#"Not all beginnings lead to the light.. Some drag you into the deepest shadows."🥃🔥
Written By Af_ofa
— "I'll let the law and the media take care of it.
I'll go to the police… and reveal everything.
Your arrogance won't stand for long."
The words were spoken with a steady tone, filled with mockery and threat, as if they were the final shot in a long battle.
The other woman stood in deadly silence.
Everything inside her shook…
Her image, her reputation, everything she had built over the years was about to collapse in a single moment.
Panic overcame reason.
She glanced at the one who had turned to leave, and the air around her became suffocating.
Her hand reached toward a nearby table, grabbing a heavy glass ashtray…
And then she struck.
The sound was terrifying.
The blow landed directly on the head, followed by an even stronger strike to the ground.
The body staggered, then collapsed completely.
Silence.
Then blood.
She stood in place, breathing heavily, her hands trembling.
The ashtray still between her fingers, blood dripping from it slowly.
At the top of the stairs, someone had witnessed everything.
He froze, his eyes wide, as if time had suddenly stopped.
Then he ran.
His voice rose, filled with disbelief:
— "What have you done?!"
He knelt beside the prone body, feeling her neck for a pulse…
Then covered his face with his hands and fell to the floor.
Finally, her voice broke through, whispering:
— "Is… is she dead?"
***********************
•• A Few Days Before the Disaster ••
" When Everything Still Seemed Normal"
Just a few days before the disaster, nothing appeared out of place.
There were no screams. No blood. No chaos.
Just another ordinary morning on campus.
Or so it seemed.
The usual noise filled the air—intertwined conversations, exaggerated laughter, hurried footsteps, and the faint scent of cheap coffee drifting from the cafeteria.
Yet, in the midst of it all, there she was…
Walking calmly, as though untouched by the world around her.
Her features were soft, delicate—carrying an innocence that could easily mislead.
But her eyes?
Deep brown, wide, and watchful.
They didn't just look—they read.
There was a quiet intellect in them, a stillness that held more than it revealed.
She was tall, slender, her presence composed rather than loud.
Her brown hair fell freely over her shoulders, unstyled yet graceful—like everything else about her.
Her name was Jihan.
She didn't chase attention, nor did she care for empty chatter.
She belonged to the margins by choice—an observer, not a participant.
But even in silence, she stood out.
There was a certain gravity to her presence, the kind that made people notice without understanding why.
Next to her sat someone entirely different.
Shaima—shorter, brighter, constantly in motion.
Her short hair bounced with every nod, and her dark eyes sparkled with untold stories.
She was, in every sense, Jihan's opposite: talkative, impulsive, hopelessly romantic.
Shaima was the kind of friend who brought a bit of chaos into Jihan's order—and somehow, made it work.
That morning, they sat side by side in the lecture hall.
Jihan flipped through a romance novel she'd borrowed the day before, but her face betrayed her growing annoyance.
She shut the book with a loud snap and turned to Shaima.
— "Seriously? Passion? Obsession? People still write this kind of nonsense?"
Shaima gasped dramatically and snatched the book from her hands.
— "You don't understand anything!
Love, Jihan, isn't logic—it's fire. It's madness we willingly walk into."
Jihan gave her a half-smile.
— "Are you mad at me?"
Shaima didn't answer.
Her gaze had already shifted toward the entrance of the hall, and a slow smile curved her lips—the kind that only appeared for one reason.
She leaned in and whispered, almost breathless:
— "He's here…"
Shaima nudged Jihan's shoulder to make her turn, and Jihan did… slowly.
And there he was.
Tall. Impeccably dressed. Walking like the floor owed him respect.
His steps were steady, unhurried. His presence… undeniable.
His eyes were black, unreadable.
His jawline sharp. His dark hair neatly styled.
He wore a charcoal-gray jacket over a black shirt, and a watch that shimmered under the light.
He wasn't looking at anyone in particular.
In fact, he looked as though no one else existed.
Jihan didn't stare.
She gave him one glance, cold and brief, then turned back to her book.
Shaima stared at her in disbelief.
— "How do you do that?!
Every girl in here just fainted in her seat, and you're acting like he doesn't exist?"
— "Maybe I just see what they don't."
— "No, you're scared.
One day, I swear, you'll fall for someone so obsessed with you, he'll make you forget your own name!"
