Island of Wishes Story (Chapter One)
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Chapter One
The mind is the primary driver of man, and it is not man who drives himself. Exploiting the human mind to the maximum is what enables us to create a human capable of always making the right decisions. Our goal is clear.. Note: The first three chapters are an introduction and not the main events.
The
rain was falling heavily on the city roofs, as if the sky was crying over a crime not yet committed.
"Ghassan Mahmoud" stood under a dilapidated umbrella, catching the cold drizzle on
his face, while the police car lights reflected an annoying glare in a deserted street in the
Al-Qata'i neighborhood.
"Sir,
the body is inside."
Ghassan paid no attention to the young officer, but remained
standing, contemplating the modest facade of the old house. He felt deep down that this was not
an ordinary crime, there was something different in the atmosphere, something suspicious.
Ghassan
entered the house with confident, deliberate steps, his breath rising in the cold air. The room was
suspiciously tidy, everything in its normal place, except for the body lying on the sofa
as if sunk in a deep sleep.
Ghassan
asked in his calm voice:
-
The hostage?
The young
officer replied:
- Yes
sir, she was kidnapped three days ago, and was found here this morning.
The
victim's face was pale, but looked peaceful, as if death hadn't come violently.. Ghassan began his
slow tour of the room, his eyes missing no detail. He stopped in front of the bookshelf, noticing one book
slightly tilted from the rest. He pulled it out gently, its title was "Ghosts of
the Past". And between its pages, a torn photo slipped out
A photo
of a man and a woman smiling on their wedding day..
The man was Ghassan himself..
And the woman was Layla..
His hands
trembled slightly, then he picked up a small paper that fell from the book's folds, Ghassan held it and read
what was written on it in an elegant, deliberate handwriting...
"Welcome
to the game, you loser."
At that
moment, Ghassan felt as if the whole world had stopped spinning. Someone knew him, someone
was playing him, and someone had decided to open an old wound. The officer asked anxiously upon noticing his state:
-
Sir, are you alright?
Ghassan
returned the photo to his pocket quietly, then looked at the body again and said in a faint, barely audible voice:
- No, nothing is fine anymore. The
game has truly begun.
Ghassan
left the house feeling a new weight on his shoulders. The rain hadn't stopped yet, but now he
felt a different kind of cold. A cold stemming from within, from those memories he had tried to bury for
years. He looked at the gray sky, wondering: who knew his secrets this deeply? And who wanted
to play him this way?
He returned
to his car, sitting in the driver's seat without starting the engine. He took the photo out again,
contemplating it under the light of the dim
lamp. How much time had passed since he saw this photo? Five years? Six? He had burned all
the photos that reminded him of her, or so he thought..
His phone
rang suddenly, an unknown number. He picked up, but there was no voice on the other end, only a faint
breathing before the call disconnected. Ghassan smiled bitterly, the message was clear: the game had
truly begun, and he didn't even know its rules.
He started
the car engine, knowing the road ahead was long and dark. But the only thing he
knew for certain was that he had to find this person, not just to save potential victims,
but to save what was left of himself.
He turned
the steering wheel slowly, moving away from the crime street. The dawn streets of Cairo were starting
to wake up slowly. Vendors setting up their goods, street sweepers beginning their day, but
Ghassan was drowning in his thoughts. He wondered: who could it be? Who knew his past details with such
accuracy?
He remembered
suddenly his messy office at the police station. That small room filled with old case
files, where he spent most of his time escaping his empty apartment. How many times did he find himself asleep on
his desk, surrounded by investigation papers and empty coffee cups?
He decided
to return to the station directly. He needed to search the archives, perhaps this person had
appeared before in previous cases. Maybe he was a former prisoner, or a relative of one of his former
victims.
Upon
his arrival, he found the young officer "Adam" waiting at his desk. Adam said while handing him
a mobile phone inside a plastic bag:
- We found something else, sir, it was in the victim's
pocket. The last received call was from an unknown number.
Ghassan
opened the bag cautiously, and unlocked the phone. The last call was received two hours before discovering the body.
The number was not registered to anyone. But the most alarming thing was the single
text message in the inbox..
"Do you remember
that day in the studio? She was laughing while you tried to look serious. You haven't changed much,
Ghassan."
A shiver
ran down his spine. No one knew these details except him and Layla. Even the photographer wouldn't remember
after all these years. It was as if a hidden eye had been watching him for years.
