Warning: 18+

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"People do bad things under bad circumstances, that doesn't make them bad people"

That's what Meerab assured herself as she ran towards the railway station, her black burqa restricting her movements, she looked behind and could see them closing in on her.

She had no other choice but to run, nothing else made sense. There was chaos. Her life was an utter chaos. She shouldn't be dealing with this, she was just a child. Meerab wanted to crawl in her grandmother's arms and cry her heart out.

But sadly she wasn't here to cradle her in her arms and tell her everything was gonna be alright. She saw a large rock around the corner and she picked it up.

Turning around she warned the men who were running after her, "Agar paas aaye toh Allah kasam sabka sar phod dungi".

The men stopped and her uncle came forward, "Bawli hogayi hai kya Meerab?"

They crept closer so she threw the rock, "Haan hogayi hu bawli".

A wave of guilt hit her as she heard one of them scream as the rock hit them, she didn't look back. She had to run faster, discarding the burqa she pushed her body to run faster than before. She tried to make a left turn but was met with a loss.

It was a dead end, there was a wall.

"I have to climb the wall"

She tied the dupatta around her hip and stepped on the brick that was sticking out the wall. The ends of her shalwar got stuck so she pulled at it leading to a tear, Meerab didn't care as this was the fifth time she ran away.

As she climbed up someone caught her leg, pullng her to the ground. She fell into the puddle of water with a splash.

The dirty water smeared her face making her hair stick to it as she glared at her uncle, "Chal gaadi mai baith".

She sat in the car,.she was dragged into the haveli and thrown at her phuphi's foot. The old woman named Razia looked at her and spat out, "Itne mushkil se dulhe ko raazi kiya tha, ab kon karega tujhse nikkah? Bata?"

She pulling her head up so they were at eye level, there were tears in Meerab's eyes. But the laugh that came out next suprised them, "Aapko kya lagta hai, mai aisehi kisiki bhi hojaongi?"

"Mai apni marzi ke bina kuch nahi karti, aur agar ap logon ne zabardasti mera nikkah karne ki koshish ki toh sabse pehle aapke khaaney m zeher milaungi".

Razia picked up her shoes, and striked her, "Kya boli?"

Meerab tried to crawl away, but she was caught by her uncle, as the old woman hit her.

"Mujhe maaregi?"

"Mere khaaney me zeher milayegi".

"Teri ye jurrat?" She dragged her by the hair, the rage taking over as she hit her. Her face marred by the strikes, but Meerab was used to this. Having been hit since she was fifteen, "Naam bata jiske saath bhaagi thi".

Her mouth remained shut, as she got hit on her face by a slap, her lips busting.

"Mar jaongi magar naam nahi bataungi", the rain from the cracked ceiling fell on her face. The crazy look in her eyes, drove Razia crazier.

"Nahi batayegi?"

The beating continued every slap making her will stronger, she couldn't reveal the name of the man whom she loved since she was a kid.

"Sher hai woh sher, jis din saamne aaya aap sab ulte pao bhaagogey".

The young girl laughed as the woman, continued to hit her, she knew one day she would reach him. She couldn't marry another man, because she has his.

When did the love began?

Meerab had no idea when, she loved a man whom she had never met. Maybe it was because she had never received love in her life, that his name alone gave her the strength.

Her phupho was breathing loudly now, exhausted, her hands on her chest as if she was about to die. "Agar phirse bhaagi toh tujhe kissi Mad'am ko saunp dungi. Waise bhi teri chal dhallan shuru se theek nahi hai, manhus s**li"

She kicked Meerab one last time. And they left, Meerab sat in the courtyard her eyes shedding tears. Her brown eyes looking up at the stars, as she uttered the name of the man her heart belonged to.

"Murtasim Khan"

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He was a dark and handsome man in a black suit. His starched white shirt was set off by a burgundy tie and a matching handkerchief. A female mind could classify him as a rake, a bit devilish in an appealing sort of way. He had attracted a group of women around him, who seemed to hang on to his every word.