Jihan laughed quietly but said nothing more.
She didn't know that Shaima's careless words…
would become a prophecy.
And what awaited her was not love—
But obsession.
———————————————-
After the lecture ended, Jihan and Shaima made their way to the cafeteria.
The place, as usual, was alive with movement.
Laughter, trays clinking, overlapping voices—noise layered over more noise.
They found a table tucked into a quieter corner and sat down.
Shaima, still swept up in her romantic haze, hadn't stopped talking about him.
— "Did you see how he walked in? That confident stride, that unbothered stare…
Jihan, that man is a scene straight out of a novel!"
Jihan didn't respond. She was watching—from a distance.
She noticed how the girls hovered around him, each one trying to catch his eye with subtle gestures and giggles.
But his eyes didn't rest on any of them.
They rested on her.
Jihan.
Their gazes met—direct, steady, as if something unspoken had just passed between them.
She looked away quickly, returning her focus to the book in front of her.
But her chest tightened, and her heartbeat didn't return to normal.
Shaima leaned in and whispered with urgency:
— "Jihan… he's coming this way."
Jihan slowly raised her eyes.
There he was.
Standing directly in front of her.
His posture was confident, arms crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on her with calm persistence.
His voice was composed, but carried a hint of challenge:
— "Do you have a problem with me?"
She didn't answer.
She simply opened her book again and flipped to a random page, pretending he wasn't there.
He smirked faintly, then pulled out a chair beside her and sat down—uninvited.
He lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke upward, as if the rest of the world had vanished.
Shaima froze beside her, wide-eyed and silent.
He spoke again, this time more directly:
— "I'm talking to you.
Since the start of the semester, your eyes have been following me."
Jihan finally looked up and met his gaze with unwavering calm.
She knew exactly who he was.
And her response was deliberate:
— "And who exactly are you, that I should waste my gaze on you?"
Her tone was firm. Cold. Measured.
His eyebrow rose, intrigued.
He leaned in slightly, and his voice dropped to a murmur:
— "Oh, I think you know exactly who I am."
She said nothing.
But her eyes remained locked with his.
Then, quietly, she replied:
— "Diab.
Son of the Nassrawi family.
Sole heir to the largest construction empire in the country.
Yes, I know you.
Your reputation precedes you…
But reputation doesn't demand admiration."
His smile widened slightly, almost amused.
He stubbed out his cigarette on the table beside her, then pointed to his temple with one finger—still looking directly at her:
— "You're here now."
And with that, he stood and walked away—never once breaking eye contact.
Shaima kept staring at Jihan in disbelief, as though trying to convince herself it had really happened.
— "Was that real?"
she whispered eventually.
— "Did all of that actually happen?"
Jihan didn't respond.
His last words echoed in her mind like a quiet echo refusing to fade.
It wasn't what he said—it was how he said it. Calm, certain, as if he'd already written the ending.
Before she could process anything, a classmate approached their table.
He was quiet, well-mannered, someone you wouldn't usually notice.
He sat beside them without asking.
He glanced at Jihan, his tone calm but serious.
— "Be careful.
He's not the kind of guy who takes 'no' for an answer.
If he wants something… he gets it. And if that something is you…"
Jihan furrowed her brows slightly.
— "What are you talking about?"
He stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
— "I mean exactly what I said.
In his world, people don't reject him.
They disappear."
With that, he left—his warning hanging in the air like a fog Jihan couldn't shake off.
——————————
That evening, she returned home.
The house was calm, as it always was.
Simple and warm, with furniture that had stories in its fabric, and a silence that felt like peace.
She entered to find her mother finishing her prayer.
Jihan waited until she was done, then approached her quietly and hugged her from behind.
— "Did you pray for me?"
Her mother chuckled.
— "Always. For you and your sisters.
May God protect you all and guide you to what's best."
— "Amen…
Where are the girls?"
— "Nihad is asleep. She studied all day and got tired.
Marwa hasn't come back yet."
Jihan glanced at the clock.
— "She's late."
She pulled out her phone.
— "I'll call her."
But just as she was about to dial, the door opened and Marwa stepped inside, slightly out of breath.
— "I'm here!
Is there any lunch?"
Her mother smiled patiently.
— "I was waiting for both of you so we could eat together."
