Prologue
20:05 pm, 31st December 2013, Kashmir, India
He stands in front of the stately mansion surveying it. Jack Frost air of Kashmir palpitating at his hair and features, chilling him to the core. He’s been examining it like a hawk for over a week now. Today’s finally the day to make a move. The reason behind all the torture he had to endure since childhood has to be retaliated. Their evil deeds would cause their demise, after all. He knows what he has to do very well and how sleekly. Although he decided to make her suffer for at least a while giving her a dose of her own medicine. He smiles devilishly at that.
“The devil’s supreme decoy is to coax you in to believing that he doesn’t exist and here I am The Devil himself, standing at your threshold to lure you away from your deplorable epoch to the path of repentance and emancipation. ” imitating a gravely tone he mocks, making his way to the back of the house and sneaks in through the rear end door, then silently ascends the stairs to the second floor and finds the room he intended to do his business in first. He couldn’t afford any distraction and the kid will definitely be one if he doesn’t shut her up beforehand. He finds her sleeping soundly on the bed, and sits slowly at the end. It wasn’t really her fault, but the more he looks at her, the more furious he becomes. The kid mumbles something unintelligible while stirring. After a while her eyes flutter open and she sees him staring at her intensely.
“I’m sorry baby sister.” He says and before she could make any sound he wrings her neck promptly.
Coming downstairs he moves like a panther in search of his prey. He hears two people having a heated conversation in the living room. He peeks and sees her seated on the couch, frustration clouding her delicate face, then he notices the suited man sitting beside her. He smirks, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Without being noticed by them he turns off the main switch of the house letting darkness envelope them.
“What happened?” Mr. Singh asks, annoyed.
“Go check.” Martha frowns.
He stands at the doorway waiting for the dupe to come near. Mr. Singh gets up and makes his way blindly to the doorway without a hint of what’s coming next. When he nears the door someone grabs his neck from behind and jabs something sharp in his stomach. He shrieks in agony, but the assailant slits his throat before he makes anymore damage to his ear.
“Guru, what’s wrong? Guru” Martha’s voice shakes, her little body trembling in fright.
He smiles a triumphant smile. He can almost taste the terror attenuating her. He heads toward the couch where she is standing and takes out his lighter from his pocket.
“This would be fun.”
He can make out her silhouette. She’s searching for something to light up the room. He moves effortlessly and lights up his lighter.
“Rifling through for this?” He drawls near her ear. She whirls around to a very familiar pair of byzantium eyes.
“Well hello mother!” He greets her mockingly and begins to slash her throat barbarously lengthening her misery. Blood oozes from the cut and gurgling sounds come from her throat while she hits the floor with a thud.
He goes to turn on the lights with a very satisfied grin on his face. Then he comes back to the living room to admire his performance. He finds her trying to say something to him, leaning against the couch he takes <