Shadow of evil

Disclaimer: arabic is my first language so forgive me for any minor mistakes.

The story contains some sensitive content .

"We are running out of time and we

have a new member to introduce.". Said Fouad, the head of the treatment group that the state forced me to get involved in after the horrific events of the al-wataya, for the past few days I have been avoiding mentioning what happened to me hoping that no one would notice, but today Fouad tightened his grip on me, and I found nothing but talking as a way to escape, so I started :

Today, three years have passed since the horrific incident in the city of Al-Wataya, which guaranteed me a six-month vacation in the local state clinic, and before I list the details, I must say that I have never returned to that city again and I do not know until today where that case has reached.

I never liked chaos, talk and gatherings, I was always a lonely island but that man was different, as a teacher in a middle school located on the outskirts of a small town I can't say that I am an interesting person and yet Mustafa saw something in me , he used to drive his son isaac to school every day he and every day he asks me about him as he was a student in my class, at first I saw that it was normal, especially since he was his only son and he had him after years of trying, but after a few days I noticed dull that he just wanted to open a conversation with me... That relaization was three months prior to That fateful Thursday.

his gray sedan was parked at the entrance and he got out, with his son next to him who was running to join his friends with a wide smile on his face that did not pass on to his father. Confused about his condition, I asked him as soon as he stood in front of me:

- Is everything alright ? .

- Yes, just some problems at home. he answered.

- I waited for him to start talking as usual, but he fell silent, so I insisted on him:

- Tell me... what's going on? .

He gently pushed me towards the iron chair behind us and said:

- We have been married for 15 years, and in the past few days Isaac was feeling some disturbances, so I took him to the doctor and he asked me for a series of in-depth analyzes...

- and then ? . I asked curiously, so he went on :

- To make a long story short... He's not my biological son and I didn't tell her that I know and I don't know what to do so you have to give me some advice, you were married before right ?

- With some shock, I replied:

- and I got divorced, got into a filthy spiral, was discharged from the army and hardly found this job, so I'm the last person who can advise you, but... Don't do anything stupid and think of yourself and the boy, he considers you his father after all and it will break his heart .

His silence after that was loud and deafening, and I knew in that moment that no word could help him, so I said:

Go home... Cut your contact with her as short as possible. I'll come to your house tomorrow to check on you and we'll see what we can do.

Like an old man, he got up from his chair and said sadly:

I'm sorry you had to meet her in such circumstances.

- It's okay...really. I said as I patted his shoulder to comfort him .

***

Mustafa's house was in an upscale neighborhood, but it wasn't what you might call "exceptional." The man worked as a sewage cleaner, and despite the dirtiness of the job, the pay was fine, I rang the doorbell twice and he opened straight away as if he had been waiting for me all his life and led me to the kitchen where his wife stood cooking dinner, She was short, though she might fool you at first glance, blonde-haired, brown-eyed. I quickly extended my hand to shake hers and I caught a strange fear in her eyes that made me wonder if she knew her husband's secret, wich was her secret in the first place. She exchanged the handshake and took the bottle of drink that i brought with me then asked me kindly to sit at the eating table that sat in the corner, and I responded politely and quickly sat down, taking comfort in Mustafa's silence, Only a few moments passed and the wife brought the soup and then the salad and called her son's name, with a smile on her face she took her seat on my right to meet her husband while her son sat across from me, i smiled kindly and waved my hand to him before I plunged eating amid an uncomfortable silence that I found no solution for it but to cut it so I said while looking at the wife:

- So... Alia, what do you do? .

- She ran the soup spoon in her hand down her throat. Then she said briefly:

- a nurse .

I nodded, pretending to be interested, then said, trying to be subtle:

- so you too met at the hospital.

- completely . She said with some sarcasm. I met him, he was afraid to make the first move.

- Despite the irony of her words, I could feel the sharpness cutting through the atmosphere like a knife, so I said, trying to ease it:

- And now you have given birth to an angel...

- are you kidding me ? . Mustafa interrupted me talking to his wife.

- A man you meet for the first time and that's how you introduce me to him... as a coward who can't make the first move.

She put the spoon quietly on the table and said with a low tone :

- We have a guest, Mustafa. There is no need for drama.