— "What about Dad?" Jihan asked.
— "He won't be coming. He said work is keeping him late."
Jihan looked at the table.
— "I'll take his lunch to him later."
Her mother nodded in approval and started arranging the dishes.
But something inside Jihan remained unsettled.
A quiet unease had taken root that morning and hadn't left her since.
It was small—hard to explain.
But soon,
that small feeling would grow.
And it would change everything.
———————————————
That evening, the air was still, an unusual quiet filling the house as if something unspoken lingered.
Marwa entered Jihan's room with light footsteps, a playful smile tugging at her lips. She moved towards the bed, then sat on its edge, her mind already working out the best way to present her request.
Marwa, the middle sister, was full of life. With her shiny brown hair, sparkling hazel eyes full of curiosity, and a smile that could light up the room, she seemed to always be on the edge of something exciting.
She was impulsive, spontaneous, and often driven by the thrill of new experiences—whether they were carefully thought out or not.
With a voice filled with affection, she said:
— "My beautiful, wise, and beloved sister… may I ask you for a small favor?"
Jihan didn't raise her eyes from her laptop. She simply replied, her tone calm and straightforward:
— "Say what you want, no need for introductions."
Marwa chuckled lightly and continued:
— "One of my classmates invited me to her birthday party tonight.
She said it will be a simple gathering, just a few girls.
But Mom refused. I think if you speak to her, she'll agree."
Jihan raised her eyes slightly and studied Marwa for a moment before responding in a firm voice:
— "Is it really a party, or is there something you're not telling me?"
Marwa hesitated for a moment but quickly regained her playful smile:
— "Of course! What would I possibly hide from you?
I swear, I'll be back on time, not a minute late."
Jihan sighed and closed her laptop:
— "Fine, I'll try talking to her. But there are conditions:
You return on time, don't make any contacts outside the group, and don't do anything you know will upset Dad."
Marwa placed her hand on her chest, feigning sincerity:
— "I promise!
I won't be late, and I won't open my mouth!"
She kissed Jihan on the cheek and rushed out of the room, a smile of excitement on her face.
But something in her eyes didn't seem entirely honest.
There was no birthday party.
No girls.
No house.
The truth was…
Marwa was preparing to step into a world she had never known before.
A high-end nightclub, frequented by the wealthy, a place that bore no resemblance to the life she knew.
She put on a dress she had carefully selected, styled her hair as if she were one of the movie stars she admired, and added a touch of perfume she had never dared wear for anything less than "special" occasions.
Her friend, the more daring of the two, was her companion in this new adventure.
When they arrived, the lighting was dim, the music deafening, and the air thick with smoke and expensive fragrances.
They sat at a distant corner of the club, observing the scene with a mixture of curiosity and hesitation.
— "Do you think he'll come?"
Marwa whispered, her eyes darting nervously around the room.
Her friend replied confidently:
— "He always comes. No one knows when, but he appears out of nowhere, like he doesn't want to be expected."
Marwa bit her lip:
— "I went to campus this morning just to see him up close…
He's even more handsome than I imagined.
If Jihan saw me here… she would never talk to me again.
And if Mom found out… I might never leave the house again."
Her friend laughed lightly:
— "Shush, didn't you want to see him? We're here for you, and if my mom finds out, she'll kill me too…"
(She paused for a moment)
— "He's here, look."
Marwa, whose heart was racing, quickly raised her eyes.
— "Where?"
Diab entered with his friend, both visibly drunk, clearly looking to continue their night out here.
They walked toward the corner where Marwa and her friend sat, watching them closely.
Diab's friend, noticing their gaze, said:
— "Those two girls are watching you."
Diab, with a hint of indifference, replied:
— "Nothing new."
His friend grinned and said:
— "No, no… seems like something new. This is the first time I've seen them here."
Diab turned his head slightly, his eyes red from the alcohol, and glanced at Marwa and her friend.
Marwa, feeling the tension rise, said:
— "Oh my God, this is so embarrassing! Did you see him looking at us?"
Her friend, equally anxious, responded quickly:
— "Yes, I saw. Come on, let's go."
Marwa:
— "Wait a bit."
Diab's friend, still observing, said:
— "The girl in the red dress is pretty, she looks young. I haven't seen her around the university."
Diab:
— "Just wait a bit."
