In the deserted ruins outside the city, Arman discovered an ancient brass lamp buried beneath blackened stones. The moment he rubbed it, the air turned cold and
a shadow rose, shaping itself into a jinn with glowing eyes and a crooked smile.
“I grant wishes,” the jinn whispered, “but every gift has a price.”
Greed blinded Arman. He wished for endless wealth. By morning, his bank
account overflowed, but his younger brother fell mysteriously ill. Ignoring the warning, Arman wished for fame. His face appeared everywhere, yet his parents died in a sudden accident that same night.
Terrified, Arman confronted the jinn.
“You’re killing my family!”
The jinn laughed softly. “I only take what you love most. Balance must be paid.”
Desperate to undo everything, Arman wished to erase the wishes. The jinn’s smile faded. “Final wish accepted.”
The world went silent.
Neighbors later found the ruins empty, except
for the old lamp—and Arman’s name carved into it, glowing faintly. Some say on moonless nights, a new voice can be heard from the lamp, begging strangers not to make a wish.
Because the jinn is still waiting… and the price is always higher than expected.
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