- No, no . He replid . Please... You obviously have a shipment about to explode, just press the button.

- Good . She said softly. You've been scrubbing shit for nearly twenty years and you've made no effort to get promoted to work in an office...every time you come home disappointed and every time I have to pretend that I care.

- And why the pretend my dear. He said scornfully. You never cared.

My eyes were on the child as fear began to creep in him, interrupting their conversation I raised my hand up but Mustafa waved his hand violently and hit his hot plate of soup to splash weirdly on my hand.

Oh my God, did that burn your hand? . Alia asked with fear .

- No no . I answered calmly. It's just a birthmark.

- She hurried to the kitchen to get a set of tissues, but I asked her permission to leave, and I carried myself away in a kind of anger, I understood Mustafa's condition but was disappointed that once again I had failed to fix what could be fixed.

***

A few days after that disastrous dinner, Mustafa stood at my doorstep with Isaac beside him, I would normally have ignored anyone after such an incident, but the boy was always the detour in the way of my thinking, I opened the door to my house for him with a smile on my face and he said to me with regret :

We have come to apologize for what happened .

I moved away from the door and led them to my office as I didn't really have a room to receive guests. I took my seat and invited them to sit. Then I said to the boy:

Have you ever played with an Xbox? .

His eyes flashed, and he answered:

- Yes... once.

- I pointed my hand to the bedroom at the end of the hallway and said:

- She's waiting for you there.

Lightly Isaac got up from his place, but his father stopped him with some violence and raised the palm of his shirt, revealing a small birthmark. He left me to contemplate it for a few moments, then said to him:

Go and don't forget to put the headphones on.

I waited for the boy to enter the room and then said:

Mustafa, no... .

He quickly pulled out a black Beretta pistol from his jacket's pocket stopping me from finishing my sentence So I cuffed my tongue, I can't say I wasn't afraid but I was certainly used to someone pointing a gun at me, maybe the hand wasn't trembling as Mustafa's hand but the feeling was the same, I raised both hands up high and tried to calm him again :

It's a coincidence that happens once in a million years, but it happened.

- Yes, it happened. He said . With my wife and you yourself said that you entered into a whirlpool.

- I continued to be calm and cautious, even though his finger was right on the trigger. I said :

- I've made a lot of mistakes but something like this...

- shut up . He shouted at me. Just shut up and accept your death, for I accepted a twelve-year-old mistake.

- I really accept it. I said trying to keep up. But think of the boy, think of your family, your time in prison... It's a dark road.

- He didn't say anything after that and was content with silence, he was strayed for a while and turned around to my bedroom trying to find a motive to stop. In a split second he put the pistol under his mouth and pulled the trigger, and his brain exploded in pieces on the door of my office, between the adrenaline rush and the shock i advanced to his corpse, half of his face was Completely missing and on the floor half of his brain ran like a rotten cake, I quickly ran towards the boy embracing him for fear that he would move and pulled the phone out of my pocket to call the police.

***

Inside a narrow interrogation room I sat while the police officer in front of me was flipping a few papers and next to him was a plastic cup of coffee that I pulled towards me as He asked:

- What is your relationship specifically with Mr. Mustafa? .

- we were just friends . I answered.

He stopped flipping the papers after my answer and said :

And you were at his house a few days before his suicide, right? .

- yes . I answered briefly.

- Worriedly, he moved on his chair for a moment, then asked:

- And he committed suicide, thinking that his son was in fact your son? .

Giving myself some time, I took a sip of the coffee in front of me and answered:

Yes, I tried to tell him that I had a vasectomy many years ago due to illness, but he refused to listen.

Again, the man turned over the papers and pulled out a medical report this time. He pushed it towards me saying:

This is the problem, this is his wife's last fertility test and as you can see she is so sterile that she can't even dream of having a baby.

I took a quick look at the paper with a bit of shock on my face as he continued his speech :

- We took a quick visit to the hospital and it turned out that she actually gave birth. The doctor said it was a miracle, but I think it was a mistake and that the problem was with the husband from the beginning.

- More confused than shocked, I looked at him for a moment and then said:

- Do you really think I'm lying? .