The ash on his Davidoff cigar was about to flake and fall on the expensive carpet, but he did not seem to care. Slowly and stylishly, he raised a glass of Scotch to his mouth. Instead of taking a drink, he merely touched the vessel to his lips below his well-groomed moustache. His eyes glittered like those of a cobra ready to strike. He relished his ability to mesmerize this elite female company. He was the kind of man who could choose his place at the dinner table, and he chose to sit directly across his victim.

They made small talk across the salt cellars. His words did not hold her, but his eyes had her riveted. They grew lustrous, they glittered and blinked rather frequently, they peered across the table at her hypnotically. Their message was far from subtle. The woman was drawn like a moth to a flame.

After dinner, he adjourned to a sitting room for cognac and liqueurs. As he drained the last of his Napoleon brandy, three men moved at once to replenish it. He rolled his cigar in practiced fingers and, the very moment he lifted it toward his lips, a cigar-cutter appeared. When it was snipped and ready, six lighters flicked open. Murtasim took this deference in his stride. The women drank it in.

His rugged good looks and piercing gaze made him irresistible to women. His confidence and self-assuredness were evident in every move he made.

He was a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it.

When he reached his room late at night, he saw his victim lying there, Mrs Hena Chaudhary wife of the governor in just her underwear. Her legs raised in an arc and her eyes met him, "I am sorry all the rooms were occupied, so I had no other option".

The saree she wore was neatly folded and sat on the bedside table.

His lips curved the scar that ran from his right eyebrow to his left cheek rising with his facial movement. The woman was fascinated by it but didn't mention it.

He gazed at her intensely and his lips curved up.

"What about your husband?"

The woman's eyes glinted with desire and mischief, "Do you think I care about him?"

She pulled him by his tie, her curly hair making her look wild with the lusty eyes, there was an edge to his voice, "Why did you marry him?"

She shrugged, "That oldie is rich but he lacks vigour, I have to fake my orgasms half the time. His penis is the size of a pencil, and he gets done within a few minutes" as she rolled on the sheet, making space for him Murtasim jumped on the bed, so that he was inches away from hers, "What makes you think I have a larger one?"

"I am forty-five and have seen and ridden quite a few. I can detect someone's size by looking at their face", she said twisting her curls with her index finger, as Murtasim lay still above her.

She pulled him by the tie and bit his lips, her black eyes trying to read his, "How much money do you want? I can buy you the world".

That hurt his ego.

Burnt his soul. His lusty eyes were now filled with rage.

"I don't need your money...", he replied in a deathly calm voice.

"If not money then what are you after?" She asked sitting up now and gazing at the handsome man as he removed his coat and threw it on the ground. Hina knew no man as young and handsome as him would want her without a reason.

"I want you to murder your husband", he said passing her plastic filled with powder casually. Her eyes widened as she stuttered, "What- what's this?"

"Arsenic", he removed his belt, rolled it slowly and placed it on the table. He removed his shoes, and socks placing them in the shoe rack properly. Murtasim's room was organised and clean, unlike his intentions.

"The poison works slowly, nobody would know, it was you. Trust me", he said removing his pants, Hina looked at the arsenic and then at the devil giving her a choice. The devil was seducing her, his dark black eyes intense as he waited for her expectantly.

The nervousness vanished when he unbuttoned his shirt, she was lured into his trap. He stood at the end of the bed, gazing at her as she crawled towards him, removing his boxers and letting his cock free. It stood proudly, the devil offered her the forbidden apple and she tasted it.

"I was right", the woman said looking at his length proudly, she grabbed him, stroked him and then put her lips on it to start pleasing him so he can scream her name with pleasure.

The woman rode him, screaming his name as his length reached her insides. Her eyes widened as his length caressed parts of her body that were unexplored, he was enticing her, trapping her as she trembled above him her wild hair acting like a blanket around them.

Another victim fell to the charms of the Khan. He was the king of the jungle, and he knew it.