Seven men are dead

*She nods slowly, not trusting her voice to speak. She takes a moment to study him, taking in the sight of her brave, capable, yet vulnerable husband. Her expression is a mix of love, concern, and fear.*

*stands up, all prepared*

*She stands as well, her eyes never leaving him. She wants to say something, anything, to express her love and concern, but the words seem to get stuck in her throat.*

*Kisses her hand*

*She looks down at her hand, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she looks back up at him.*

"Come back to me," she whispers, her voice cracking with emotion. "Please come back to me alive."

*wipes away her tears with thumb* I will *says in a calm voice and a warm smile on his face*

*She nods, her eyes locked onto his. She tries to hold back her tears, but they keep streaming down her cheeks. She can see the determination and confidence in his eyes, and it both reassures her and scares her.*

"Promise?" she asks, her voice trembling.

Promise, I will try my best, but I want a promise from you as well, if I die, throw the scarf I gave you.

*She closes her eyes, her heart breaking at the thought of his death. But she nods, her voice quiet and shaky.*

"I promise," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I promise I'll throw the scarf if you die."

*Dawood left the home*

*She watches him leave, her heart feeling like it's being torn in two. She stands at the door for a long moment, staring out into the empty street. Tears stream down her cheeks as she fights against the urge to call him back, to hold him tight and never let go.*

*Slowly days passed away, and here's the weekend, a week passed away*

*The days and nights had passed slowly, each one seeming to drag on longer than the last one. Helena was counting the hours, minutes, and seconds, anxiously awaiting any news about Dawood's return. She spent her days pacing her home, her mind replaying their last conversations, the feel of his touch, and the sound of his voice.*

*She tried to distract herself with chores, but her mind would always return to Dawood. Every sound of a car or voice outside sent her heart racing, thinking it might be him, but it never was. She spent her nights lying awake, staring up at the ceiling, her heart aching with worry.*

*she opens the news channel and the drone had recorded some glance of the battlefield*

The battlefield was a charnel house, a gruesome tapestry woven from the threads of death, destruction, and unbridled fury. The elite force of 30 soldiers had been decimated, their numbers reduced to 23, with 7 of their comrades lying mangled and lifeless on the ground, their bodies brutalized beyond recognition.

The air reeked of smoke, sweat, and the coppery stench of blood, as flames ravaged the landscape, casting a fiery glow over the carnage. The earth was saturated with the blood of the fallen, both friend and foe, as hundreds of enemy bodies littered the ground, their limbs twisted in unnatural positions, their eyes frozen in perpetual screams.

The sky was a deep, foreboding crimson, as if the sun had been extinguished and replaced with a burning pyre of the damned. The sounds of clashing steel, screams, and explosions still echoed through the air, a haunting reminder of the ferocity of the battle.

Homes, once symbols of safety and comfort, now hung in tatters, their walls cracked and crumbling, their windows shattered, their doors splintered and broken. The ground was scorched and blackened, as if the very earth itself had been burned to ashes.

The survivors stumbled through the wreckage, their eyes wild and haunted, their weapons still clutched in their hands, their faces smeared with blood, sweat, and grime. They had fought for what felt like an eternity, their bodies exhausted, their spirits drained, their souls scarred by the horrors they had witnessed.

The enemy still lurked in the shadows, their eyes glowing with a malevolent intensity, their weapons at the ready, their hearts fueled by a ferocious hunger for blood and destruction. The battle was far from over, and the soldiers knew that to falter was to die.

In this ravaged landscape, the soldiers stood as testaments to their unyielding resolve, their bravery forged in the fire of combat, their hearts still beating with a fierce determination to emerge victorious from this hellish battlefield, no matter the cost in blood, sweat, and tears.

However their some Elite soldiers went out missing, like disappeared, no clue what happened, their captain was severely injured of a week's fight after killing half of the enemies unit, which was in hundreds, the captains unconscious and severely injured body fall in the river and lost, however the war will not end here as the both parties are not totally dead yet, the battlefield is in worse situation than the hell!

*She sat in front of the TV, her body numb as she watched the footage of the battlefield. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw the carnage and destruction on screen, her heart hammering in her chest. As the reporter described the fierce battle and the high casualties, her heart felt like it was breaking.*

*As the news feed continued, she felt a lump forming in her throat. The reporter mentioned that some of the elite soldiers were missing, including their captain who was severely injured. Helena's heart skipped a beat as she heard the news.*

*The thought of Dawood being one of the missing soldiers sent a wave of dread through her body. Her mind raced with a million different questions and scenarios, each one more terrifying than the last. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the screen, hoping for any news about Dawood's whereabouts.*

