'HHIIISSSS'

The tires of the white Mercedes screech with a sharp right turn as Krishant speeds across the wet streets, rushing people out of his way. He was in a hurry, pushing the accelerator with a mind barely focused on the inconsiderable traffic.

He understood the need to hurry, but mostly because he was enraged. Chaudhary was his pawn with no significant right to rebel, but he did. He lashed out at Krishant with absurd verbal abuse and accusations. They both shared the same worry, Jamal Faruqui, but Krishant was confident about taking care of him. Bharat Chaudhary did not think the same. He thought arrogant Krishant had messed up big time this time, and his immense involvement would drag him down with him.

Krishant swore to get rid of Chaudhary after dealing with Priyanka and Faruqui.

Apparently, Chaudhary received an early morning text, attached with a file, framing his malfeasances throughout his journey as an official. It had an accuracy that terrified Chaudhary, with evidence hooked systematically, along with the video clips. The second text reached him fifteen minutes later, stating an address and an invitation for Sanghvi. Chaudhary figured out the source of the text, Jamal Faruqui.

Krishant meticulously looked at the forwarded address as the navigation guided him. It was an abandoned hospital in Pune. Julian had a history of being born there. His mother had died there but now it stood abandoned.

Though Chaudhary had advised Krishant to cut a deal with Faruqui only, Krishant had no intention of doing so. He would show Faruqui that he messed with the wrong guy.

He'd pay for this.

Arriving there in such a short time, he hurried outside to locate a car parked not far from him. Approaching the red SUV, he plunged out the air from its tyres before proximate the abandoned-burned-down building.

It was a four-story dwelling, thoroughly destroyed from interior and exterior while still standing, ruining the lookout of the beautiful pose of Pune. Krishant was ten when the fire outbreak scattered the central hospital. Somehow, Raman convinced the little Krishant that it was his fault until later years clarified it as absurd.

The rotten and rusted fallen apart ceilings indulged foul smell in the air, with rivulets obstructing the straight pathway in the aftermath of the rain.

'You are the love of my life...' He heard the voice echoing through the electronic device. 'I have given you everything of mine, and I'll give you more.' The voice belonged to Roshini Ahuja, words accompanied by her laughter. 'Krish, I love you so much.' He hastened to the upper floor, following the voice, which was now changed to Rani, repeating the exact words.

The fuck is he trynna do?

The third floor was his final destiny. His eyes wandered around the hallway for the presence of his impending victim. Breathing heavily, he grabs a wooden plank nearby with the intention to use it soon rather than keeping for safety and approaches the last room in the hallway.

With stealthy steps and still following the voices, he closes to the room. The light was coming from the projector running his memories with Rosy and Rani.

'Paint me, Krish. Paint me red with your love.' The film dies out after Krishant smashes the projector.

"You did paint them red." Faruqui satirizes from behind.

"You broke into my house." Krishant challenges.

"Nah. That was not me." They stood twenty feet apart inside the once-general ward of the hospital.

Priyanka not only discovered the bloodied jars and the identity of Roshini, Rani, and Monica during her search of the mansion but also the videotapes that Krishant had long forgotten.

"Why are you doing this?" Krishant cut to the chase, "We don't even know each other."

"I know Priyanka. That should be enough."

"Why do you care, though?" Faruqui stayed silent, elaborating reasons for Krishant in his head. "Who's she to you? Is she your girlfriend? Because she obviously ain't mine." His hysteric laughter echoes through the empty walls. "I thought you were married."

"Of course, I am married and happy. My wife is very much happy and in love with me, unlike you, who couldn't even truly love back one girl in life."

"Really? Then why are you with Priya?"

"She's my client and a friend. I am just looking out for her. Additionally, I love seeing people like you behind bars."

"Too confident, aren't we?" Krishant relaxes, leaving the wooden plank he intended to use alone. The facade of stoicism would work here, he thought before expressing impassivity. Krishant was a righteous prude; he was boring Faruqui to death.

"Let's be more straightforward--"

"Why...this place?"

Faruqui thoughtfully observes the rotten corners, dripping water from the exposed and burned pipes, "I was born here, and I thought we could use some privacy. The conversation we are about to have is totally not sensitive."

"I am not here for settlements."

"Then why are you here?"

Krishant only smirks at the rigid man.

"Then I will tell you what I really want."

"I am not paying you a single penny."

It annoys Faruqui quickly, "Not everyone is as low as you. I am not here for that kind of settlement. And you know what? You can't really buy everything in this world, not love, not loyalty, and definitely not me."

"And you know what I hate the most in the world?" Krishant decided on a surprise attack as he neared the tall man before grabbing his pocket knife, "The things I can't buy and loneliness."

"Sounds like you."

Without letting a second to process, Krishant abruptly spins his pocket jack knife to slash open detective's neck, but Faruqui blocks it and throws the force of his arms against Krishant's chest, resulting in him stumbling in surprise and meeting the hard surface. The knife falls out of his hand.

