A treacherous vulture's duplicity led to ruin

In the mysterious of corporate corridors and whispered secrets, there lurked a figure whose cunning was as sharp as a serpent’s fangs. He cloaked himself in the guise of friendship, weaving a web of trust with the unsuspecting, only to turn that trust into a trap. His eyes gleamed with a calculating glint, always seeking an opportune moment to strike, to pounce on the vulnerable prey he had carefully circled. Behind the facade of camaraderie lay a heart cold and devoid of genuine loyalty, driven solely by self-interest and a hunger for dominance.

He had a way of speaking softly, with a practiced charm that disarmed suspicion. “We’re in this together,” he’d say, flashing a disarming smile, the kind that made others believe in the sincerity of his words. But beneath that veneer was a mind working tirelessly to plot, to exploit every weakness. He knew the fragile ego of the colleague who trusted him, knew the ambitions that fueled his dreams, and patiently waited for the right moment to strike.

The colleague, earnest and full of hope, had poured his heart into a new business venture. It was a gamble, but one he believed in wholeheartedly. With passion burning in his eyes, he confided in his supposed friend about his plans, sharing ideas, strategies, and visions for the future. “This could be big,” he had said, a spark of optimism lighting his voice. The cunning man listened intently, nodding as if genuinely interested, all the while cataloging every detail for later use.

As the venture grew, so did the trust between them. The colleague began to see the other as more than just a coworker; he saw a confidant, an ally. Little did he know that this perceived friendship was nothing but a mask hiding a vulture waiting to swoop. When the time was ripe, the cunning man saw his chance. He whispered doubts into the ears of others, subtly sowing discord. He spread rumors, manipulated perceptions, and created an environment of suspicion.

One day, as the launch of the new business approached, the atmosphere was tense. The colleague was busy preparing for what he believed would be a breakthrough moment. The cunning man, meanwhile, played his part perfectly, appearing supportive on the surface but secretly working behind the scenes to undermine everything. When the launch finally happened, and the venture showed promise, the vulture struck.

He presented fabricated evidence, twisted facts, and planted seeds of doubt among the higher-ups. “There’s been mismanagement,” he claimed, “perhaps even some dishonesty.” His words, laden with insinuation, found fertile ground in the ears of those in power. The colleague was blindsided, caught off guard by the sudden accusations. His reputation, once solid and respected, now trembled on the brink of collapse. Moreover, this guy sudden withdrew his support. The partners involved were under the impression that this guy will support the business venture. But this was a severe blow to everyone and they understood that the venture will be difficult to succeed!

The repercussions were swift and brutal. The betrayal cut deep. It was as if the ground beneath him had shifted, leaving him stranded in a foreign land, far from the familiar comfort of his home country. His dreams shattered, he faced the harsh reality of starting anew, this time in a distant country where unfamiliar faces and strange customs greeted him. However, this was a blessing in disguise. He boldly took up a job abroad. He found this a lucrative job and was successful within no time! He didn't hesitate a bit even though this was a difficult decision to leave behind his family. 

The treacherous guy didn't understand the inner strength and resilience the other guy had. He never imagined this innocent looking guy will take drastic and brave steps to survive and become successful. This was a major flaw on his side; he didn't anticipate such a move. He thought this guy would crumble and perish. However, this cunning vulture spread rumours about the other guy's family, even the small children were not spared. But he never thought all these will backfire one day. Karma is something which he was not aware, only a very few close to him understood his sadistic mentality!

Meanwhile, the cunning manipulator, reveling in his perceived victory, did not find peace. His triumph was fleeting. The web of deceit, once so neatly woven, began to unravel. Rumors of his treachery spread like wildfire, and enemies he thought he had bought or subdued turned against him. The very alliances he forged with those who despised him turned into chains, binding him in a web of suspicion and hostility. He suffered a lot of personal and professional losses. He didn't have anyone loyal to him. Even his close relatives and the so called acquaintances didn't have any real connection with him.

His personal life also crumbled under the weight of his treachery. Relationships, built on lies and deception, fractured beyond repair. Friends who had once been close saw through his veneer. Professional setbacks followed him like shadows—failed ventures, lost opportunities, and a reputation tarnished beyond recognition. The very cunning that had helped him manipulate others now became his undoing, as his duplicity caught up with him.

