Shadows Of Wrath

Days after Karn walked away from his team, the country buzzed with a single headline—an unidentified lone warrior had decimated a terrorist cell, taking down over fifty armed extremists in a violent, blood-soaked rescue mission. The story flooded every news channel, yet no one knew who the masked executioner was. No one suspected the quiet boy who had recently walked away from a classified military unit team. No one looked twice at the teen who now roamed the streets like a shadow among the living.

A few days later, Karn found himself lost in thought, the events of the past still fresh in his mind. Everyone believed that what had happened had taken place behind his back—that he had no idea. But the truth was, Karn had known everything.

He had known every single move Ruchika made.

He simply hadn’t cared.

Truth be told, if Aaryan had just come to him directly, without playing dirty politics—if he had simply said, “Karn, I want to be the leader”—Karn would’ve handed it over without hesitation. Because Aaryan wasn’t just a teammate to him.

He was his brother.

And Karn held no anger toward Rohit either. Deep down, he understood—Rohit had been scared. Ruchika and Aaryan had threatened him, told him he’d be thrown off the team if he didn’t play along. What could he do? He was cornered, manipulated. Karn knew Rohit would never give up trying to make things right. That was just who he was. Loyal. Stubborn. And Karn respected that.

But what broke him—what truly shattered him—was Kavya.The girl he’d grown up with. The one who knew him better than anyone else.How could she walk away?

Karn had always seen her as more than just a friend. And he knew—he was sure—that Kavya had feelings for him too, no matter how quiet they both had been about it.So when the vote came to induct that new hacker into the team, and Kavya, too, backed away—when she didn’t vote for Bhupesh, but also didn’t vote for him—it wasn’t a betrayal.

It was abandonment.

She hadn’t even needed to say anything. Her silence was enough.That final thread of hope Karn had been clinging to snapped.And it didn’t break him into anger.It broke him into something worse—numbness.He couldn’t even bring himself to cry. Not anymore. The people he had called his family had let go of his hand and left him completely alone.The same people he had lifted to glory.The same team he had bled for.He had taken them from nothing to a level where even seasoned professionals wouldn’t dare to compete. Teenagers feared their name. Professionals respected it.And now?Now he was just... discarded.

These thoughts played on a loop in his mind as he walked through the desert, the same endless landscape stretching before him. Each step forward echoed like a heartbeat in a vacuum. Dry, lifeless, silent.“Some family,” he muttered under his breath, kicking sand aside as he moved.He thought of Ruchika—the clever games, the calculated lies. And yet, a bitter smile touched his lips.

“I saw through all of it,” he whispered. “Every damn move.”He thought of Aaryan, the desperation in his eyes masked behind arrogance. “If you’d just said the words, Aaryan… I would’ve given it to you. I wanted you to lead someday.”He thought of Rohit—the hesitation, the guilt in his eyes that day. Karn never blamed him. And Karn also didn’t blame Kavya. Deep down, he knew that her silence was hurting her more than him, but for the sake of her position on the team, she didn’t say a word.“You were just scared, Rohit. I get it,” he murmured.

But then his voice hardened.

“And Kavya…”He stopped walking.The sun beat down on him, but he didn’t move. Just stood there, eyes glazed.“You knew me,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “You knew what that vote meant. And you still stepped back.”He swallowed hard, the ache in his chest rising.“You were supposed to be the one who stayed.”No tears came. Only the dry burn behind his eyes, the weight pressing into his ribs like stone.“You said we were more than teammates,” he said quietly. “More than friends…”The silence around him answered with nothing but wind.So Karn kept walking. The desert stretched before him like an endless punishment—but he didn’t stop. Because ahead of him, he sensed something. Something wrong. A ripple in the stillness. A disturbance that would change everything. He didn’t look back. He never would again.

The desert was dead quiet. Too quiet. As the wind shifted, he caught something—a ripple in the sand, like light bending unnaturally. His eyes narrowed, instincts prickling."What the hell is that?" he muttered, his voice low, dry from the heat.He veered toward it, boots crunching over the scorching grains. The closer he got, the more unnatural it felt. Then he saw it: a small ventilation pipe half-buried in the sand, faint heat radiating from it. Kneeling down, he brushed away more sand to reveal a camouflaged steel hatch—locked from the inside.

His pulse quickened.

A hidden base.Within minutes, he found another entry point—one not sealed shut. A maintenance shaft, likely forgotten. He slid in without hesitation, descending into darkness. Karn didn’t carry a flashlight. He didn’t need one. The darkness was home.Inside, the world shifted from desert silence to tense, controlled noise. Voices echoed faintly through the metallic corridors. He crouched low, listening.“…tell the government if they don’t meet our demands in the next 24 hours, we start executing hostages.”Karn’s breath stilled. Hostages.He moved, a shadow among shadows, hugging the walls and slipping past open doors. The base was larger than expected—dozens of rooms, tunnels, storage areas, and at its heart, a command chamber filled with monitors and weapon caches.

