Chapter 32 First Blood...? II

Words : 953 Updated : Sep 10th, 2025

No hesitation, no second-guessing—just raw instinct. "What the fuck?!" Rafiq twisted away on reflex, his hand shooting for the blade. But Malik was already on him, crashing into him with all the force of someone who didn't care if he lived or died. The two of them hit the dirt, hard, rolling and grappling in a messy tangle of limbs. Malik's knees dug into Rafiq's ribs, his hands clawing at whatever he could grab: his arm, his shirt, his hair—anything. It wasn't pretty, but it didn't need to be. Rafiq fought back just as dirty, throwing an elbow that caught Malik's jaw, sending his head snapping to the side. "Ugh..." Malik grunted, his vision swimming for a second, but he wasn't letting go. Adrenaline drowned out the pain, his focus locked on one thing—killing this bastard. His legs hooked around Rafiq's, trying to pin him down, while his hands scrambled to grab the hilt of the blade that was just barely out of reach. "Fuck. Off!" Rafiq shoved at Malik's chest with one hand but Malik held on, pulling him down with him. Dirt flew everywhere as they rolled again, Malik somehow ending up on top. He pressed his full weight down on Rafiq, pinning him hard. "Stay. The fuck. Down!" But Rafiq wasn't having it—he bucked hard, nearly tossing him off like some pissed-off draft monster. Yet again, Malik held on, though barely, and Rafiq tried once more. "Get the fuck off me!" His free hand latched onto Malik's robes and yanked him to the right, trying to use his own momentum to flip him over. It was a valid attempt, but Malik wasn't about to let that happen. His legs locked down on the ground like iron clamps keeping himself steady. He then quickly shoved his forearm into Rafiq's throat, leaning all his weight into it. Rafiq choked, his face turning red, but the bastard wasn't close to being done yet. His knee came up hard, smashing into Malik's side, earning a loud, wheezing grunt: "FUCK!" But instead of pulling back, Malik doubled down, using the pain as fuel. He elbowed Rafiq's head with his left while his right tried to pry the blade free. Rafiq gritted his teeth and his other hand came up, aiming for Malik's face. Malik jerked his head to the side just in time to dodge a thumb aimed straight for his eye. Close call—too close—but again, instead of backing off, it only made him go even harder. Pulling his right knee back like a loaded spring, he paused just long enough to aim, then slammed it forward, right into Rafiq's ribs "Hhhhsss..." The bastard hissed through gritted teeth, the pain slowing him down.@@@@ It was just enough for Malik to press the advantage. Noticing that, Rafiq tried to stop him, but all he could do was threaten: "Stop this you little shit! You'll regret this!" Malik wasn't listening to any of his barking. His whole world had narrowed down to that Shamshir, and he almost dove towards it, his legs kicking out to keep Rafiq off balance. But just before he could pick it up— Rafiq gasped, his defense faltering for just a second—but again, that second was more than enough. Though that second wasn't for the blade, no, it was to ensure victory. Another punch followed. Then another. And another. Each one slammed directly into the gash. "AHH—! FUCK YOU! DIE! Y—" Malik didn't let him finish his strangled cries, shoving his knee straight into Rafiq's groin. "HAAAH!" Rafiq crumpled in on himself, gasping for air, completely wide open. Deeming it the perfect moment, Malik snatched up the Shamshir without a second thought, gripping it with both hands. This time? No way in Hell he was letting go. His entire body shook with rage, adrenaline, and pure exhaustion as he reversed his grip and raised it, pointing it down like it was a thunderbolt. "DIE!" He brought it down with every ounce of strength he had left. Squelch! The blade dug into Rafiq's thigh, and that sound—wet, disgusting—just made him go even harder. "AAAAAHHHHH—! STOP! STOP, YOU SHIT! PLEASE!" Rafiq's tried to claw himself away, his hands scrambling in the dirt like a panicked animal. Blood poured from his wound, staining the ground beneath them. It was a sorry sight, one that could affect the hearts of many, but Malik wasn't stopping. "I SWEAR! YOU WON'T SEE ME AGAIN! I'LL DISAPPEAR!" He didn't blink at his begging. "I SWEAR I WILL!" Malik wordlessly dragged himself after Rafiq, each movement fueled by pure spite. Then, with a loud snarl, he ripped the blade free and slammed it into Rafiq's back, the impact knocking him flat onto his stomach. "PLEASE! PLEASE... STOP! SPARE ME!" Rafiq's cries turned pitiful, his body convulsing as he struggled to push himself off the ground. His hands continuously shook, slipping in the blood-soaked dirt. "I... I... beg you..." Malik's face was blank—expressionless except for the fire blazing in his eyes. Begging wasn't going to work on him. He yanked the blade free again, blood splattering across his arm, and raised it high. His muscles burned, his whole damn body shaking, but he didn't care. This was it. This was the moment. Rafiq was about to learn what real pain felt like. But before Malik could swing down, before the blade could end it all— '...No.' Everything went black. No warning. No sound. Just... nothing. One second, he was about to end it, and the next—darkness.

Chapter 32 First Blood...? II

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