He faced a series of misfortunes that seemed almost poetic in their cruelty. He lost not only professional standing but also the respect of colleagues and friends. His health deteriorated as stress and guilt gnawed at him from within. The loneliness was deafening; the victories he once fancied as his own now felt hollow and empty. He was left to ponder the cost of his deception, realizing, perhaps too late, that cunning without conscience is a double-edged sword that often cuts the wielder as deeply as it wounds others.

Throughout this ordeal, the colleague who had been betrayed found a strange form of resilience. Forced to leave his homeland, he took up a new job in a foreign land, a place where he knew no one and nothing seemed familiar. It was a humbling experience, but also one of renewal. He learned to rebuild from the ashes, to trust cautiously, and to value integrity above all else. The betrayal had left scars, but it also forged a new sense of strength and resolve.

In the end, the cunning man’s plans unraveled not just because of external forces but because of the internal rot that had taken root. His greed, deceit, and lack of genuine conviction became his undoing. The universe, in its own inscrutable way, had a way of balancing the scales. The vulture’s wings were clipped, and he found himself alone in a world that had no place for such treachery.

As for the betrayed colleague, he moved forward with a cautious hope, carrying the lessons of betrayal as a shield. He understood now that trust must be earned, and that false friends are often the most dangerous enemies. The path ahead was uncertain, but he was determined to walk it with integrity, leaving behind the shadows of deception and stepping into a future shaped by honesty and perseverance. The story of cunning and betrayal, of loss and redemption, became a silent testament to the enduring power of truth in a world riddled with deception.

Check out this DISCLAIMER before accessing this story

Liked this post? Well..., I have one more interesting blog, click here to check out the latest updates there too 😊

The Tale of the Pretender and Her Shadow

In the heart of a bustling city, where skyscrapers seemed to scrape the sky and influence whispered through marble corridors, there was a company infamous for its shady dealings. At its helm was a woman who loved to boast—loud, exaggerated, and full of false bravado. She fancied herself an influential power player, but in reality, she was nothing more than a cunning cheat living off deception and a sprinkle of bravado.

Her daily routine involved summoning her staff into meetings where she’d spin tales of grandeur—most of which involved her “close relative” and “trusted family member.” But everyone knew her stories were as fake as her designer handbags, crafted by a mind sharp with cunning, yet dirty with dishonesty.

Every month, she’d call her employees into the conference room, her eyes gleaming with false confidence. Her voice would rise, dripping with sarcasm and hubris.

"Oh, you didn’t hear? The mayor personally called me yesterday," she’d say with a smirk, crossing her arms. "He’s just dying to do business with us. Said I’m the only one who can get things moving in this city." (In reality, he probably just wanted her to stop calling him about “urgent” meetings she made up.)

One of her employees, secretly skeptical, would mutter under his breath, "Sure, and pigs fly too."

She’d ignore the comment, turning to another part of the room. "And let’s not forget the time I met with the city’s chief of police—yeah, he’s practically on my payroll now. No one else in this town can say that." Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she exaggerated her importance—though the only thing she “met” was a police officer at a local bar.

"They all listen when I speak. I’m the real power behind the scenes," she added with a sly grin, knowing full well she was bluffing—just like her claim that she “owns” the whole city.

Her staff, aware of her true nature, would exchange knowing looks. Some would whisper among themselves, sarcastic comments meant to cut through her bravado.

"Oh, look at her—she’s the queen of influence, claiming she’s the puppet master of the entire city," one joked quietly.

"Yeah, she’s got the mayor’s phone number on speed dial—if only that were true," another replied with a smirk.

She would catch snippets of their whispers, but instead of feeling threatened, she thrived on their doubt. It fed her need to appear more powerful than she was—like a kid playing dress-up in a designer suit.

"You guys are so cute, she sneered during one meeting, "believing my stories are just stories. You’ll see—I’ve got the city wrapped around my finger."(And probably also wrapped around her latest fake diamond ring.)

In reality, her influence was a house of cards, carefully maintained through lies and manipulation. Her confidence was a veneer hiding her true nature—a cunning, dirty schemer who cheated her way to the top, armed with nothing but a good fake smile.

