The Fall That Didn’t End Him
Vikram Rao didn’t scream when Anika lunged.
He smiled.
At the last second, he stepped aside.
Anika’s momentum carried her forward—too far, too fast. She caught the railing with one hand, pain tearing through her shoulder as her body slammed hard against the steel. Thirty-two floors below, the city waited, indifferent.
Vikram grabbed her wrist.
Not to save her.
“To show you something,” he said, breathless now, human at last.
He pulled her back just enough so she wouldn’t fall.
“Look around,” he whispered. “This chaos? I built systems that survive chaos.”
Police lights flashed below. Helicopters hovered. The Rao empire was burning in public, yes—but Vikram Rao was still standing.
“You killed my mother,” Anika said, her voice hollow.
Vikram’s eyes flickered. “She chose death.”
That was it.
The last thread snapped.
Anika headbutted him.
Hard.
Vikram stumbled back, blood bursting from his nose. He recovered fast—too fast—and punched her square in the ribs. Pain exploded through her chest, but she stayed on her feet.
They fought like animals.
No elegance.
No speeches.
Just fists, breath, blood.
Anika bit him when he tried to choke her. He slammed her head into the concrete. Stars burst behind her eyes, but she didn’t stop.
“You think you’re justice?” Vikram snarled. “You’re just another weapon.”
“Maybe,” Anika gasped. “But weapons end wars.”
She drove her knee into his stomach. Vikram doubled over, coughing violently. She grabbed his collar and dragged him toward the edge.
For the first time, fear entered his eyes.
“You won’t,” he said. “You’re not like me.”
Anika looked down at the city.
At the lives already lost.
At her mother’s last smile.
At her father’s blood written into walls.
“No,” she said softly. “I’m worse.”
She pushed him.
Vikram Rao fell.
His scream cut through the night until it didn’t.
The impact was distant. Final.
Anika stood at the edge, shaking—not from regret, but from the sudden silence inside her.
Minutes later, hands grabbed her from behind.
Police.
Guns.
Shouting.
Orders.
She didn’t resist.
As they dragged her away, a senior officer leaned close and whispered, “You think this makes you free?”
Anika met his eyes.
“No,” she said. “It makes me finished.”
Three days later, the world changed.
Governments fell.
Accounts were frozen.
Names vanished overnight.
The Rao empire collapsed like a rotten spine.
Leela survived—but barely. A bullet grazed her spine. She would never field-operate again.
She visited Anika once.
Through thick glass.
“You did it,” Leela said quietly.
Anika stared at the floor. “I lost everything.”
Leela nodded. “That’s the price.”
As Leela stood to leave, she hesitated. “There’s something you should know.”
Anika looked up.
“Your father,” Leela continued, “knew he would die. He recorded everything. Gave us time to prepare.” Her voice softened. “He didn’t fail, Anika.”
She slid a small audio player through the slot.
“He planned for you to survive.”
That night, alone in her cell, Anika pressed play.
Her father’s voice filled the room.
If you’re hearing this, it means I’m gone. And you’re alive. That’s enough.
Tears slid silently down her face.
Do not become me. Do not become them. Become the end.
Anika closed her eyes.
For the first time since the cupboard.
Since the blood.
Since the lies—
She slept.
No comments:
Post a Comment