Endgame of Secrets : Every Secret Is a Move. Every Lie, a Weapon. The Endgame Begins.
The rain came down in sheets—wild, relentless, drowning the city in a cold hush. Street lamps flickered like dying stars along the narrow alley, their light broken by shifting shadows.
She ran.
Barefoot, breath ragged, soaked to the bone. Her heels lay discarded somewhere back on the slick pavement, and her trembling fingers clutched at a bleeding wound. Crimson washed away into the storm like a secret begging to be kept.
Behind her, footsteps echoed. Calm. Steady. Unhurried.
Like they knew she wouldn’t get far.
She stumbled into a dead end.
The alley’s walls rose like prison bars on either side, graffiti dripping with rain, bricks cold and unyielding. She turned, eyes wide with terror, mouth opening—maybe to beg, maybe to scream.
But the figure stood already in front of her. Umbrella untouched by the storm. A face masked by darkness. One gloved hand holding something long and gleaming—steel, or maybe silence itself.
She whispered a name.
The weapon slid clean.
A gasp. A soft collapse. Her body hit the ground with the sound of water slapping concrete.
The figure knelt beside her.
From their coat, they pulled a small white chess pawn—delicate and out of place.
With precise fingers, they placed it gently on her tongue.
And then, just like that, the killer vanished into the night.
The story will be continued in upcoming chapters until then support me and like, share, subscribe.....
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