Vision in Red by Sajjad Rasool - HTML preview

Vision in Red

Amal dug into her pocket. She pulled out the iron key wrapped in red thread.

She slammed the key onto the dashboard.

"We are here!" she shouted at the windshield. "My name is Amal! This is Yasmin! We are recorded! We are written!"

She grabbed a pen from the cup holder—a red grading pen—and grabbed a napkin. She wrote their names on it in frantic, jagged letters.

AMAL. YASMIN.

She held the napkin up to the glass.

"read it!" she screamed. "Read it and choke!"

The red eyes stopped.

They hovered just outside the hood of the car. Amal could feel the cold radiating through the glass. She could feel the pressure on her eardrums.

The entity was confused. It was sensing the intent. The defiance.

For a long, agonizing minute, the standoff held. The red eyes pulsing. Amal holding the napkin like a shield.

Then, the car engine sputtered. It coughed. And it roared to life.

Amal didn't wait. She slammed the gearshift into drive and floored the accelerator.

The car squealed forward. She drove straight at the red eyes.

At the last second, the eyes blinked out. The shadow dispersed like mist. The car punched through the cold spot and into the warm, humid air of the night.

They sped down the street, swerving around potholes. Suddenly, the "Labyrinth" seemed to unravel. The bakery appeared—closed, but there. The school appeared. The geography snapped back into place.

They burst out of the camp entrance and onto the main highway. The streetlights were on. Cars were driving by. The world was normal.

Amal drove for five kilometers without blinking. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

"Did you see them?" Yasmin asked, her voice trembling. "Wait... did we see them? Or did we just... imagine it?"

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