Behind her polished facade was her secret weapon—her close relative, whom she claimed was her “trusted family member” and the “real owner” of the company. In truth, he was her sugar daddy—a shrewd and shady businessman who financed her empire and pulled the strings from behind the scenes.

She often boasted about this relative, spinning tales of their “close bond” and how he “supports” her.

"This is my family," she’d say, flashing a fake smile. "My close relative and mentor—he’s the reason I’m so successful." (Translation: he bankrolls her, and she’s a master at pretending she’s the boss.)

But in reality, he was her benefactor—her sugar daddy—who supplied her with the wealth, influence, and cover she needed to keep her facade intact. He was a master manipulator and a ruthless operator, building a web of corruption that she happily exploited.

In clandestine meetings, he would sit her down, cigarette in hand, and whisper instructions meant to sharpen her deception.

"Listen," he’d say, "if you want people to believe you’re powerful, you’ve got to sound convincing—no hesitation, no doubt. Confidence is the key. Fake it till you make it, and remember—if anyone asks, I’m your ‘trusted relative’."

He coached her on inflating her contacts, threatening employees with fake political backing, and spinning lies convincingly.

"When you say you’ve got the mayor’s phone number, make sure it sounds authentic," he’d advise. "Even if you don’t, it’s all about how you deliver it. People believe what they see, what they hear—so make it believable."

He emphasized the importance of sarcasm and bravado, teaching her to dismiss skeptics with a sneer and act as if she owned the city’s influence—though the only thing she truly owned was a closet full of fake Rolexes.

"You’re not just a manager,"he’d whisper with a sly grin. "You’re a queen of deception. Fake it with style. Make them think you’re untouchable."

Thanks to his coaching, she became an expert at bluffing her way through meetings, threatening her staff with fabricated stories, and hiding her lack of real influence behind a mask of arrogance. Her boastfulness, sarcasm, and fake influence were all carefully crafted tools—honed by her relative’s manipulative guidance.

Her ruthless nature was well-known in her circle. No employee dared to cross her or rub her the wrong way; she maintained her dominion through fear as much as deception. Anyone who dared challenge her authority or speak out of turn would find themselves swiftly terminated—disappearing overnight, replaced by someone more obedient and less likely to ask questions.

She was a cold, cruel woman—quick to dismiss, quicker to punish. Her threats were real, and her punishments harsher. She wielded her power mercilessly, knowing that fear kept her staff in line. Sarcastic and sharp-tongued, she reveled in her control, her arrogance growing with each intimidatory act.

"You step out of line," she’d sneer, "and you’ll be out on the street faster than you can blink. I don’t tolerate dissent." (Though, truthfully, she’d probably forget their names five minutes later.)

Her reputation was a house of cards, but she kept stacking it higher through lies, fake alliances, bribery—and ruthless ruthlessness. She was a master manipulator and a cruel tyrant, living off the shadows, always scheming.

No employee dared to rub her the wrong way; her temper was as sharp as her tongue. Challengers faced swift termination—she’d fire them on the spot, ruthlessly removing any threat to her fragile authority. Her cruelty was legendary; she wielded her power with an iron fist, ensuring that everyone remained obedient out of fear. However, there were whispers of both of them getting the taste of some 'physical experiences' when one or two angry employees barged into their dingy chambers bypassing security! Lol .... This incident makes employees laugh out loud during their private conversations!

Her reputation was built on a foundation of intimidation and deception. Sarcastic remarks about her behind her back were frequent, but none dared to challenge her face-to-face. She thrived in her role as a living lie—an exaggerated figure of influence and control, fueled by manipulation, threats, and ruthless cruelty. 

Despite her reputation being tarnished—whispers of corruption and dishonesty echoing in the industry—she and her shadowy relative continued their shady operations. They avoided legal trouble by operating in the shadows, their illicit wealth flowing beneath the surface. But what goes around comes around; it is Karma operating! Both of them had faced a lot of misfortune and sufferings that made their minds chaotic! None showed any sympathy to them! They all laughed at their plights behind their backs!

Her boastfulness persisted—an exaggerated display of power that kept her staff in awe (or fear). She was a living lie, a cunning cheat, and a cruel lady who had built her kingdom on deception, intimidation, and ruthless control—living off the dirt and shadows she so eagerly cultivated. 

