The Sinister

1.

“Shh… he is walking toward us” a lady whispers to her little child, pulling him close to her chest. Her arms tighten around his small body as fear grips her completely. The child looks so terrified that he quickly hides his face in his mother’s arms, his tiny fingers clutching her clothes.

His body trembles nonstop. The mother slowly lifts one hand and covers his eyes not wanting him to see anything. She herself lowers her gaze, her heart pounding loudly in her chest.

The heavy sound of footsteps echoes on the empty road. The dark night sky feels even darker, thick with fear.

“Take him out!” a man in his thirties shouts loudly, his voice sharp and commanding.

Everyone freezes.

He is none other than Mr. Grover.

The guards immediately spring into action. Without wasting a second, they run towards a car that is badly trashed, its metal bent and broken under the dim streetlight. The glass is shattered, pieces scattered on the road.

The guards open the door forcefully and drag a half-dead man out of the car. His body is weak, covered in blood and dust. He barely resists. They pull him roughly and throw him on the road, right in front of their boss.

The man hits the ground hard with a painful thud. He struggles to lift his head, his body shaking badly.

“S… sir, please… kill me…” the man lying on the floor begs, his voice broken and filled with fear. He looks up with watery eyes, knowing there is no escape.

A thick, cold voice echoes on the silent road, sending chills through everyone present.

“Itne bure nahi hai hum ki insaano ki jaan le” The man freezes. Hope flashes in his eyes for just a second.

But the next words crush it completely. “Balki had se zyada bure hai ki insaan ko khud ki jaan lene par majboor kar de” The boss slightly tilts his head, his expression calm and emotionless. His eyes hold no mercy, only darkness.

(I’m not so bad that I would take a person’s life…

but I am bad enough to force them to take their own.)

He slowly signals his secretary, Mr. Grover. Mr. Grover understands immediately.

Without hesitation, he throws a knife towards the man on the ground. The knife slides and stops near his trembling hand. The man stares at it in horror.

With no other choice left, he picks up the knife. Crying helplessly, he presses the knife hard against his own neck. His movements are desperate yet strangely calm, as if he has already accepted his fate. In one painful moment, he cuts deep.

Blood spills instantly.

His body thrashes violently on the road, his legs kicking, his hands clawing the ground. His cries slowly fade into choking sounds. Within moments, his movements stop completely.

In no time, he dies right there on the spot.

Silence falls again.

“He is truly a sinister…” a man whispers slowly to himself, his voice barely audible, as his eyes remain fixed on the cruel sight in front of him. Fear tightens his chest when he looks at how merciless the man is.

And that man is none other than Zayran Kaalver.

Zayran turns around calmly. His face shows no emotion, no regret, no anger, nothing at all. He starts walking towards his car. Each step he takes feels like a heavy weight pressing down on everyone’s soul.

The sound of his footsteps echoes loudly in the silence. Every single person present on the road immediately lowers their head or turns their face away.

No one dares to look at him. No one dares to stand close to him.

Zayran reaches his car and sits inside slowly and loosens his tie, pulling it away from his neck. He takes a deep breath, as if releasing some pressure. His chest rises and falls once. He then turns his head and looks outside the window.

Outside, people slowly start moving again. Shopkeepers return to their shops, guards go back to their positions and bystanders walk away with shivering legs.

Fear is clearly visible in their eyes. Their movements are hurried, nervous and restless, as if they want to disappear as soon as possible.

“Why are they all scared of me, Grover?” Zayran asks softly. His voice is slow and gentle, almost like the most innocent creature on the planet.

“They are not scared, sir. They respect you. And out of respect, they did not look at you nor try to walk close to you” Grover replies smoothly. His voice is steady, as always trying to make his boss look perfect in his own eyes.

“Good” Zayran says simply. He closes his eyes and rests his head back against the seat, looking completely relaxed.

The car engine starts and the vehicle slowly moves forward, driving through the roads of Velqar.