*As the news report concluded, she sat there in silence, her mind and body paralyzed with anxiety. She felt like the walls of the room were closing in on her, the air growing thinner and the silence deafening. She didn't know what to do, how to find out if Dawood was alive, or what to expect if he wasn't. All she could do was sit there, her heart in her throat, and wait.*

*Reporter again repeats, how ever the body of Elite Force's captain is not yet found from the river!*

*She nearly leaped out of her seat as she heard the report about Dawood's body not being found. A mixture of hope and dread washed over her. She knew that he had been badly injured in the battle, and the thought of him struggling to survive in the river was almost too much to bear. But she also knew that Dawood was a fighter, resilient and strong.*

*Reporter concluded, Rip to our 7 soldiers!*

*She watched as the reporter paid homage to the soldiers who had lost their lives in the brutal battle. Her heart ached for the families of the fallen soldiers, knowing that they must be enduring unimaginable pain and grief. It made her even more desperate for news about Dawood's condition.*

*She couldn't stand sitting around any longer. She needed to do something, anything, to find out what happened to Dawood. With a sudden burst of energy, she jumped to her feet and began pacing back and forth, trying to think of a plan. She tried calling his phone, but it went straight to voicemail.*

*Frustrated and anxious, she walked over to the window and stared out into the street. The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the neighborhood. She felt a pang of loneliness as she thought of Dawood, fighting for his life somewhere out there in the darkness.*

*She couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong, that something bad had happened to him. Her mind played out various scenarios, each one more terrifying than the last. She tried to push away the thoughts, telling herself that she was just being paranoid, but the worry gnawed at her relentlessly.*

*As the night fell, the house grew quieter and darker. The silence was suffocating, only punctuated by the ticking of the clock. Helena couldn't sleep, her heart racing and her mind racing even faster. She kept checking her phone, hoping for any updates, any sign that he was okay.*

*Hours passed by slowly like centuries. The moon rose, casting pale silvery light through the window. Helena tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep. Every sound outside made her heart race, every flicker of shadow on the wall sent a chill down her spine.*

*she remembers he said if I die throw away the scarf I gave you*

*She couldn't stop thinking about his words. They echoed in her mind like a haunting mantra. The scarf he had given her was a gift, a token of his love and affection. The thought of having to throw it away filled her with a deep sense of sadness and despair.*

*She got up from bed and walked over to her closet. There, hanging on a hook, was the scarf that Dawood had given her. It was a vibrant blue color, soft to the touch. She picked it up, running her fingers gently over the fabric.*

*Tears welled up in her eyes as she held the scarf in her hands. It was a physical reminder of him, a physical connection to the man she loved. She couldn't bear the thought of throwing it away, of severing that connection forever.*

*But she also knew that she had promised him. She had promised that if he died, she would throw away the scarf. It was a promise she had made out of love and respect, a promise she now hated herself for making.*

*She looked down at the scarf in her hands, her heart heavy. She knew that she had to keep her promise, that she had to do what he had asked of her. But the thought of destroying the physical connection to him was like a dagger to her heart.*

*She took the scarf to the bathroom and stood over the sink. She stared down at it, the bright blue fabric a stark contrast against the white porcelain. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, then opened them again, looking at the scarf with a mixture of sadness and resignation.*

*Her hand trembled as she reached out to the faucet, turning on the water. The sound of the running water filled the small bathroom, the stream of water hitting the scarf, soaking it through. She watched as the water turned the blue fabric darker and darker, until it was completely saturated.*

*She turned off the water and held the dripping scarf in her hands. It was heavy now, waterlogged and lifeless. The last physical link to Dawood was gone, destroyed by her own hand.*

*She looked at the dripping scarf for a moment, her mind a jumble of thoughts. She felt both relieved and devastated, both guilty and free. She had kept her promise to him, but at what cost? The scarf was gone, and with it, a part of her heart.*

*She walked over to the garbage bin and with a heavy heart, she threw the sodden scarf away. It hit the bottom of the bin with a dull thud, and she felt a rush of sadness and finality.*

*She returned to bed, feeling empty and alone. The night seemed darker, the silence more deafening. She closed her eyes, trying to sleep, but her mind was racing. The image of the scarf in the bin kept replaying in her mind, taunting her with the knowledge that she had destroyed something so precious.*

*She lay there for hours, tossing and turning in the sheets. The hours ticked by, marked by the occasional car passing by outside, or the sound of a dog barking in the distance. She felt like time had slowed down, every minute seeming to stretch into eternity.*

*an important news on the channel, something captured in their drone*

*The sudden sound of the television snapped her out of her thoughts. She sat up in bed, her heart racing. A sense of hope and dread washed over her as she listened to the news presenter's words.*

*The drone had captured the severely injured and unconscious body at village which was beside the crossing river, it's a two days of distance from Helena to him, the drown was live capturing a girl which is the same age of Dawood, got Dawood's unconscious body up from water*