He goes for the wooden plan, attacking the shocked Faruqui.

Out of pure reflexes, Faruqui ducks out of the way before grabbing the plank and ripping it out of his duel's grip while landing a hardcore punch in his abdomen.

Faruqui also managed another punch to his face. "Stand down, Sanghvi."

Krishant was beyond repairable but also immensely unpredictably wild. He would attempt such a bizarre attack that Faruqui never thought of it. Only malice runs through his head, not even caring who lives and dies.

Faruqui's experience with delinquents before seemed like a joke in front of Krishant's crime history as the real essence of the motive was missing. He killed out of rage and fun, not out of self-defense. Sanghvi also did not show any symptoms of psychosis.

"I am here for Priyanka and not to fight you," Faruqui warns without even breaking a sweat.

Krishant was bleeding from only one smash. He couldn't win against Faruqui's martial reflexes by only his fight instincts. He had the advantage of muscles and his six feet height in front of Rosy, Rani, Monica, and every other person he had a brawl with, but Faruqui was a much stronger and more competent fighter. Krishant has to trust his wits.

"Where is Priya, Sanghvi?" Faruqui looms over his resting figure, figuring Krishant never had a punch as his before. He would've laughed at the other combatant finishing with him in the ring for possessing such amateur skills, but Krishant is not someone he should be laughing with or take him lightly.

Krishant only stared at him with lost eyes, confounding Faruqui with his puzzling state.

The older detective set his foot on his throbbing heart with the natural weight of his shoe-wrapped leg hitting his chest. That got Krishant's attention. He least expected this reaction from Faruqui.

He deemed confusion to blur his judgment. Hostility was the hardly expected reaction.

"I know you've done something to her." He fumed at the thought of impaired Priyanka, helpless and hoping Faruqui to rescue her. He started crushing him more when replied with emptiness, causing Krishant to groan in slight pain. "I swear, Sanghvi. If anything happens to Priyanka..." His face flushes in anger.

Krishant manages to get his foot off his chest as Faruqui lets him. "I can do worst to you, and no one can save you here, Sanghvi. Do not test me." Krishant recognized the importance of cooperation and the necessity of biding his time. He understood that Faruqui was no easy adversary to placate. With a keen insight into his tactics, Krishant was determined to remain vigilant, knowing that the right opportunity would eventually present itself. The challenge was not just a test of patience but a strategic dance, one that he was ready to navigate with finesse.

Though Krishant underestimated him.

"Priya? He stands up, "I don't know what happened to her." Faruqui immediately yanked him by his collar, hissing at him. "I-I am not lying. She-She left yesterday with her brother." Krishant discovered he could stutter in front of people other than his father.

"Vijay doesn't know where she is." Faruqui lost the last of his control and started punching Krishant in the face, making both of them fall onto the dirty floor. The abrupt ambush stunned the murderer and he couldn't react in self-defence in time. He took three solid punches that broke his nose, oozing blood, while the following two punches landed on his eyes.

Faruqui felt pure rage.

He again yanked him up before colliding Krishant with the pillar, cracking it, seeking a strong cry at the painful impact. Every part of his body was in pain, and his head felt dizzy after colliding with the pillar.

"Stop!" he managed to mumble, making it inaudible to Faruqui.

"I'll ask you one last time." Krishant somehow managed his dizziness and located his knife only five feet away from them. He had to act faster than ever now or slower than a sloth.

Collapsing, he laid flat upon his back, pretending to be weak and resting. Faruqui appeared to be inundated by fury that he failed to notice Krishant extending his arms in an attempt to reach for the knife.

Faruqui unintentionally distracted him with a kick on his ribs, causing crouching agony to Krishant. "Where is Priyanka?" Again when Krishant failed to answer, Faruqui landed another kick on his abdomen, gaining only screams from crouching Krishant.

When Faruqui didn't stop, "I KILLED HER!" Julian lied. "SHE'S DEAD!"

It was enough to astrayed the detective from assaulting him more. While Faruqui interpreted his words, Krishant accumulated every ounce of his strength before sinking the knife right into Faruqui's ankle, making him fall over by the fatal weapon.

His agonized and helpless body was again punctured by the same pocket knife after Krishant tore it out of his ankle. His screams echoed throughout the building, falling onto Sanghvi's merciless ears.

Without sparing a chance to protest, the murderer kept puncturing his body twenty more times with an unknown bloodthirst thriving his rage.

Jamal Faruqui acknowledged his dying heart, remembering his favorite three girls in the whole world as a tear slipped from his unfocused eyes at the thought of never seeing them again.

Sanghvi collapsed beside his latest victim and witnessed him sighing heavily before closing his eyes.

Why is it always so easy to kill them?

__________

Rest in peace good man, Faruqui:(