Time had passed slowly for Imad in the last few hours - rather, it had come to a standstill. Fahad's premonitions and foreshadowing had not been wrong, but so startlingly accurate that for Imad the sole blame for the turnaround of these events was upon him.

Had he been more proactive - more true with his feelings then perhaps things would not stand o be where they were. But on the other hand, the question of his unrelenting loyalty to Asadullah in front of his own feelings resurfaced again. If Asadullah had wanted Nazli from the start, could he have risked his life long partnership for a woman he had known merely for a few weeks? For him and his brother, Asadullah's support was not only paramount, but also significantly life changing.

"Imad." The only form of permission Asadullah asked before entering the spacious room. After arranging for three rooms - one for the twins, another for the cousins, and the solo for Asadullah, Imad had wanted some peace of mind. But Asadullah's white shirt was now a blood-red colour and was demanding immediate attention.

One accidental cut to his artery and he would be dead, a voice teased in Imad's brain as he pulled out his medical equipment. Reflecting off the steel medical tray were his apathetic eyes while a painful storm wreaked havoc in his heart. Why did fate always laugh in his face? Was this the punishment for the numerous crimes he had done against the innocent?

"Something is wrong," Asadullah stated, tugging his shirt harshly and ripping it open. Even the scraps of his bloodied shirt could have lasted a poor family for months. "Speak your mind, cousin. Your opinion, your thoughts, and to an extent, even your complaints are valuable to me."

"I have nothing to say." His voice came out flat even as he removed the bullet from his leader's shoulder. Asadullah's eye twitched at the sharp agony, but soon he was smiling softly. For once Imad despised the gentle look on his face.

"I have much to say, Imad!" There was a hint of elation in his leader's baritone voice. "My victory over Baba and today, Shah Zaman has once again reassured me that I am capable of leading this organization to great heights."

Imad's brow twitched and his jaw tightened. "And the girl?"

A thoughtful shine passed over his onyx eyes and Imad waited with much deliberation - the scalpel in his hand begging to be used.

"She has her place." He finally said, throwing his head back and giving Imad the full view to his sleek neck. If only . . . he could be a traitorous dog for a day, then only blood would be spewing here. A soft whisper invaded his murderous thoughts, bringing him back to reality. Those words - spoken like a soft breeze that floated by held something foreign that he had not heard in his leader's voice before. Words that carried weight and . . . emotion.

"A very special place."

***

With her face glued to the window and blue eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, Shahrazad stared at the bustling city of Gilgit from their posh temporary residence. Everything in the room was straight out of dream - the bed was so plush and soft, even a sheep's wool couldn't match it. The interior of the room was a light pink and with a click of a button, lights could be dimmed and brightened. That bastard Fahad had giggled when she and Nazli had jumped at the sudden darkness, but little did Shahrazad care. How could she care about anything except this new world that surrounded them?

When a vehicle drove by, Shahrazad squealed with joy. "Oh look! There is a car! I finally saw a car, Nazli!" But after an eerie silence followed, the girl realised with an urgency that in all her excitement to be in the city, she had forgotten about the tragic events that had led her to this in the first place. "I am sorry, Nazli . . . I don't know what-"

Her cousin sat on the floor in front of the bed - hollow emerald eyes focused on nothing. Shahrazad had only seen that look on her face once before - after they had rescued her from the incident which had resulted in her losing her parents in the span of a few minutes. But Nazli was young then and was easily mollified, yet now it seemed she was far out of reach.

A loud sigh of relief accidently escaped her when the doorbell rang. "That must be the food!" She exclaimed with fake glee that settled uncomfortably in the air before dissipating. Her cousin still hadn't moved and had it not been for the small ragged breaths she inhaled, Shahrazad would have seriously panicked.

"Salaam!" She greeted the hazel-eyed staff member, and moved herself out of the way as a silver trolley was pushed in. "I hope the chapshoro here tastes nice." But what Shahrazad hadn't expected was for the girl to remove the steel covering dome and the black clothes that lay on the platter. "Wha . . . excuse me?"

