A Gun and An Anomaly Ch 1
Do you think God stays in heaven because he too lives in fear of what he has created?
Ch 1 of a multi chapter Yandere!Iqbal x Writer&Artist!Fem!Reader Dark Angst Fic
Warnings for this chapter: Guns, emotional trauma, manipulative iqbal being called tf out (hell yeah)
BLUE is Reader RED is Iqbal
Iqbal opened the door to something he never imagined he would see, a gun pointed at him, that was usual for him in his line of work, but the person behind the gun, it was his wife, that was the anomaly. Her hands were trembling, tears running down her eyes. Her whole body was shaking.
He looked down towards the floor, he tried to think of a way to get out of this, he always had a way out of difficult situations. He was a soldier, bred and trained to be adaptable to any last moment surprises on the battlefield.
“Ive seen the proof with my own eyes, on video.”
His game was up, and he knew it. He held his hands up in surrender. Iqbal’s karma had finally caught up to him. He had burned everything for her. He never meant for her to find out about it, especially not like this.
“Jaan, put the gun down on the floor, please”
“YOU KILLED THEM ALL. MERCILESSLY. LIKE ANIMALS. YOU KILLED THEM LIKE THEY WERE WORSE THAN ANIMALS”
She puts the finger on the trigger, one small twitch, one small tremble, and he's dead.
She thought she knew the story of what happened so well, she thought Iqbal tried his best to save them. Of course that's what she thought. He did his very best to make sure she would never in her life doubt that. The scape goat, the evidence, the judges, the police, it was all taken care of by him. After all, he was not a major in the army for nothing . But somewhere he blundered, and he realised that very quickly after the fact. Yet it was still too late to do anything about it. He just had to trust that the only person with the evidence would never dare to release it, especially not directly to you.
Iqbal steps closer, he doesn't care if she shoots. Now that she saw what he did to them, he knew he would never again see her face light up like the moon you wrote so fondly of, never feel her lips on him again, and never again hear her sweet laughter. What was the point of his living if he had to live without all of that, without her.
She sobbed, she wanted to fall into his arms, because he made sure she had no one else to fall to. The subtle mind games, the isolation.
He saw the sadness behind her eyes that moment from behind the trigger. He saw her fight the battle of whether she wanted the comfort only he could provide or if she wanted to achieve what she set out to do with the gun.
He walked right in front of her,
and put it into his mouth.
Not that he cared, but he knew you would not pull the trigger. He was deeply familiar with the look of a person who was itching to pull the trigger. That was not the look you had on your face at all.
You wanted to kill him, you really did, but you were not trained to be a hardened soldier like him. You knew if you killed him, no matter how much you think he deserved it, you would continue to live with the guilt of taking a life. You were a writer and an artist, you were taught to value life, you were taught to empathize.
The same teachings were why you were in this situation, with the gun in your hand, pointed at your husband. You never wanted them dead, no matter how much they hurt you. You loved them at one point in your life and you always tried to carry that with you instead of holding a grudge against them about all the hurt they caused.
You ran away from them with Iqbal, he was your safety, your peace, your salvation.
But the man that was presently in front of you was none of those things to you anymore. You wonder if he was ever like that, or was it all a big trap set out for you that you fell into. He was not the same man who wooed you with his little diary of personal poems, yet he was not fully a monster, as a pure monster would never have been able to make you shine and smile the way he did. He was a grotesque mixture, a half human half monster hybrid.
An abomination sent by God that even God refuses to understand.
