VOWS OF VENGEANCE

A Stranger's proposition

The beeping sound of the machine was the first thing Ethan heard as his eyes fluttered open. The blinding white light of the hospital room made him squint, and a dull pain throbbed through his body. He tried to move, but his limbs felt like lead.

A nurse leaned over him, her expression a mix of relief and caution. "You're awake," she said softly. "You’ve been unconscious for two days."

"Two... days?" Ethan croaked, his throat dry as sandpaper. He winced as he attempted to sit up, only to feel a sharp pain shoot through his ribs. "What happened?"

"You were hit by a car," the nurse explained, adjusting the IV line in his arm. "The driver brought you here. You’re lucky to be alive."

Ethan's memory was hazy. He vaguely recalled the rain, the blinding headlights, and the sensation of his body hitting the pavement. "Who brought me in?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The nurse hesitated. "She’s still here, waiting outside. Do you want me to call her in?"

Ethan nodded weakly, unsure of what to expect. Moments later, the door creaked open, and a woman stepped in. Her heels clicked against the tiled floor as she approached his bed.

“How are you feeling now?” The woman asked, staring at Ethan, who seemed a little lost. “Yes, I am fine. I am sorry I bashed your car,” he said apologetically. 

“You don't need to apologize.” Miranda looked at his face. “Part of this was my fault too. I should have been more careful.” She said, looking at the nurse who was busy discharging her duty. 

“Is he going to be alright?” Marinda asked, biting into her fingernails. “He is going to be fine," the nurse assured her. "But he needs rest. The injuries aren't life-threatening, but his ribs are bruised, and he has a mild concussion."

Miranda let out a small sigh of relief, her shoulders relaxing. "Thank you," she said softly, glancing back at Ethan.

Ethan studied her face, trying to place her. She didn’t look familiar, but there was something in her eyes—a mix of guilt and concern—that unsettled him. "Why are you still here?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "You could’ve just dropped me off and left."

Miranda hesitated, shifting on her feet. "I couldn’t just leave you," she admitted. "I... I felt responsible. Besides, the doctors said you didn’t have anyone listed as an emergency contact." She paused, her brows furrowing. "Do you really not have anyone?"

Ethan’s jaw tightened. The question stung more than he cared to admit. "No," he replied bluntly. "Not anymore."

An awkward silence settled between them, broken only by the steady hum of the machines. Miranda cleared her throat. "Well, if it helps, I made sure all the hospital bills are taken care of. You won’t have to worry about anything."

Ethan blinked at her, surprised. "You didn’t have to do that."

"I wanted to," she said firmly. "And... maybe I can help you with more than just this." She hesitated, as if weighing her next words carefully. "You don’t know me, but I might be able to offer you a way out of whatever situation you’re in."

Ethan narrowed his eyes, skepticism creeping into his expression. "Why would you want to help me? You don’t even know me."

Miranda’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Let’s just say I have a habit of helping people who’ve hit rock bottom. And you... well, you look like you could use a fresh start."

Ethan opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. What did he have to lose? He was homeless, jobless, and completely alone. Maybe this stranger could offer him something he couldn’t find on his own.

"Alright," he said cautiously. "I’ll hear you out."

Miranda’s face lit up with a small smile. "Good. Rest for now, and when you’re ready, then we can talk.” Miranda looked at him. “ I feel…” 

Ethan felt drowsy. He slowly closed his eyes and drifted into another long sleep. 

Waking up, he found himself in a strange environment. “ Where am I?” He said slowly, opening his eyes. “ You are in safe hands, Mr Ethan.” A maid said with a smile on his face. “ And who are you?” Ethan looked at her before the door opened with Miranda walking in 

“ You look okay,Mr Ethan.” She said smiling. “ Why did you bring me here?” Ethan said gently, sitting up. He winced as he looked around the room. It was well furnished with luxurious decor—mahogany furniture, rich velvet curtains, and a chandelier that cast a warm glow across the room. The bed he lay on was soft enough to swallow him whole, a stark contrast to the hospital cot he had woken up on earlier.

Miranda stepped closer, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor. "I brought you here because I thought you deserved better than a sterile hospital room," she said with a small shrug, her tone casual but her gaze sharp. "And because I need to speak to you somewhere private."

Ethan frowned, his unease growing. "Private? About what?"

Miranda didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she gestured to the maid. "Can you give us a moment, please?"

The maid bowed slightly and exited the room, closing the door behind her. Miranda turned back to Ethan, her expression unreadable. "I know you’re probably wondering why I’m doing all of this for a complete stranger," she began, her voice steady.

"You're right," Ethan replied bluntly. "It doesn't make sense. People don’t just do things like this without a reason."

Miranda smiled faintly, as if she had expected his suspicion. "Fair enough," she said, taking a seat in the armchair near his bed. "The truth is, I’ve been looking for someone like you, Ethan. Someone... with nothing to lose."

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "I need your help. There’s a man—a very powerful man—who has wronged me in ways you can’t even imagine. I’ve been planning to take him down for years, but I can’t do it alone. I need someone who can help me without fear of losing anything. Someone who understands what it’s like to have their life torn apart."

Ethan stared at her, his mind racing. This was absurd. He was a man barely hanging onto the scraps of his own life, and here she was, asking for his help to take down someone powerful? "You’ve got the wrong guy," he said, shaking his head. "I’m not some hero or avenger. I can’t even take care of myself."

"Maybe not," Miranda said calmly, "but you’ve got nothing holding you back. No family, no job, no ties. That makes you the perfect person for this."

Ethan scoffed, trying to hide how much her words stung. "And what’s in it for me?"

Miranda’s eyes gleamed. "Freedom. Revenge. A chance to rebuild your life from the ground up. I’ll give you everything you need—money, resources, connections. All I ask is that you trust me."

Ethan leaned back against the pillows, his mind a whirlwind of doubt and curiosity. This was insane. But as he glanced around the opulent room and then back at Miranda’s determined expression, he felt the tiniest flicker of something he hadn’t felt in years: hope.

"And if I say no?" he asked, staring at her in the face.