Vision in Red by Sajjad Rasool - HTML preview

Vision in Red

Yasmin looked worse than she had yesterday. She sat behind her desk with her head in her hands, her coffee untouched and cold beside her. When Amal entered, she looked up with eyes that had aged years in a single night.

"You came," she said. It was almost a question.

"I had to. After yesterday—after what you told me—I have questions."

"Everyone has questions." Yasmin gestured to the chair across from her. "Sit. Close the door. What I'm about to show you... it can't leave this room."

Amal sat, her heart pounding. "Show me what?"

Yasmin reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a small digital recorder. "I started recording the children's testimonies six months ago. At first, it was just for clinical purposes—documenting symptoms, tracking patterns. But then..." She set the recorder on the desk between them. "Then I started noticing things that didn't fit any clinical model."

"Things about the watchers?"

"Things about how they're created." Yasmin pressed play.

A child's voice filled the room —high and thin and matter-of-fact.

"He stepped on the water jug first. Before he did anything else. He looked at me and he stepped on it. All the water spilled out. Then he shot the tank on the roof. Then he went inside and took my father."

A pause. A rustle of paper.

"When the water was gone, I saw someone standing behind him. Big. With red eyes. He wasn't there before. But after the jug broke, he was there."

Yasmin pressed stop. Her hands were shaking.

"That was recorded two weeks ago. A seven-year-old boy from the northern district. He'd witnessed a raid on his home. Soldiers destroyed their water supply before taking his father into custody. His father hasn't been seen since."

"And the figure he saw—"

"Appeared during the raid. Not after. During." Yasmin pressed play again.

A different voice now. A girl, slightly older.

56