Mag-log inLinda climbed the stairs nimbly, though tension gripped her every move. Ahead of her, Shady hurried up, his footsteps echoing against the narrow walls of the stairwell. Her breathing grew heavier with each step, and her eyes darted about as if chasing a ghost that had just slipped out of sight.Between uneven breaths, she said,"I left her downstairs..." Shady glanced back without slowing down and replied curtly as he continued upwards,"No, I saw her before we left... She was on the third floor."At that moment, Malik was following behind, his steps slow and deliberate, as if he didn't really want to reach the top. Meanwhile, Linda hurried upwards, propelled by an unseen, strange force.Shady stopped at the bottom of the second floor, turned to her, and said in a steady tone,"She's on the third floor." Linda nodded quickly and continued climbing, taking two steps at a time, afraid of losing even a second. Shadi followed her, while Malik came behind them, his heavy, steady footsteps e
The black car was still parked in the same spot it had occupied since morning. Inside, Malik, Daniel, Dima, and Magda Rovan sat silently, their eyes fixed on the villa with tense anticipation. The midday heat had subsided slightly, but the tension inside the car burned hotter than ever.The silence was broken by the sound of a small red car pulling up in front of the villa's gate. Inside sat a young man and woman—elegantly dressed, their faces composed and confident.The guards opened the gate immediately, without hesitation, as if they knew the visitors well. The car rolled inside, and the gate closed firmly once more. The guards resumed their posts, weapons at hand, their mere presence enough to send chills through anyone who passed.Inside, the red car stopped at the villa's grand entrance. Stepping in was Shadi Ramzi, the hairdresser known for his forced smile and overly polished style, and beside him, Linda Saber, his silent assistant—her face as cold and expressionless as carved
Inside the roomThe room was bathed in trembling shadows cast by a yellow lamp. Masks lay scattered on the table—silent faces watching, witnessing, but saying nothing. Malik stood before them, examining each one with strange precision, as if reading the spirits trapped behind their hollow eyes. He lifted a mask, placed it against his own face, looked in the mirror, then slowly removed it to try on the next… until he stopped at the woman’s mask.With deliberate calm, he approached Magda, lifted the mask, and pressed it gently—then firmly—against her face until it molded to her skin. His voice came low, carrying both persuasion and a strange, dark tenderness:This mask will make you stronger…stronger in ways you cannot undo. There are paths we take from which there is no turning back—but sometimes, we must walk them to the end. Let the fear go. "Let me help you accept who you've become." Magda stood motionless, as if under a silent spell. Her breath quickened, her hands trembled. Around
NightMalik’s car stopped on the street, a few meters from the minister’s villa, enveloped by the shadows of the trees and the heavy night. The dim yellow lights from the streetlights cast broken lines on the ground, their reflections dancing across the car as if watching everyone come and go.Malik sat behind the wheel, wearing a mask of deceit, his eyes scanning every movement, every light, every shadow. Beside him sat Daniel, wearing a mask of happiness, silently observing Malik’s reactions. In the back seat, Dima and Rovan sat behind their prosthetic masks, waiting for instructions, their eyes taking in every small detail with alertness.In front of the villa’s gate, the guards paced back and forth. The bodyguards carried heavy automatic weapons, their arms taut, their eyes sharp, missing nothing. The sound of their footsteps on the pavement echoed like the heartbeat of the night, while the reflections of their flashlights danced off the metal gate, adding to the tension and the s
DaylightThe light filtered weakly through the curtains, as if afraid to touch anything inside.Malik, wearing his Heshmat mask, stood facing the calendar pinned to the living room wall. His gaze was fixed on the page that read, in clear handwriting:Saturday 11/10/2025.Below the date was a small, solemn phrase—almost like a moral reminder etched into his conscience:"It is forbidden to take an innocent human life."Malik stared at the inscription for a long moment. Then, slowly, he reached out and tore the page from the calendar. His hand gripped it until it crumbled, as if crushing the weight of his sins.He took a deep breath, turned away from the wall, and walked to the door.He opened it and stepped out with deliberate resolve. Behind him followed Daniel, wearing a happy mask, then Dima, her face hidden behind the mask of an unknown girl—the one whose image he had ripped from the depths of the internet. Finally came Rovan, her mask resembling another lifeless girl, as if from a
A dim light illuminated Awatif's room, the curtains half-drawn, with evening shadows creeping along the walls. Fouad El-Shenawy stood behind the door, taking slow, deliberate breaths before knocking gently. His voice was quiet, but heavy with concern:Fouad: Hello. May I come in?Awatif: Hello, Dad.He opened the door and entered, his gaze quickly scanning every corner of the room, as if his mind was preoccupied with matters far beyond a simple visit. Awatif sat up on the bed, clasping her hands together, her eyes reflecting a mixture of nervousness and slight fear.Fouad (still softly): Why did you want to go out at this hour?Awatif (sighing, lowering her head slightly): I was going to see my friend, nothing more.Fouad offered a faint smile, though his eyes remained alert. He went up to her, his hand reaching out to gently touch her shoulder.Fouad: You must understand, my dear, I'm worried about you. I can't let you go out at this time, no matter what. Awatif (quietly, with quiet
Sami Fahmy entered his apartment reluctantly, each step heavy as if the weight of fear pressed against his chest. The air inside felt suffocating, and the silence echoed faintly, like whispers reminding him of the events outside.He approached his bedroom door slowly, pausing his hand on the handle
Malik heard General Kemal thanking the hotel staff, followed by the monotonous click of the door closing.Two simple sounds—yet they cleaved the silence in two like a signal. Something shifted in the air; the stillness began to tremble.Malik rose slowly, as if silencing an internal clock before ma
– General Hisham's office (morning, inside the Ministry of Interior building)The aroma of coffee mingled with the rising cigarette smoke, forming a thin veil of gray mist within the spacious office.General Hisham sat beside General Kamal al-Desouki on a wide leather sofa. Both men looked tired, y
General Hisham sat behind his desk, his expression stern. A knock on the door announced the arrival of an officer, who entered and stood before him, holding a file."This is the report you requested, sir," the officer said.Hisham opened the file slowly, his eyes sharp as he scanned its contents. I