Check out this DISCLAIMER before accessing this story

Liked this post? Well..., I have one more interesting blog, click here to check out the latest updates there too 😊

KemmeshhCrook: The commission agent who accuses others of commission

In the forsaken outskirts of the bustling seaside city, nestled amidst withered banyan trees and crumbling stone walls, stood a dilapidated mansion that many whispered was cursed. Its owner, KemmeshhCrook, was a man shrouded in infamy -a figure who exuded a peculiar blend of arrogance and cunning that made him the subject of fear and ridicule.

KemmeshhCrook was instantly recognizable by his thick, round spectacles, which magnified his eyes and lent him an unblinking stare that seemed to pierce through anyone who crossed his path. His gaze was unsettling - like a predator sizing up its prey, scrutinizing every movement, every word. It was said that once you met his gaze, you felt as if he was staring into your soul, dissecting your every weakness.

His unkempt hair was a greasy, tangled mop that hung loosely over his forehead, often falling into his eyes as he peered out with a piercing, hawk-like intensity. The disarray of his hair only added to his disreputable aura, making him appear as a perpetual outsider, a creature who thrived in chaos and disorder.

KemmeshhCrook styled himself as a scion of the so-called “elite caste,” a claim he brandished with ostentatious pride, though in truth, his origins were murky at best. His visage was unkempt; a greasy mop of hair often fell into his eyes, and his clothes, though once fine, had long since decayed into tatters. Yet, he paraded himself as a member of nobility, boasting loudly about his lineage to anyone willing to listen, even if none cared to believe him.

He was a master of duplicity - a man whose envious spirit burned with a relentless desire to outshine others, yet whose actions betrayed a deep-seated insecurity. His envy was palpable, simmering beneath a veneer of bravado. Whenever he saw someone succeed, he would scoff internally, his mind plotting ways to undermine or belittle them. And whenever he took on a new project or event, he always claimed it was through his own skill, never mentioning the “commission” he secretly took from the villagers or traders - though everyone knew he was the one always doing the scheming and cheating behind the scenes.

KemmeshhCrook was an inveterate gossiper, relishing the art of whispering secrets and spreading rumors. With a silver tongue and a penchant for malice, he reveled in poisoning the well of community trust. His words were like venomous darts - sharp, pointed, and often laced with falsehoods designed to discredit his rivals. No one was spared his malicious tongues - not the humble merchant, nor the respected elder, nor even the innocent children who played in the dust.

His sense of humor was cruel, often making fun of others behind their backs, mocking their shortcomings with biting sarcasm. He had an uncanny ability to twist truths into humiliating caricatures, thereby bolstering his own ego while humiliating others.

Despite his boastful claims of being from the “elite caste,” his morals were as sullied as his reputation. He was palpably dirty-minded, his thoughts often wandering into unspeakable realms. His trustworthiness was nonexistent; he was a consummate cheat and a thief cloaked in the guise of a businessman. He would often boast about how he secured “commissions” from various deals and arrangements, but in truth, he was the one orchestrating most of the treachery.

KemmeshhCrook also fancied himself as a healer of sorts. He performed folk remedy treatments, claiming to possess special knowledge passed down through “ancient traditions.” Villagers would approach him with ailments - fevers, wounds, and mysterious illnesses - and he would offer his dubious remedies. Sometimes, he would grind herbs, mix potions, or chant strange incantations, all the while watching with his piercing eyes behind his spectacles. Many believed he was genuinely trying to help, but in truth, his remedies often served to line his pockets or manipulate the desperate villagers through “commissions” he secretly took for his so-called treatments.

His folk treatments were a mixture of superstition, half-knowledge, and trickery. He would prescribe concoctions that smelled foul or dyes that stained the skin, claiming they had “powerful healing” properties. In some cases, he would sell expensive “herbal” mixtures - most of which were nothing more than colored water or crushed leaves bought cheaply from a local trader. His “cures” were often ineffective or even harmful, yet he would boast of miraculous recoveries to boost his reputation - and his income from the “commissions” he earned on each sale.

