Story Sutra – Story 2 – Kaal: 499 and Counting: Chapter 6 – Kaal’s First Kill

By
Anurag
-
0
110
Kaal: 499 and Counting
Kaal - 499 and counting is the story of a serial killer that went unnoticed for 27 years - Chapter 6 (mage: Generated using Dall-E)

16 January 1990

Finally! I feel better now. It wasn’t easy, though. But overall, it was fun. For a moment, I thought I’d never be able to kill someone. Killing a person… oh wow! Why the hell was I holding back from killing a person? Not only was finding animals hard, but it was also a mess. Those little bastards were difficult to catch. This was much easier. No one will even know. I’ll do this again, but I have to wait a while. I need to make sure no one finds out what happened to them.

Am I going to miss them? I don’t know. They were my parents, after all. But watching their bloodied bodies was far more exciting than living with them all these years. I might never have gathered the courage to hit him, but the way he hit me was unforgivable. Who told him to pick up the bat, anyway? I can’t get over the fact that he bought the bat for me. He wanted me to focus on something other than chasing animals and reading crime novels.

I think he wanted to bring peace to the house after he burned my books that day. But that was my collection. I spent years gathering those books. I didn’t say a word, but somewhere inside, I was hurt, and it still hurt. But not anymore. My revenge is complete, I guess.

I wonder if he thought his thin, filthy body was stronger than mine. He hit me with the bat multiple times. I can feel the pain now, but I was more interested in looking into his blood-filled eyes. How his eyes went red while hitting me excited me. The moment I held the bat to stop him from hitting me, it was an entirely different level of pleasure. His face turned white in an instant. One action, and his expression shifted from anger to worry in a split second. It was such an extraordinary feeling.

For a few moments, I enjoyed the blood dripping from my forehead. But there was so much frustration inside me that I had to react. When I grabbed the bat, he knew something was going to happen that he hadn’t anticipated. I could see it in his eyes. The only regret I have is that she came in the way. I would never have hit her. Who told her to try to stop me? Who told her to try to stop the person they both called a monster in front of Rastogi?

But I loved her. She was my mother. Much more than I loved him. But coming in my way was unacceptable. That was my moment—the moment I’d been waiting for a long time. Though I never thought it would be my parents, I honestly am going to miss her a lot. It was only because of her that I hadn’t acted on my thoughts before. I have mixed feelings about what happened, but this strange feeling will fade sooner or later.

I still get goosebumps thinking about the first blow I dealt to Abba’s head. The moment I took the bat from his hand, I could see his mind racing to find a way to save himself. But it was too late for him. The horror in his eyes was striking. The anger he had toward me vanished, and I could see he was about to fold his hands and beg me not to kill him. I didn’t let it reach that point.

For a few moments, the room was completely silent. It was the same eerie silence I had experienced while sitting in the graveyard. I couldn’t hear anything. I just kept hitting him. The first sound that broke through was Ammi trying to stop me. I do remember looking at her. She was screaming at me, ordering me to stop, begging me. But I don’t know what happened next or how it happened. I only remember seeing her lifeless on the floor. It took just two hits for her soul to leave her body. Her fragile head was split open, and that made me even angrier.

When I looked back at him, he still had some life left. I suddenly realized there was something warm on my face. It was his blood. Warm, red, and soothing human blood. The passion I felt was overwhelming. I touched his broken, blood-soaked body. I could tell he wanted to die and escape the pain. I obliged. A few more hits, and he was gone. I was sitting in the middle of two dead bodies. I know I was smiling. It was unbelievable.

I didn’t want to do this, but I’m glad it happened. I don’t know when I’ll get another chance, but I’m sure I’ll plan it better next time. I can’t let anyone find out. I can’t have a bloody floor again. It’s hard to clean. Until next time, I need to learn a lot. Maybe this is the beginning of my journey—the beautiful journey that I would cherish without telling anyone.

“RK… RK… are you listening to me? RK!!!” I heard my wife Ritika’s voice rising in frustration. I was so absorbed in the journal that I didn’t hear her calling me for dinner.

“RK… what are you reading? I told you not to bring work home. How many times do we have to talk about this? You need to stop doing this.” I was speechless. I put the journal away and went to have dinner.

Ritika is a public prosecutor and works in my department. When I was asked to join the department, she was called too. They knew we wanted to be in the same city, and that was why I had shifted out of Delhi in the first place, but that’s a story for another time.

“Ritu, you need to listen to me patiently. Initially, we thought we were hunting a terrorist organization. But this is not something we come across every day. I brought the journal because I couldn’t let go of what we saw in the basement. I need your help with this.”

“Stop talking. What is going on? What’s so important about this case that you can’t keep the promises you made?” I could sense the frustration in her voice, and she was right. I always brought work home, which didn’t go well for our relationship. But this case was different, and somehow I knew she would understand.

“Wait. Let me bring the journal….” I could hear her yelling not to leave the table, but this wasn’t a typical case, and I couldn’t stop myself from showing her why I was acting this way. “Read. Just read it for a few minutes.”

She looked at me… “I will. But first, finish dinner.” She kept looking at me as I showed no interest in the food. I was staring at the journal.

“Alright. I can’t eat like this. Give it to me.” She spent 20 minutes reading the first sections of the journal. Her expression quickly changed. She looked at me with many questions. “Is this a joke? Are you seriously considering this to be true? This could just be a story he wrote.”

“No, Ritu, I’m serious. This is all true. We were wrong about what was going on in that society. There were so many photographs, and we counted 49 people. We’re sure he killed at least 49 people and catalogued every single detail of his crimes.” She couldn’t believe that no one knew a serial killer was operating in Delhi.

Looking at her serious face, I could only imagine what was in store for us the next day at the office. From this moment on, for the next 18 months, our personal lives wouldn’t matter. I called my team and asked them to set up a replica of the crime scene and a war room as soon as possible.

List of Chapters:

© Lekhak Anurag. Any unauthorised reproduction, personal or commercial, without permission is prohibited. For reproduction or commercial use of the story, please ping me on mailme[at]lekhakanurag.com.

Disclaimer: All the stories under #StorySutra are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author does not intend to malign any individual, group, or organisation.

RELATED ARTICLESMORE FROM AUTHOR

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here