Elysian

pronounced: ih-LEE-zhuhn

A place once believed to be paradise,
Where love bloomed without end.
But sometimes, even paradise
hides a storm.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

She thought she could escape. She thought she can change this but silly her she have to face the consequence. Every action have a reaction, and her action have to face this reaction.

She wasn't alone. She knew that.

Someone—no, they—knew she was running.

And the car… it was still following her.

Silent. Stalking.

Like it enjoyed the chase. Her clean scented shirt which was beautiful a while ago is now mixed with dirt and mud, she was running THE HUNGER OF SURVIVAL made her run towards the life.

She glanced back once. The same car—the one she hated, that deep red wine shade that haunted her memories—was now crawling down the dirt path. She didn't know if it was just him and she don't want to believe that it was him. Her legs pushed harder. Faster. But fate was quicker.

The car lunged forward, hitting her—not hard enough to break her, it was for the pleasure the people inside the car want to take pleasure after seeing her hurt, after seeing her in pain the large evil smile came on their face. This hit is strong enough to tear the skin of her knee. She cried out but didn't stop. Couldn't. The hunger to survival kept her moving, even as blood trickled down her leg, even as the world spun with dizziness.

But survival was greedy.

The car struck again. This time, harder. She hit the ground with a sickening thud, her head smacking against the cold earth. Pain exploded in her skull. The smell… it filled her nose.

That sickening, metallic scent she loathed more than anything.

Blood. Her blood. She stared at the crimson pooling beneath her, leaking from her scalp, her legs, her hands. The color, the scent—it made her sick. She gagged, her body shaking violently, trying to crawl, trying to breathe.

Maybe she deserved this. Maybe this was punishment. She had made the mistake. She fell in love. And love, she learned, was cruel. Loving him wasn't the crime—believing him was.

But somewhere in that pain, in that betrayal, something inside her rose again. That same hunger. That desperate desire to not die here. Not like this.

She forced herself up on stumbling feet, dragging her body through mud and weeds. Her lungs screamed, her heart thudded like a war drum in her ears. She ran until the trees broke open, revealing the old wooden bridge.

She hesitated.

The bridge was fragile. Rotting. But she knew the car couldn't follow her here. It was her only chance.

She started across it, feet slipping on the wet, moss-covered wood. But before she could make it far, the sound of the car doors slamming made her freeze. Infront of her the dark broken bridge was waiting for her. She could run and go in another world the SAFE WORLD.

But will she able to go this far?

Universe was never with her and today also the same thing repeat. Universe will not help her, she have to face it or she have to run away from it. She have to choose. Will she able to take right decision???

She turned around.

They had arrived.

From behind the car stepped two figures. One—towering, calculated, cruel in presence. The other—elegance personified. The woman walked like she owned the night, the sky, even the fear in the air. The scent she wore drifted toward the bridge—SHUMUKH, the most exquisite fragrance ever created. It clung to her like silk, like poison laced in flowers. Her lipstick was dark wine, cracked slightly at the corners, yet flawless. She wore a long bodycon dress, stitched down one side, the other undone just enough to reveal the pistol strapped to her thigh. Dangerous. Beautiful. Seductive in the most lethal way.

And there, across the broken bridge, stood the bleeding girl. Pale. Shaking. Her body painted in red and mud, her eyes flooded with terror. She could barely keep herself standing, yet her trembling lips managed to form words. "P-p-please… I… I don't know anything… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

The wind carried her stuttered pleas into the trees. And then came the laughter. Low. Cruel. Echoing like a curse across the sky. "Leave you?" the man said, his voice smooth, venomous. "No way. You're beautiful, I'll give you that. But beauty without sense? That's just a pretty bomb waiting to explode. You see… beauty with brains? That's dangerous. That's what you are. And I don't like danger."

The woman now stood at the edge of the bridge, pistol no longer on her thigh—it was in her hand. Her face was partially hidden beneath a half-mask. Only her lips and the curve of her cheek were visible. It looked like they had just stepped out of a masquerade, not a murder scene.

The gun didn't shake.

The shot didn't hesitate.

The crack of the bullet sliced through the dawn.

The girl collapsed. Her knees gave out, body crumpling on the old wood. The broken bridge couldn't save her—it never could. Her weight dragged her down. She slipped between the gaps, plunging into the water below.

The impact stole her breath. The chill stole her strength. Blood poured from her body, painting the water red. The same color she hated. The same scent that followed her into every nightmare.

And in her last moments, drifting deeper into the cold dark…

She whispered, barely above the waves, "I loved you...Rayyan and I still lo…love you… I'm sorry… for everything…"The blood kept flowing.

The water turned crimson.

And she—SHE FUCKING HATED IT.

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⎛⎝ ≽ > ⩊ < ≼ ⎠⎞

🌸✨ Author's Note ✨🌸

If you've made it this far, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

This chapter was a piece of my soul—soft, broken, healing, all at once.

🕊️ Which part of the chapter touched you the most?

I'd love to know your thoughts. Drop a comment and let me feel your heartbeat through your words. 🖤

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📸

Let's stay connected beyond these pages—Follow me on Instagram for more story updates, behind-the-scenes, and writing vibes:📸

Your support means the world—it keeps my pen bleeding ink and emotion.

Until next chapter,

—Mrs. Khan

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