Dying To Date You

The Match

Amir Rahman scrolled through his phone, casually swiping left on most profiles that popped up on his dating app. He wasn’t exactly looking for love, but after years of his family pestering him about settling down, he’d finally caved. After all, how hard could it be to find someone interesting?

It was only when a particular profile appeared on his screen that he stopped his absent-minded swiping. Her name was Zahra, and her photo showed a striking woman with dark, mysterious eyes, framed by curls of black hair that tumbled past her shoulders. There was something captivating about her smile, something that seemed to draw him in.

He hesitated for a moment before swiping right. Almost instantly, the app notified him of a match.

"Well, that was quick," Amir muttered, a bit surprised. He clicked on her profile, scrolling through her sparse bio. It didn’t reveal much—just a few vague interests: "Travel. Music. The Desert."

Oddly specific. But then again, people were into strange things. He quickly typed out a message.

Amir: Hey! I see we matched. What’s your favorite travel destination?

A few minutes passed. Then came the reply.

Zahra: That depends. Are you a fan of the desert?

Amir chuckled at her quick response.

Amir: Never been, but always wanted to see it.

Zahra: Maybe you will soon. How about we grab a drink tonight?

Her boldness was unexpected. Amir usually took his time with these things, but something about Zahra's directness intrigued him. After some brief deliberation, he agreed. They set a time for 7 p.m. at a quiet bar near downtown.

The First Meeting

The bar was dimly lit, with the soft hum of jazz music creating an intimate atmosphere. Amir arrived early, a little nervous but curious about this mysterious woman. He sat at a table near the back, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of her.

Zahra arrived precisely at 7, gliding into the bar with an air of quiet confidence. Her dark eyes locked onto his the moment she entered, and Amir felt an unexplainable pull toward her. She was even more beautiful in person, her features sharp and regal, almost ancient in their elegance.

“Amir?” she asked, though it sounded more like a statement than a question. She sat across from him, her gaze never wavering.

“That’s me,” he replied, feeling slightly out of his depth. He extended his hand awkwardly, but she merely smiled, a secretive curl of her lips.

“So, you don’t like the desert?” Zahra asked, her voice soft but laden with something he couldn’t quite place—something almost... predatory.

Amir chuckled nervously. “It’s not that I don’t like it. I’ve just never had the chance to visit. Are you from the desert?”

“In a manner of speaking,” she said, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “The sands are... familiar to me.”

There was an odd intensity to the way she spoke, as if each word carried weight. Amir felt himself drawn in, captivated by her enigmatic demeanor. They talked for a while—about travel, music, and other small details. But no matter the subject, Zahra always circled back to the desert.

"You should visit one day," she said, leaning in closer. "There’s something ancient there. Something... powerful."

Amir smiled, unsure how to respond. "I guess I’ll put it on my list."

Zahra’s eyes gleamed in the dim light, her gaze unsettlingly focused on him. "Yes, you should."

The Secret Beneath the Sand

What Amir couldn’t possibly know was that Zahra had been watching him long before they’d matched on the app. She had found him weeks ago, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He was a descendant of the man who had sealed her beneath the desert sands over a thousand years ago—a general of great power and cruelty, who had learned the dark art of binding djinn.

For millennia, Zahra had been trapped, her body bound in chains of iron and magic deep beneath the shifting dunes. She had been forgotten by the world, but she had not forgotten. She’d waited, her hatred festering like a wound, until finally, the seal had weakened.

When she had freed herself, the modern world had been a strange and alien place to her. But one thing remained unchanged: the bloodline of the general. And that was where Amir came in.

He had no idea who his ancestors were, no idea that the sins of his forefathers still lingered in the dark corners of history. But Zahra knew. She had found him, and now she was here, ready to exact her revenge.

As they talked, she watched him closely, trying to see traces of the man who had imprisoned her in his face. There were none. Amir was kind, gentle even—nothing like the general. But it didn’t matter. Blood was blood, and Zahra had sworn an oath to herself.

A Dangerous Charm

The evening wore on, and Amir found himself more and more enchanted by Zahra. There was something almost hypnotic about her presence, the way she spoke, the way her fingers seemed to dance on the table as she talked. He could feel the tension between them growing, the air thick with an unspoken connection.

But Zahra’s mind was elsewhere, swirling with plans. The moment she had waited for was near. She had gathered her strength, learned the ways of this new world, and now, with Amir sitting across from her, she knew she could complete what she had started all those years ago.

“So, Amir,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Do you believe in magic?”

The question caught him off guard. He laughed, shaking his head. “Not really. I mean, I guess anything’s possible, but I’ve never seen any proof.”

Zahra’s smile widened. “Maybe you just haven’t been looking in the right places.”

Before Amir could respond, the lights in the bar flickered for a brief moment. He glanced around, his brow furrowing, but when he turned back to Zahra, she was staring at him, her eyes gleaming with a strange, otherworldly light.

“Do you ever wonder about your ancestors, Amir?” she asked suddenly, her voice soft but laced with menace.

Amir blinked, surprised by the sudden change in topic. “Not really. I don’t know much about them.”

Zahra leaned closer, her face inches from his. “You should.”

Amir swallowed hard, the atmosphere between them growing heavier by the second. There was something wrong, something deeply unsettling about the way she was looking at him now.

"Zahra, what—"

His words were cut off as a strange sensation washed over him, a feeling of heat and pressure building in his chest. His breath caught, and suddenly, it was as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

Zahra’s voice was low, almost a hiss. “Do you know who I am, Amir?”

He shook his head, his heart pounding. “What—what are you talking about?”

Zahra leaned back in her chair, her eyes burning with an inner fire. “Your ancestors bound me beneath the sands. They thought they could contain me. But I am free now.”

Amir’s mind raced, trying to make sense of what she was saying. “This—this is a joke, right? You’re messing with me?”

Zahra’s smile was cold, her eyes sharp as blades. “I am no joke, Amir. I am vengeance.”

The Djinn’s Wrath

Amir’s mind reeled, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He had heard stories of djinn as a child, but they were nothing more than fairy tales, stories his grandmother told to frighten him into behaving. But as Zahra’s eyes gleamed with a light that seemed to come from within, he realized this was no tale.

“Wait—wait,” he stammered, standing from his chair, the world spinning around him. “You’re—you’re serious?”

Zahra rose with him, her presence towering despite her average height. “Your ancestor, the general, thought he could imprison me. He was wrong.”

Amir’s heart pounded in his chest as he backed away. His thoughts were a whirl of confusion and fear. “That was—that was over a thousand years ago! I have nothing to do with that!”

Zahra’s eyes softened slightly, though her voice remained firm. “Blood carries the weight of sins, Amir. Whether you knew it or not, you are tied to his deeds.”

Terror gripped Amir as he realized the full extent of what she was saying. He had unknowingly walked into a centuries-old vendetta. “Please, Zahra, I didn’t do anything! I didn’t even know about any of this!”

For a moment, Zahra hesitated. Amir’s fear was palpable, and for the first time, she saw the man before her not as a symbol of her captivity but as an innocent soul. But the anger that had fueled her for so long was hard to ignore.

She took a step closer, her expression unreadable. “Your blood is the same. And for that, I should destroy you.”

Amir’s eyes widened in horror. “Please—don’t. I’m not him. I’m not like him.”

For a long moment, Zahra stared at him, her mind warring with itself. She had waited centuries for this moment, but now…