The Weight of Blood and Choices
The restaurant was filled with laughter and conversation as Wick, Nick, Shristi, Varsha, Deep, Annu, Kritika, Dev, and Dipanshu gathered for dinner. Plates clattered, and the warmth of camaraderie surrounded them. But suddenly, Wick's expression twisted in discomfort. He abruptly stood up, his chair scraping against the floor, and rushed toward the washroom.
Nick and Shristi exchanged worried glances before hurrying after him.
Inside, Wick was leaning over the sink, his body shaking as he gagged and vomited violently. His face was pale, and his breathing was ragged.
Shristi stepped forward, concern etched on her face. "Wick! What's wrong?"
Nick placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice calm but firm. "It's garlic. He's allergic to it."
Shristi's eyes widened in realization. "Then why did he eat it?"
Nick sighed. "He probably didn't notice. It happens sometimes." He looked at Wick, who was gripping the sink tightly, trying to regain his composure. "You good now?"
Wick took a deep breath, splashed cold water on his face, and straightened up. "Yeah. Just... give me a minute."
Nick turned to Shristi. "Let's go back. He'll be fine."
Shristi hesitated but nodded reluctantly. As they returned to the table, Annu smirked. "Oh? Running after Wick like that, huh?"
Shristi scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Shut up."
Annu chuckled. "I'm just saying. That was some reaction."
Shristi tried to ignore the heat rising to her face.
---
A Week Later – The Attack
The night air was crisp, the streetlights casting long shadows as Shristi walked alone. She sensed it before she saw them—the figures lurking in the darkness, waiting.
Sam's friends.
She clenched her fists. She had been attacked before, but this time, she wasn't going to back down.
A man lunged at her. She stepped aside swiftly, landing a powerful strike to his ribs. He gasped, stumbling back. Another came at her, but she twisted, dodging his punch and countering with a sharp kick to his knee. He collapsed with a grunt.
Three more surrounded her. She fought fiercely, her body moving on instinct, but the numbers began to overwhelm her.
Then she heard the unmistakable roar of a motorcycle engine.
A smirk spread across her face.
The men turned just in time to see Wick's GT 650 screech to a halt. His piercing gaze locked onto them, unreadable yet deadly. Without a word, he stepped off his bike, and the moment his boots touched the ground, Sam's friends ran for their lives.
Except one.
The leader, desperate, grabbed Shristi's younger brother, pulling a knife to his throat.
"Stay back!" he shouted. "Or I swear—"
He never got to finish.
Wick's movements were fluid, precise. He was on him in an instant. The knife clattered to the ground, and in the struggle, Wick drove his own blade into the man's chest.
Everything stilled.
Thunder rolled across the sky. Rain began to pour, drenching them.
Shristi's brother stood frozen, wide-eyed.
Wick looked at his bloodied hands. He exhaled, steady. No regret. No hesitation.
"Run," he ordered.
The boy obeyed.
Wick dropped the knife beside the lifeless body and disappeared into the night.
---
The Gathering – Wick's Decision
Wick called everyone to his flat—Nick, Deep, Dev, Dipanshu, Annu, and Vivaan. The air was thick with tension as he recounted what had happened.
Shristi arrived last, breathless. She looked at Wick, eyes searching his face, then simply said, "Thank you."
There was something different in her voice, in her gaze. Something that made Nick glance between them, a knowing look in his eyes.
"We'll figure something out," Shristi insisted. "You don't have to face this alone."
Nick nodded. "We can handle this."
But Wick shook his head. His voice was calm, detached. "I only want to enjoy a few days before I get arrested. And I'm not running."
"You didn't do anything wrong," Deep argued. "It was self-defense!"
Wick's eyes flickered, and for the first time, they saw it—the darkness settling within him. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
"Oh, is that so?" His voice dropped, cold and unyielding. "Do you think I regret it?"
The room fell silent.
Wick's lips curled into a bitter smirk. "Naah. He deserved it."
A chill ran down their spines.
For two days, Wick acted as if nothing had happened. He laughed, drank, rode his bike through the city. But the others carried the weight of what had transpired.
---
The Ultimate Sacrifice
Then Vivaan went missing.
Evening fell, and his friends—Joe and Justin—arrived with grim expressions.
"He's not kidnapped," Justin said.
Nick frowned. "Then where is he?"
Joe swallowed hard. "He sacrificed himself."
The room erupted in confusion and denial.
"What the hell do you mean?" Wick demanded, voice sharp.
Joe met his gaze. "Sam took him. He said if Vivaan didn't go willingly, they'd come for you instead."
Shristi's breath hitched. "No… No, that's not true!"
Wick's hands clenched into fists. His jaw tightened. "Why the hell would he do that?"
Justin's voice was quiet but firm. "Because you got involved while saving Shristi."
Silence.
Then Wick turned on his heel and stormed out.
Shristi followed.
"We have to find him," she pleaded.
Wick didn't look at her. "I will."
And he did. He searched city after city, every chance he got.
---
One Month Later –
They stood under the pale glow of a streetlamp. Wick's motorcycle was beside him, his helmet resting against the handlebar.
Shristi stepped closer. "We'll find him."
Wick exhaled, rubbing his temples. "You need to stop searching."
Shristi crossed her arms. "Even if I do… you won't." She paused. "And besides… I don't want to lose him."
Wick looked at her then—really looked at her. For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes.
Then he turned away, kicking up the engine of his GT 650.
As the sound of his bike echoed into the night, Shristi watched him disappear into the darkness.
And deep down, she knew—no matter what happened next, they were both chasing ghosts.
To be continued...