He looked
at Adam:
- I want
all the information about the victim. Her friends, her family, her workplace, everything.
Then he added in a calmer tone:
- And I want
the files of all the cases I've handled over the past five years.
Adam looked
at him curiously:
- Is
this personal, sir?
Ghassan
didn't answer, he just turned his chair towards the window. The sun was starting to rise, looming behind the old
buildings of Cairo. He remembered how Layla loved watching the sunrise from their small balcony. She used
to say it gave her hope for a new day.
But
hope had died in his heart since she left. Now, there was only darkness and waiting.
Waiting for the next move from this unknown adversary.
Suddenly,
the office phone rang. The director wanted him in his office. Upon entering, he found the director sitting behind
his massive desk, his face expressing anxiety:
- Ghassan,
there is a new development. Another one disappeared. The same pattern, the same kidnapping method.
Ghassan
asked:
- Who?
The director
replied:
- A university
student. She disappeared last night after a lecture at the university. We found this in her room.
Ghassan looked
towards the director, his eyes shining with a strange glow not seen in years, and said:
- Where
was this student kidnapped?
The director
replied:
- From
Cairo University, specifically in front of the Faculty of Arts. But Ghassan...
The director
hesitated slightly, but added:
- There is
something else. We found this in her bag.
He pulled out
from the drawer a small notebook with a blue cover. Ghassan opened it to find on the first page a strange
drawing: a circle containing three interlocking triangles, and beneath it a date going back fifteen years
ago. The date he met Layla for the first time.
The director
handed him another brown envelope. Inside was another photo of Ghassan and Layla, but this time it was torn
in half, with a handwritten message:
" This time, she won't
slip away from you. Or will you fail again?"
Ghassan
asked in a hoarse voice:
- What
is this drawing? And what are these photos?!
The director
said:
- We don't
know yet, but the student was studying psychology, and working on a research about organized crime.
Ghassan
left the director's office feeling the walls closing in on him. The game was accelerating, and he
had to find a way to outsmart an adversary who knew him better than he knew himself..
He left the room carrying the notebook, conflicting emotions
churning in his chest. In the hallway, he bumped into officer Adam who was waiting for him with a flushed face:
- The first
crime scene is nearby sir, we found something strange in the surveillance camera recordings..
They headed
together to the surveillance room. On the screens, a man appeared wearing a long black coat and a hood
hiding his features. He was standing at the street corner, watching the first victim's house two days before
her abduction. But the most terrifying thing was what happened next.
Before
the man disappeared into the darkness, he turned directly towards the camera as if he knew he was being watched, then waved
his hands in an exaggerated manner.
Adam
whispered:
- He is
mocking us.
But
Ghassan was drawn to that hand movement. It was a familiar gesture. He remembered how Layla used to wave
at him the exact same way when he left for work every morning.
He returned
to his office, the blue notebook in his hand. He sat flipping through its pages, and suddenly... he stopped at a page
with an address written on it that he knew very well. The address of his old apartment where he lived with Layla before
they separated.
He called
the young officer immediately:
- Adam!
Let's go right now!
Adam
came rushing anxiously and said:
- To
where sir?
Ghassan
replied with suppressed anger:
- To
a place I know very well. To my old house.
During
the ride, Ghassan was silent, his memory taking him back. To those warm evenings in
the small apartment, where they would sit together on the sofa, planning their future. To that
day when she left him forever, leaving him alone with his shadow.
Upon
their arrival at the old building in the Dokki neighborhood, they found the door open. Ghassan advanced cautiously,
followed by Adam. The apartment was abandoned, yet suspiciously clean, as if someone had been
taking care of it. And in the living room.. a waiting setup..
On
the central coffee table, there was a chess game placed carefully. The black pieces were surrounding
the white king from all sides and next to it, a new message:
" The next victim
will determine your fate. Will you be the hero or remain that loser you know? Time is running out,
Ghassan."
The
air in the room was cold, but a cold sweat was streaming down Ghassan's forehead. He looked at Adam,
then at the chessboard, and finally at the open window where the night breeze blew in..
Ghassan said in a calm voice:
- He is
here.. He is watching us right now.
And at
that moment, the lights went out, in the darkness, Ghassan heard a whisper coming from the corner:
- A beautiful
start, isn't it, my old friend?
The lights
came back right after, there was no one. Just a new paper on the chessboard with
this written on it:
"Chapter
two has begun."