"Quiet now!" The girl hissed with a terrible urgency, her frightened eyes glancing towards the closed door as if a monster would suddenly reveal himself. "I did what I could - this was a request on such a short notice and- and -and just . . . just get dressed quickly!"

Nazli's interest roused and her green eyes focused sharply on the burkas. "W-What . . . is happening?" Her voice smooth like butter and calm in the face of danger relaxed the agitated staff girl.

"You are escaping, of course!" She lifted the burka and abaya and chucked one in Shahrazad's direction. "Hurry now - I didn't get paid to stand here and explain everything to you!"

Shahrazad threw the black cloth away from her as if it had scorched her hands. "Are you crazy? She is married and - and-!"

Her explanation was rudely interrupted when Nazli stood up and pulled the black cloth over her. Picking up the niqab, she tied it on her face so only her furious green eyes remained. For a few moments Shahrazad was struck by the determination that permeated from her meek cousin's being, but she wasn't going to go ahead with this reckless plan and get them both killed. Asadullah would never take this act of betrayal . . . well. In fact, they were pretty much signing their own death sentences here.

"Nazli! Have you lost it?" With a tug, she had snapped the niqab off her cousin's face just in time to see her mouth curl in dangerous anger. "Do you know what would happen if-"

"He'd . . . kill us." The callous words spoken with such casualness startled everyone in the room. "W-W-Would that be worse?"

Shahrazad ran a tongue over her dry lips. It suddenly seemed too cold in the room. "Of course that would be worse, Nazli! And you are married to him! Do you understand what that means?"

Emerald eyes clouded over with anguish at the remembrance of the terrible events. How drastically her life had changed and that too in a few moments. "I-I don't accept it." She whispered, although the truth of her sentiments had been lost in the depth of her dark thoughts. Throughout her childhood, she had been taught that a nikkah was the biggest obligation upon a man and a woman, but what of a nikkah that she had been coerced into. Was it even valid?

The girl who had been tasked at helping them defect trembled like a leaf. Her phone pinged with a message and her eyes grew in size. "It's now or never. There is no time!" With an urgency, she threw open the door and stuck her head outside. Nazli and Shahrazad stood watching her - their breathing seemingly too loud despite the noisy bustling city outside.

With a motion of her index finger, she beckoned them to follow her. Nazli passed a glance to her cousin who for once seemed exactly what she had tried all this time to hide. Shahrazad was a little girl - someone who was suddenly forced into her older cousin's tumultuous and ugly fate. She didn't deserve this. "Shah-razad . . ." The name sounded beautiful on her tongue - more beautiful than anything she had uttered in the last few hours.

"C-come with me . . . for the last time." When confusion began to betray her cousin's emotions, Nazli swallowed thickly. Speaking was still . . . painful. "Once we . . . are o-out. Y-You can go back t-to Baba Zaman."

For a few moments, a pregnant silence carried in the air, but the tapping and urgency of the housekeeping girl's footsteps sprung Shahrazad into action. Grabbing her cousin's niqab that had fallen to the side, she stepped closer and tied it around her face. "Like hell am I leaving you!"

Then she proceeded to don herself in the black burqa until only soft, affectionate blue eyes lulled Nazli's raging heart into peace. "We don't need anyone, except Allah in this journey of ours! We don't need the village to cut our wings nor do we need the assistance of a wannabe mafia group to help us achieve our goals! We are enough for each other!"

And with a tug, she clasped her cold hand tightly to her cousin's equally cold one. Two village girls against the world. Could it get any more adventurous? And with that positive thought, Shahrazad and Nazli stepped into . . . hell.

Leaving you guys with some deep reflections please read below.

Through my story I want to portray two sides of each character. Through this story I want to show my readers that no one is ever truly a saint or a devil. Even Satan was once a saint and even prophets made mistakes before Allah swt's guidance was revealed to them. We must keep an open mind when we analyse a person and be mindful to not have a black and white approach when it comes to judging someone's character.

Asadullah is perhaps the worst character I have written, but that is simply because so many aspects of his life remain a mystery. Is he truly the monster from Nazli's dreams?

I