His gaze settles on the heavy iron chain lying a few inches away, his eyes darkening.
He steps closer and crouches, lifting the chain, so heavy it clinks against the floor, he wraps its brutal weight around his bleeding fist.
That's when a gunshot erupts.
Aayansh's stance buckles slightly, blood pooling around his left knee.
Slowly, he turns his head toward the bleeding men littering the floor like the aftermath of a massacre.
Rithvik has shot Aayansh.
The gun he'd pulled from the floor is still quivering in his trembling hands.
Desperate, he tries to fire again-
but the gun clicks empty, and his eyes widen in sheer horror.
A small, evil smile curls on Aayansh's lips as he watches Rithvik's panic.
He bends his bleeding knee ever so slightly, shifting the weight, he plants it firmly on the floor again, his smile morphing into something feral.
Blood spills freely, yet Aayansh doesn't let his steps falter. He moves toward them like a predator, tightening the chain around his fist.
Vidyut scrambles back in panic.
Rithvik stays where he is, numb.
The heavy clink of the iron chain dragging against the glass shards is the only sound heard, a rhythmic, metallic death knell.
Rithvik's remaining breath dies the second Aayansh's shadow falls on him.
Aayansh tilts his head, watching him in silence.
"Aayanshh... I- am-"
His iron-wrapped fist doesn't strike, it closes around Rithvik's throat like a vice of cold granite, hauling him upward just enough to loop the iron around his chest.
A shredded cry escapes from him as the weight grinds into his body.
One by one, Aayansh harvests them, stringing their broken bodies onto the same iron chain.
Yet, they claw back for any strength left to fight
Vidyut whimpers, his body going limp as the cold iron bites into his skin, binding him to the others.
"Leee-aaaahhh... have... have mercy!" he screams, shuddering under the weight. "Please... Aaaah-"
That's when Aayansh glances down at him, bloodshot eyes cold and unfeeling... and Vidyut's voice dies within his throat.
The next moment, Aayansh wrenches their bodies upright, dragging them like carcasses behind him.
Aaryan, clutching his ruined gro--, tries to crawl away, but Aayansh's boot crushes his shoulder, pinning him down as he roughly weaves the chain through their limbs, connecting his father to brother, in a knot of shivering, bleeding me--t.
People ruin worlds for their people, but a son dragging his own legacy, his origin, his bloodline, bathed in crimson behind him... is ironic.
Finally, he reaches the mangled remains of Hriday.
The old man's eyes are glazed, his single remaining hand clawing at the air, somewhere hoping that his suffering might end.
Aayansh snaps the final link of the shackle around Hriday's neck, the weight of the iron forcing Hriday to bow his head into the blood-stained shards of his own legacy.
That night, Aaina faced these demons alone. Tonight, her son is tormenting them alone too.
The difference is, he himself is the demon dragging them into his own hell.
Aayansh rolls his shoulders, cords of muscle tightening as he forces his body to unleash every ounce of power it holds.
Then, with a heave of his broad shoulders-his black shirt stretching taut over his triceps-he starts forward.
He doesn't carry them. He drags them.
The sound is horrific, a staccato of groans, the wet slide of skin on glass, and the relentless clink-clink-clink of the iron.
Aayansh walks with a steady, predatory stride, his wounded knee leaving a thick trail of crimson that mingles with the blood of the four men behind him.
He hauls them across the length of the mirrored hall, their bodies thumping against the floor like discarded sacks of scrap me-t until he reaches another edge of the dark.
With a final surge of strength, he swings the chain.
The four men are sent tumbling, a tangled heap of broken bones and iron, crashing into the darkness below.
Here, Aashika stands frozen. Not once does she interrupt Aayansh's actions.
She is horrified herself, yet she knows Aayansh would never snatch her right to vengeance.
Tara remains in Arsh's arms, numb with fear.
Neither of them moves. Every mirror, shattered or whole, is painted with blood and torn flesh, the floor beneath them slick with it.