He found the prisoners in a large, dimly lit room. About twenty civilians sat against the walls, wrists zip-tied, fear etched into every line on their faces. Around them, armed men paced with twitchy fingers and heavy boots. The leader stood in the center, barking orders.“If anyone tries to be a hero, we kill them all!”One of the captives, a man no older than thirty, mumbled something Karn couldn’t hear.“What did you say?” the leader snapped, storming over.The man didn’t answer. A mistake.The terrorist backhanded him so hard he hit the ground.“You want to die first?” he yelled. Then he kicked the man in the ribs. Hard. The sickening crack echoed.Karn watched, silent fury simmering in his chest. His fingers twitched, itching to strike—but not yet.Not yet.

Retreating into the shadows, not because of fear, he began to map the layout. Supply room—stocked with crates of AKs, grenades, tactical gear. Control room—isolated, but unsecured. Barracks—nearly empty; most of them were likely guarding the prisoners. He could use that.He started with the control room, moving like a phantom. The lone guard never saw him coming—Karn snapped his neck silently and caught the body before it hit the floor. Within moments, the comms were offline, cameras disabled, power rerouted.“No one’s calling for help,” Karn whispered.

In the supply room, he chose his tools: explosives small enough to carry but powerful enough to obliterate the armory, and a katana mounted on the wall—likely taken as a trophy. It was polished, razor-sharp.He unsheathed it halfway. The steel glinted.“Old-school,” he murmured, lips curling in the ghost of a smirk. “But you’ll do.”He planted the charges, timing them carefully. As he walked away, he didn’t look back.The explosion rocked the entire base.Fire licked through the corridors, smoke and chaos pouring through the ventilation systems. Screams erupted—some in pain, some in confusion. Karn moved like a spirit of vengeance, face hidden behind a black mask.The massacre began.

He struck fast—clean, brutal. One man raised a weapon. Too late. Karn’s blade lopped off his hand, then drove through his chest. Another rushed from the side—Karn ducked, spun, and his blade cut the man in half at the waist. Blood sprayed the walls. A third tried to run. Karn caught him by the collar, slammed his head into the wall hard enough to crack the concrete. He collapsed in a heap, skull split open.He didn’t speak.He didn’t scream.He just killed.Some begged.“Please! I have a family!”“I surrender!”Karn’s eyes were cold beneath the mask. They’d used civilians as pawns. Their pleas meant nothing now.He moved relentlessly, each strike surgically precise. Arms severed, throats slashed, spines shattered under his bare fists. Blood ran in rivers across the floors. Some of them tried to flee. None made it past him.

Then—without warning—it happened.A civilian stumbled into the chaos. His shirt soaked in blood, his arms raised. Karn didn’t register him fast enough. Instinct took over. The katana flashed.And then—silence.The man’s head hit the ground, rolling.Karn froze mid-motion, breath caught in his chest.“No…” he whispered, lowering the blade. The mask slid from his face as he knelt beside the corpse. “Shit… no… no…”His hands shook.He touched the man’s face, as if he could undo what had happened. But the eyes were already glassy. Empty.“I didn’t mean to…” Karn muttered. “I didn’t want this. Not like this.”A sob crawled up his throat, but he crushed it.

He stood. There were still terrorists breathing. He had no right to cry—not yet.He moved again, this time slower. Not with rage, but with something colder. A grim duty. One by one, he hunted down the remaining survivors of terrorists, and put them down without a word.

When it was done, he returned to the hostages. They stared at him like he was death itself.“I’m here to help,” he said simply, cutting their restraints.They followed him in silence, still unsure if they were rescued or taken by another monster. He led them to the garage, pointed at the remaining vehicles.“Drive. Go straight north. Highway’s 35 kilometers away.”One man lingered. “Who are you?”Karn looked at him for a long moment, then turned without a word and vanished into the shadows.

Hours later, he stood alone in the wreckage. Smoke curled around him, the scent of blood thick in the air. The flames behind him painted his silhouette in orange and crimson. He didn’t look at the bodies. He didn’t have to. They were burned into his mind.But one haunted him.One he couldn’t forgive.

That night, he called home. His voice cracked as he spoke.“Mom… Dad… can we move?”His mother’s voice trembled. “Karn? Are you okay? What happened?”“I just… I need to leave. I don’t belong here anymore.”A long silence. Then his father spoke.“Alright, son. Wherever you want.”No questions. They packed their lives into boxes and vanished like they’d never existed. New city. New house. New school.Karn enrolled in Class 11, where no one knew him. No one looked into his eyes long enough to see the storm. He kept his head down. Gave polite smiles. Answered when called.But every night, he woke up in a cold sweat, the image of that civilian's face staring back at him. He had saved dozens—but one mistake defined him.Now he was just a shadow.The quiet boy with the fake smile.

And the bloodstained past he couldn’t outrun.

To Be Continued...