- not at all . He answered quickly. But she refused to speak so we think a familiar face might motivate her, we'll be outside waiting in case of any emergency.

- I strongly refused his proposal and asked to leave the place, but he calmly looked at me and said:

- Mr. Khalif, I can now, while we are sitting here, make this case revolve around you as the main suspect. I will not be able to do anything. I will admit it to you, but you will have to hire a lawyer for a good amount and get into a whirlwind of hearings that will not end until you turn 50.

- shit ! I whispered angrily, acknowledging his power, and then said:

- fine, this better go well .

***

I could not convince the officer - after a strong argument on my part - to give me his spare weapon as a way to defend myself in the event of an emergency, and he confronted me once again that he was waiting with his unit outside, we had parked at the beginning of the neighborhood to avoid any complications, so I got off cautiously and walked to the house As if I were one of the residents of the area, it was late, and I noticed as soon as I stood in front of the door that all the lights were off, I softly knocked on the door twice , then I stood waiting for a few moments before Alia opened, with traces of crying and sadness on her face. I offered my condolences before saluting and asked her permission to enter, she opened the door slowly and allowed me to come, i could notice that she was distracted as she moved quickly to the living room and then turned at the last moment to the kitchen and said in a low voice:

- Our last words were an argument.

- I'm sure he forgave you. I said trying to ease her grief.

- From the tap in front of her, she poured herself a glass of water and said:

- He talked about you a lot, you know, you were one of his few friends in town.

The words escaped me at that moment, and I did not know whether to take that sentence as a compliment or as a slander, so she continued:

He trusted you more than he trusted me, and I don't blame him. He knew that I never appreciated him, I never respected him, I never entrusted him with a secret.

Approaching her softly as a glass cup, I said:

Every family has its problems...

- yes . She interrupted me in a high tone. But our problem was bigger... mine was bigger.

- Confused, i asked:

- what do you mean ? .

- My sister. She was silent for a while, then continued:

- My sister insisted that I go to this charlatan, she said that he is the real deal and that he is a licensed "imam", something led to another and he convinced me that he could make me have children and in a moment of weakness... .

- You used black magic. I completed her sentence.

She paused for a moment, resisting crying. Then she said:

- I feel that all events are connected and everything would have stopped if you had convinced Mustafa that everything that had happened was a simple misunderstanding.

From her tone, I sensed a slight aggressiveness, as I had connected the points with some doubt and fear. Then I said:

Call the boy .

With dead eyes she stared at me as she slowly extended her hand to the set of knives on her right, while Isaac emerged from the darkness and stood motionless at the kitchen door and i could see that the birthmark on his hand from earlier disappeared, like a lion tamer. I raised my hand up, trying to reassure her.

- You're grieving now and you might have taken some sedatives, so I'll just leave.

Suspiciously she began to walk towards me, holding the knife like she emerged from a hitchkook movie ready to attack, and said with strange coldness:

- Isaac said you could have saved his father.

- I kept going backwards, remembering all my army training, but the bright front lights that pierced the windows, mixed with the police siren gave me a little calm, and I said, gathering my diaspora:

- If you don't put the knife down, they will shoot.

- My words seemed inaudible to her, and I could see in her features a strange struggle between good and evil, and within her eyes a call for help, the door behind me opened with force and the officer rushed with a group of his men shouting:

- Put the knife down... Now.

While their shouts struggled with logic to persuade her to stop, I looked at the boy and saw in my standing the reflection of the shadow created by the lights of the patrol car behind him, it was a shape of a demon with hairy goat feet and a non-human head that grew on either side of it small creepy horns, I was shocked to the point of dumb, paralyzed and unable to move. And the last thing I remember is the sound of bullets that penetrated Alia's body before her lifeless body fell.

***

Immediately after I finished, Fouad gathered his hands, clapping, and then said:

- Thank you for your participation, I am sure you will feel much better now that you have removed this burden from your shoulders and now let's welcome our newest member.

From the door to my left, a neatly dressed boy with short hair and familiar features entred the room, slowly he walked towards Fouad with a wide smile on his face and firmly shook his hand and said :

- Hello, I am Isaac and I am an orphan, i lost my parents in a series of unfortunate events three years ago and I hope to find companionship and love between you.