His friends laughed as they understood his meaning.
Marwa, her pulse quickening, said firmly:
— "I'm going to say hello to him, then we'll leave."
Her friend, in disbelief, replied:
— "What are you going to do? Say hello? And what if he doesn't care?"
Marwa, a sudden burst of confidence overtaking her, replied:
— "Doesn't care? You'll see for yourself."
Before her friend could say anything else, Marwa stood up and slowly walked toward Diab.
Diab's friend, noticing her approach, said:
— "Here she comes."
Diab, watching her with a sarcastic smile, said:
— "This is how it is with girls. All of them."
Marwa, now standing behind Diab, said quietly:
— "Hello."
Diab turned slowly, tilted his head slightly to the right, and kept his eyes fixed on her.
Diab:
— "Hello, do I know you?"
Marwa, feeling nervous but trying to sound calm, replied:
— "No, but I know you."
His friends laughed, and it was clear that Marwa felt the awkwardness and tension rise in her.
Diab's friend, teasing, said:
— "She's one of the fans."
Diab, with a playful smile, extended his hand:
— "Let's get to know each other."
Marwa, with a smile despite her nerves, reached out her hand:
— "I'm Marwa."
Diab:
— "And I'm Diab."
He pulled her hand gently, guiding her to a quieter spot, away from the rest. His friends continued to watch closely.
Marwa sat with Diab, talking to him about herself. He listened with interest, his eyes glinting with curiosity. But in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think back to the morning encounter he had with Jihan.
Once Marwa finished talking, Diab took out something small from his pocket and offered it to her.
Marwa, intrigued, asked:
— "What's this?"
Diab, with a mysterious smile, replied:
— "This will take you to another world. Try it."
Marwa, hesitant, said:
— "No, I can't, I have to go now."
Diab, unfazed, said:
— "No problem."
He put the pill back in his pocket, then, accidentally, spilled some of his drink on Marwa's dress.
— "Oh, sorry."
Marwa, trying to ease the situation, said:
— "No, it's fine. I'll go to the bathroom now."
Diab, with a calm smile, said:
— "I'll go with you."
Marwa, avoiding eye contact, replied:
— "No need."
Diab, still smiling, said:
— "It's fine."
He stood up and winked at one of his friends.
When Marwa came out of the bathroom, she found Diab waiting for her, and she felt a rush of excitement. She never imagined she would be walking beside him, talking to him.
As they walked toward the table, Marwa spoke up.
Marwa:
— "Sorry, I have to go now."
Diab, with a hint of sadness in his voice, replied:
— "Okay, but can you stay with me for just a little longer… ten minutes, just ten."
Marwa, after a moment of hesitation, said:
— "Alright."
Marwa sat with Diab, and they talked for a while. However, after a few minutes, she began to feel an intense dizziness.
Her vision blurred, and the world around her started to twist, as though she saw Diab as two people instead of one.
She tried to focus, but her body started betraying her. Everything around her spun, and her mind felt like it was sinking into darkness.
She moved closer to him, and without realizing it, she began dancing wildly. Her body moved without control, as if she were trying to escape from something she couldn't grasp.
Her friend, watching the situation unfold, tried to pull her away, but Marwa refused to leave. She was lost in a strange state, showing only determination to keep going.
Her friend, sensing that something was terribly wrong, decided to leave without her. Meanwhile, Marwa kept dancing with Diab, who watched her drunkenly, his friends laughing at her, enjoying the spectacle.
Then, in a sudden moment, Marwa lost her balance and collapsed to the ground.
She regained consciousness for a brief moment, her eyes opening slowly. But what she saw was strange.
She was in an unfamiliar room, lying on a bed, with Diab beside her, half-dressed, playing with her hair and smiling mysteriously.
Her vision blurred again,. She closed her eyes, convinced that it was just a fleeting dream, that what she saw wasn't real.
——————————————
At that moment, Jihan was on the other side, drenched in sweat from anxiety.
She kept calling Marwa frantically, her heart nearly breaking with fear.
She was terrified that her parents would wake up at any moment and discover that Marwa was still missing.
She sat on the stairs, her eyes filled with panic as she watched the road, a sinking feeling filling her heart, realizing that this night would change the course of their lives—many lives, including her own.
To be continued….[ "What do you think? This is just the beginning!"]