The tale of the Genie who lost her lamp has been told as a bedtime story for kids for a long time.
The story narrates, that the Genie was beautiful. Her last master fell in deeply love with her, asking her to become his wife. The genie didn't feel...
Ali croaked, his good arm trembling before he gripped Idris' back tightly, his fingers digging in her skin. The liquid stayed a few seconds in his mouth before it slid down his throat, quickly reaching his stomach. When Idris finished the liquid, she pulled back, glancing, terrified at Ali.
He didn't seem any better. He was still twitching in pain. But after another second, his body slowly calmed down. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, soft whimpers leaving his mouth. Idris lifted his head and slipped her hand underneath it.
Slowly, the darkness started retreating. The threads of the darkness slipped back, uncovering his skin. It backed until his hands, and there stopped abruptly. Idris looked at Ali's hand, grasping it in her hand and observing the darkness with worried eyes. "Why....why isn't it disappearing on his hand?" She asked, looking up at The Seller.
The man idly looked down, grabbing his hand roughly, almost disgusted. Ali groaned in pain and Idris gritted her teeth. "Be careful!" She snapped. The Seller didn't react, but his grip relaxed. He eyed Ali's hands for a few seconds before letting it drop to the floor.
"The medicine was taken too late. His hand will be dyed in darkness for the rest of his life," The Seller said, his voice carefree and void of any worry.
Idris froze, slowly looking down at Ali. Ali whimpered, still dazed, and had barely heard what The Seller had said. "What?" She hissed, her eyes flashing.
The Seller grinned, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Idris. There's nothing you can do," he said, slapping his hands together, starting to walk towards a small curtain that led to the back of his shop.
Idris stood up, stomping towards him and yanked his turban, barely keeping it on his head. She grabbed his arm and spun him around before she pushed him against the wall. The small shop trembled, dust tumbling to the ground. The Seller's eyes widened and looked down at Idris. She was furious, anger rolling off her in waves. Her eyes seemed to shine darkly. "You bastard! Ali is vey, very important to me, and if you made him lose the use of his hand, I'm killing you here and now." Idris growled, pushing The Seller against the wall again.
He quickly shook his head, his lip quivering. "I...no! He won't loose his hand! It's just going to be black!" He shouted, stumbling over his words, panicked.
Idris seemed calmer when she heard this, but her grip didn't loosen around his neck. "Be grateful I haven't cut your head off already," Idris threatened. The Seller croaked, Idris' hand blocking his windpipes.
"What-what can I do...for you t-to let me go?" The Seller chocked out, coughing after he was done, his face becoming purple.
Idris grinned, her eyes glinting dangerously. "Oh, thank you for asking." She held him closer, making sure he was completely purple, lacking air and his eyes bulging out. "You will give us money. A large sum of money. And you will also pay our stay in a hotel for two days," Aiko said, slowly letting go of his neck.
The Seller rubbed his neck for a few seconds before he coughed up an answer. "That is ridiculous!"
In a flash, Idris pressed him against the wall again, her grip around his neck stronger. "Well, either it's that, either I kill you now and take all the money you own." She snapped, her voice harsh. "Your choice; either you live either you die."
The Seller didn't hesitate to nod this time. Idris let him go, dusting her hands off. "Perfect," she grinned, stepping back.
The Seller grunted, gasping for air. He coughed, slowly getting up, his knees wobbling. He slipped behind the curtains, appearing after a second with a large money bag. His hand was trembling, he pushed it in Idris' hands. "Which hotel should we go to?" Idris asked, opening the money bag and counting the coins.
The Seller glared at her, his eyes red rimmed. "The Albaqi Aldhahabiu (Golden Rest). Its....around the corner. The owner knows me. Tell them to send me the bill," he said, almost growling at her.
Idris smirked, her eyebrows high. "I will certainly do so." She turned around, her face changing drastically. Now that her face was hidden, she let down the bravado and let the panic swirling in her stomach paint itself on her face. Idris had pushed down her fear to get what she wanted from the sly man, but now, the stomach-clutching fear had returned. She rushed to Ali, who was still lying down on the floor.
Ali was pale, almost quaking, his cursed hand lied limp next to him. He was covered in sweat. Idris nibbled on her lip, trying to figure out a way to get him up without hurting him further. Idris slipped her hands underneath his arms and pulled him up, grunting. Ali whimpered. Idris slipped his arm around her neck, and and rested the other on her waist. "You can rest in a second," Idris whispered, starting to walk to the door, holding onto Ali who swayed precariously.
As she was walking out of the shop, she heard a loud chuckle coming from inside. Idris turned around, ready to protect herself and Ali. But The Seller was simply standing in the middle of the small, dusty shop. Idris glared at him, wanting to know what he was giggling about. The Seller grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket, slowly dabbing at his skin, never letting go of Idris' eyes. "You know very well that when he's going to find out what you are, he will react like everyone else did." The Seller paused, slipping the handkerchief back in his pocket. His eyes gleamed and a terrifying grin spread on his face. "Either he's going to run away screaming, or he's going to try and capture you."
Idris felt something stab her heart. She knew what he was referring to all too well. "He's different," she grumbled, not sure if she even believed in her own lie. Idris didn't know Ali enough to say that with sincerity.
"All humans are the same. Just you wait and see." The Seller whispered his warning, before disappearing in the shadows of his shop, only his eyes glinting in the light.
Idris closed her eyes and shook her head, starting to drag Ali's limp body to their hotel.
• • • A man dressed in a black cloak slipped inside the small shop at dusk. The streets were empty and no one saw him step inside. "Seller," he grumbled, his voice rough.
The Seller stumbled out of the shadows, his eyes widening happily when he saw the man. "Oh! Hello!" He said, his voice high pitched.
"Was she here?" Barked the cloaked man.
The Seller grinned mischievously as he outstretched his hand. "Nothing comes without a price."
The cloaked man said nothing, staying in silence for a minute before he grabbed a small bag of coins and threw it at The Seller. He caught it. He quickly checked inside and slipped it inside his pockets. "She was here. With a man. Maybe her new lover," The Seller grinned.
The cloaked man seemed to stiffen when he heard this. "Where did she go?" He hissed.
"That, will cost extra." The Seller said.
The cloaked man didn't hesitate and threw another bag of money. The Seller didn't check it this time and nodded his head to the door of his shop. "She went to the hotel near here." The Seller slipped the money inside his pockets. "If you pay me enough, I could even describe her clothing-" The Seller looked up, searching his shop.
The cloaked man had disappeared without a sound.
The Seller shivered, hurrying to the door and locking it. That man was terrifying.
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