The rain was heavy that night.
Aryanshi looked outside the bus window. She was going to Rudra Palace, a very old mansion in the hills. She did not want to go, but she had no choice.
A week ago, she received a letter.
“Mr. Narayan Rao has been murdered. You are requested to attend the reading of his will.”
Narayan Rao was her grandfather. She had not met him in fifteen years.
She folded the letter and sighed.
“Why now?”
The mansion looked dark and lonely.
Thunder flashed in the sky.
As Aryanshi reached the entrance, the huge wooden door opened.
A tall man stood there.
He wore a black shirt with rolled-up sleeves.
His face was calm.
His eyes were dark.
He looked dangerous… but strangely attractive.
“You must be Aryanshi.”
His voice was deep.
“Yes.”
“I’m Varun.”
“You work here?”
He smiled.
“You can say that.”
Inside the mansion, six other people had already arrived.
Her uncle Rajesh.
Her aunt Kavita.
A famous lawyer.
A family doctor.
The old caretaker.
And Varun.
Nobody knew exactly who Varun was.
Whenever someone asked, he simply smiled.
The lawyer opened the will.
“Mr. Narayan Rao’s killer is among the people connected to this house.”
Everyone became silent.
“The property worth ₹800 crores will be given only after the murderer is found.”
Suddenly the lights went off.
Someone screamed.
When the lights came back…
The old caretaker was lying on the floor.
Dead.
His throat had been cut.
Beside him was a single red rose.
Panic spread.
Phones had no signal.
Heavy rain had destroyed the only bridge.
Nobody could leave.
The murderer was inside the mansion.
Aryanshi noticed something strange.
Everyone looked scared.
Except Varun.
He calmly checked the body.
Then quietly covered the caretaker with a white sheet.
“You don’t look shocked,” Aryanshi said.
“I’ve seen death before.”
“Where?”
He looked at her.
“In many places.”
He didn’t explain further.
That night Aryanshi couldn’t sleep.
She walked into the library.
She found Varun reading an old book.
“You also can’t sleep?”
“No.”
“You think someone here is the killer?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
He closed the book.
“The person everyone trusts the most.”
——-
The next morning…
The family doctor disappeared.
Later they found his body inside the temple near the garden.
Again…
A red rose was placed on his chest.
:::::::
The police still couldn’t reach them.
Rain continued.
Fear grew stronger.
Everyone started accusing each other.
::::::
Slowly, Aryanshi and Varun became close.
He always protected her.
He made tea for her when she looked tired.
He stood beside her whenever arguments started.
For the first time after many years…
Aryanshi felt safe.
::::::::
One evening they were standing on the balcony.
The rain had finally stopped.
“You know,” Varun said softly, “people don’t fall in love because someone is perfect.”
Aryanshi smiled.
“Then why?”
“They fall in love because someone makes them feel less lonely.”
She looked at him.
Their eyes met.
He gently held her hand.
“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
Neither did she.
Without thinking…
She hugged him.
::::::::
The next day…
Another murder.
The lawyer.
Locked inside his room.
No weapon.
No fingerprints.
Only another red rose.
::::
Now only four people remained.
Aryanshi.
Her uncle.
Her aunt.
Varun.
:::::
That night Aryanshi woke up after hearing footsteps.
She secretly followed them.
The footsteps stopped outside Varun’s room.
She waited until he left.
Then she quietly entered.
At first everything looked normal.
But inside a cupboard…
She found a hidden box.
Her heart stopped.
Inside were newspaper cuttings of every murder.
Blood-stained gloves.
A knife.
Photographs of every victim.
And one photograph of…
Her.
It had been taken years ago.
Long before they had met.
She stepped back in fear.
“No…”
She whispered.
The door slowly opened behind her.
Varun walked inside.
He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“You were never supposed to see that.”
Aryanshi’s eyes filled with tears.
“You killed them?”
“Yes.”
Her body shook.
“Why?”
“They deserved it.”
“No one deserves murder!”
He looked at her quietly.
“You think your grandfather was a good man?”
“He wasn’t perfect…”
“Narayan Rao sold poor farmers’ land using fake papers.”
Aryanshi froze.
“The lawyer helped him.”
“The doctor gave false medical reports.”
“Your uncle killed a businessman for money.”
“Your aunt poisoned her own sister.”
“They all destroyed innocent lives.”
He took out files from another drawer.
“Read these.”
She opened them.
There were police reports.
Bank records.
Videos.
Everything proved they were guilty.
“But why didn’t you go to the police?”
He laughed.
“Because half the police were taking money from Narayan Rao.”
She looked at him with tears.
“So you became the judge?”
“No.”
“I became the punishment.”
⸻
She couldn’t believe the man she loved was standing in front of her like this.
“You lied to me.”
“I never lied about loving you.”
“You used me.”
“I protected you., I was protecting you from your own family “
“You are a murderer.”
“Yes I am ”
He didn’t deny it.
“I have killed many people.”
His voice remained calm.
“I stopped counting after fifty.”
Aryanshi felt sick.
He looked at her with pain in his eyes.
“I wanted you to know the real me.”
“The real you is a monster.”
“Maybe.”
“But I still love you.”
.⸻—
He placed a pistol on the table.
“If you believe I deserve death…”
He pushed the gun towards her.
“…then shoot me.”
Aryanshi picked up the gun.
Her hands were shaking.
She remembered every smile.
Every cup of tea.,Every kind word.Every hug.,
Were those moments fake?
No.
That was the worst part.
His love had been real.
But so were the murders.
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
“I loved you, I thought found a best friend, I…I thought..”
“Arya I….-
“Don’t take my name , Iwish I had never met you.”
He smiled sadly.
She aimed the gun.
Tears rolled down her face.
He stood without moving.
No fear.
No regret.
Only sadness.
“I will love you,” he said softly, “even if you become the one who ends my story.”
A loud gunshot echoed through the room.
!!!!!!!
When the police finally entered the mansion…
They found only one body.
Aryanshi had disappeared.
No one knew whether she had killed Varun…
Or whether Varun had escaped after making it look that way.
The case remained unsolved.
⸻
Three years later…
A powerful corrupt minister was found dead in his farmhouse.
There were no fingerprints.
No witnesses.
Only a single red rose on his chest.
Beside it was a small handwritten note:
“Some monsters wear suits. Someone has to stop them.”
No one ever discovered who left that note.
But somewhere, in another city…
A man with dark eyes smiled as he disappeared into the crowd.
