The corridor outside the hotel room was unnaturally silent, as though the world itself had decided to pause and observe what was about to unfold. The dim yellow lights flickered faintly above, casting unstable shadows that stretched and shrank with every passing second, making the environment feel alive in a way that was deeply unsettling. Akshat stood still for a moment, his senses sharpened, while Alexander remained a step behind him, his impatience barely concealed beneath his steady breathing.
The door in front of them was slightly ajar, just enough to reveal a thin sliver of darkness inside. That darkness was not ordinary, as it carried a strange weight that made the air feel heavier than it should have been. Akshat pushed the door open with controlled precision, ensuring it did not make even the slightest sound, and the two slipped inside like shadows blending into a deeper void.
The room was dim, illuminated only by a faint bedside lamp that cast a dull orange glow over the interior. The curtains were drawn tightly, preventing any external light from entering, and the air smelled faintly of alcohol and something metallic that lingered at the edge of perception. At the center of the room lay Harsh, sprawled carelessly across the bed, his breathing slow and uneven, as if he had drowned himself in intoxication.
Akshat's gaze locked onto him instantly, and for a brief moment, everything else in the room seemed to fade away. The mission was simple, brutally so, and yet simplicity often hid the most dangerous complications. Alexander stepped forward, already drawing the blade from his side, his movements efficient and devoid of hesitation, reflecting a man who had killed enough times for it to become second nature.
Akshat followed, his footsteps silent, his mind calculating distances, angles, and outcomes with mechanical precision. The faint sound of Harsh's breathing echoed softly in the room, creating an eerie rhythm that matched neither of their heartbeats. As they reached the edge of the bed, Alexander raised his blade slightly, preparing to bring it down in a single decisive motion.
And then—
A sound.
It was faint, almost insignificant, yet it shattered the fragile stillness like a stone thrown into calm water. The soft, deliberate echo of footsteps approached from the corridor outside, each step measured and unhurried, as though the person walking had no reason to fear what lay ahead.
Akshat's eyes narrowed instantly, his instincts flaring with silent warning. Without wasting a second, he grabbed Alexander's arm and pulled him back into the shadows near the corner of the room, where the darkness was thick enough to swallow their presence. Alexander frowned, clearly displeased, but he did not resist, trusting Akshat's judgment despite his growing frustration.
The door creaked open.
A figure stepped inside.
She moved with a quiet elegance that felt out of place in such a suffocating environment, her presence altering the atmosphere in a way that was difficult to describe yet impossible to ignore. The faint light from the lamp revealed only fragments of her appearance, enough to form a silhouette that was both graceful and unsettling. Her gaze swept across the room slowly, as though she was not merely observing but analyzing, dissecting every detail with an awareness that sent a subtle chill down Akshat's spine.
Akshat held his breath unconsciously, his body completely still, blending into the darkness as he watched her. There was something wrong about her, something that did not align with the natural order of things, and that instinctive discomfort made him more cautious than ever before.
She paused.
For a brief moment, her gaze shifted toward their direction.
The air tightened.
Alexander's grip on his blade intensified, ready to strike if necessary, but Akshat raised his hand slightly, signaling him to stay still. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until she finally turned away, her attention settling on the figure lying on the bed.
Harsh.
She approached him slowly, her steps soft yet deliberate, as though she had done this countless times before. There was no hesitation in her movement, no uncertainty, only a calm familiarity that made the situation even more disturbing. As she reached the bedside, she leaned closer, her expression softening in a way that felt almost unnatural.
Then, unexpectedly, she became… affectionate.
Her movements turned gentle, almost clingy, as she leaned against Harsh, her fingers brushing against his arm as though he was something precious rather than a target. The contrast between her earlier presence and this sudden shift in behavior created a dissonance that made Akshat's mind race with possibilities.
Nothing about this was normal.
Alexander leaned slightly closer to Akshat, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke, "Let's finish them both."
The suggestion carried no hesitation, only cold efficiency, but Akshat shook his head almost immediately, his eyes never leaving the girl.
"No," he mouthed silently.
Alexander's expression darkened, his frustration evident, yet he remained silent, waiting for Akshat's reasoning.
Akshat observed her carefully, analyzing every subtle movement, every shift in her posture, every detail that could reveal even a fraction of her true nature. The way she entered without fear, the way she scanned the room as if expecting something, and the way she now clung to Harsh all pointed toward a single conclusion.
She was not an ordinary person.
And attacking without understanding her would be a mistake.
Time passed slowly, each second stretching into something unbearable, until Akshat finally made his decision. He gestured toward the window at the far end of the room, his intention clear.
They were leaving.
Silently.
Alexander hesitated for a fraction of a second, his desire to eliminate the targets conflicting with his trust in Akshat, but in the end, he relented. The two moved carefully, their steps controlled and precise, ensuring they did not disturb the fragile balance that kept them hidden.
The window slid open with minimal resistance.
Cold air rushed in.
Without making a sound, they slipped out and descended, using the structure of the building to reach the ground below. The moment their feet touched solid ground, the tension that had gripped them loosened slightly, though it did not disappear entirely.
Alexander turned to Akshat immediately, his frustration no longer restrained.
"Why didn't you let me kill them both?" he demanded, his voice low but sharp.
Akshat remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the upper floors of the hotel, as though he could still see through the walls and into the room they had just left.
"Just stop it," he said finally, his tone calm yet firm. "We need information, and rushing in blindly won't get us that."
Alexander scoffed, clearly unconvinced, but Akshat continued before he could argue further.
"That girl… she's not normal," he said, his voice lowering slightly as his thoughts aligned into a clearer conclusion. "Did you see the way she entered, the way she scanned the room? She knew something, or at least expected something, and that alone makes her dangerous."
Alexander frowned, recalling the moment, his expression shifting slightly as he processed the implications.
Akshat's eyes hardened.
"We take our time," he continued. "We observe, we understand, and then we act. That way, we minimize casualties and eliminate risks."
The night air felt colder than before, carrying with it a sense of unease that lingered beneath the surface. Somewhere above them, behind layers of concrete and glass, the situation continued to evolve, and whatever that girl was, she had just turned a simple assassination into something far more complicated.
Akshat exhaled slowly, his mind already moving ahead, planning the next steps with calculated precision.
This was no longer just about killing Harsh.
This had become something else entirely.
End of ch RD 1
To be continue...
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