KemmeshhCrook thrived on deals - though his transactions were always shrouded in deception. He accepted commissions from all sides - be it for organizing events, brokering deals, or extracting bribes - yet he accused others of doing the very same thing. He was a master of projection, constantly pointing fingers at others, crying “commission!” and “betrayal!” whenever things went wrong - though the truth was, he was the one always scheming, cheating, and betraying behind the scenes, taking “commissions” left and right while accusing others of the same treachery.

His greed knew no bounds. On several occasions, he staged clandestine events - hidden gatherings where he would manipulate outcomes, siphon funds, and then accuse others of cheating or treachery. He would fabricate stories of betrayal and “conspiracies,” all while secretly orchestrating his own treacherous deeds and collecting “commissions” along the way.

His house, a decrepit mansion of dubious origin, was a place of superstition and fear. KemmeshhCrook himself propagated tales that it was cursed, warning villagers and ne’er-do-wells to stay away lest they suffer misfortune. “Stay clear of this unlucky house,” he would thunder, his voice echoing through the dusty streets. “No good ever comes from it.” Yet, in truth, his words served as a psychological barrier - keeping prying eyes at bay while he continued his clandestine dealings within, always seeking “commissions” from those who sought his dubious services.

His reputation for untrustworthiness was legendary. Trusting him was akin to playing with fire. His promises were flimsy, often made to lure victims into his web before betraying them at the last moment. He would craft agreements with a silver tongue, only to renege when it suited his whims, often accusing others of breach or dishonesty - yet he was the one constantly engaged in “commissions,” cheating and scheming behind their backs.

He was also a consummate thief - stealing money, jewelry, and valuables under the guise of organizing “events.” When confronted, he would feign innocence, twisting the narrative to depict himself as an innocent victim cheated by others. His accusations of betrayal were always aimed at others, while he secretly pocketed “commissions” from every fraudulent deal.

Despite his notoriety, a strange fascination surrounded him. Villagers whispered tales of his cunning, marveling at his ability to stay afloat despite the myriad scandals. They knew well that KemmeshhCrook was a man of unprincipled motives, yet they also recognized that his duplicity was his armor - his shield against the repercussions of his own misdeeds and “commissions.”

His envious nature was insatiable. Whenever he saw someone succeed legitimately, he seethed with jealousy, plotting to tarnish their reputation or steal their thunder. And yet, he was the one constantly accusing others of “commission,” “betrayal,” and “conspiracy,” all the while secretly engaging in those very acts himself - cheating, lying, and scheming behind their backs, always seeking “commissions” from his treacherous dealings.

His gossipy tendencies were relentless. No secret was safe from his lips, and he delighted in disseminating gossip - most of it false or exaggerated. He thrived on chaos, relishing the disarray his words could cause. His tongue was a double-edged sword - capable of both charm and destruction.

His piercing gaze and unkempt hair, combined with his spectacles, made him seem almost predatory - like a hawk ever watchful, ever waiting to pounce. His stare was relentless, unsettling, as if he was scrutinizing the very souls of those who dared approach him. Villagers often felt a shiver run down their spines whenever he turned those piercing eyes upon them, sensing that beneath his spectacles lay a mind always scheming, always calculating -always seeking “commissions” to line his pockets.

It is weird and strange that this aura of untrustworthy charm makes people fall into his trap. Some villagers, desperate or gullible, still engaged with him, unaware of his true nature. They believed his false bravado, his claims of nobility, and his promises of prosperity - blind to the fact that they were merely pawns in his game of deception and “commissions.”

In the end, KemmeshhCrook’s life was a testament to the corrupting influence of envy, greed, and duplicity. His house remained a haunted, forsaken relic, a symbol of his cursed existence. His reputation as a dishonest schemer persisted, and his name became synonymous with treachery and treason - all fueled by his constant pursuit of “commissions” from every deal, every scam, and every betrayal.

No matter how many schemes he hatched or how many fortunes he stole, he was ultimately a man who thrived on lies - an untrustworthy, dirty-minded, envious gossiper who boasted of nobility but dwelled in filth. His legacy was one of infamy, a cautionary tale whispered by villagers for generations to come.

Check out this DISCLAIMER before accessing this story

Liked this post? Well..., I have one more interesting blog, click here to check out the latest updates there too 😊