As Zayran’s car passes by, the air itself seems to turn cold. An uneasy silence spreads through the streets.

The dead body is still lying on the side of the road, lifeless and covered in blood.

Police arrive in no time. Their vehicles stop abruptly, lights flashing. An officer steps out and looks at the body, his face tightening in shock and disgust. The man is barely recognizable.

“Who did this?” the officer shouts loudly, his voice echoing in the night as he looks around angrily.

“He himself cut his throat” a man answers from a little distance, his voice shaky.

The officer looks at the man for a moment. Then his gaze slowly shifts towards the direction where Zayran’s car is moving away, disappearing into the darkness.

“I know he is the one who killed him” the officer says while gritting his teeth. His jaw tightens in anger and his hands curl into fists. Frustration is clearly visible on his face but he has nothing solid to hold onto.

“No, sir. We don’t have any proof. And look at the CCTV footage, he didn’t even touch this person, let alone kill him” the constable says carefully. He holds the device forward, showing the footage of the area. His voice is respectful but firm, stating facts.

The officer stares at the CCTV screen. The footage clearly shows everything. Zayran never lays a finger on the man. The officer closes his eyes tightly in frustration, letting out a sharp breath through his nose.

“Take the body!” he shouts angrily.

He turns away and moves inside the jeep, slamming the door shut.

And just like that, this case is also going to close, just like every case related to Zayran, because there is not even a single piece of proof against him.

On the other side, Zayran’s cars move fast and enter the most luxurious and biggest mansion of Velqar. A huge iron gate stands tall and firm, so massive that it doesn’t allow even the slightest view of what is inside.

As the gates open, the mansion in front appears no less than a heavenly sight. The night is dark but the mansion shines brightly like a star in the night sky.

The mansion has three floors, standing grand and powerful. The white marble of the mansion glows under the bright lights, reflecting elegance and wealth.

A huge lion fountain is placed at the front of the mansion, water flowing smoothly from its mouth, adding to the intimidating beauty of the place.

A guard immediately steps forward and opens the door for his boss. Zayran steps out of the car and starts moving towards the mansion with long, confident strides.

His eyes remain fixed straight ahead, cold and unreadable. His hair moves slightly with each step. Half of his hair is carelessly tied in a half man bun, making his sharp features look even more dangerous.

A dragon head tattoo peeks out from his shoulder, visible under his clothes, adding to his fearsome presence. He walks inside the mansion, carrying the same dark silence with him.

“Zayran, where were you?” a lady’s voice comes from behind him just as he is about to walk upstairs towards his room.

Zayran stops mid-step. His shoulders stiffen slightly. He takes a slow, controlled breath, as if holding back something heavy inside him.

“In the place I was always meant to be” he replies shortly, his voice cold and distant.

Without turning back even once, he starts walking upstairs towards his room. He doesn’t care to look at his mother, Pallavi Kaalver.

She stands there silently, watching his back as he walks away from her. Her lips part slightly but no words come out. Hurt fills her eyes, pain settling deep in her chest, yet she says nothing.

Zayran enters his room and shuts the door behind him. He removes his coat and throws it aside carelessly. He doesn’t wait even a second. He walks straight towards the bathroom, removing his clothes on the way.

Soon, he steps under the shower and turns on the tap. Water pours down on him, washing over his body. He stands still under the falling water, his head slightly tilted forward.

His long hair gets completely wet, strands sticking to his neck and shoulders. His back starts to shine as water flows over it, clearly showing his tattoos. There are not one or two, but many tattoos spread across his back, each one carrying a different story, a different past.

Before his mind can even begin to relax, loud knocking suddenly echoes through the room.

His jaw tightens.

He groans in irritation and turns off the shower. Stepping out, he grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist securely. Water drips down from his hair onto the floor as he walks out of the bathroom.

He moves towards his walk-in closet and takes out his nightwear. He starts wearing it slowly, calmly not giving even a bit of attention to the loud knocks on his door.

The knocking continues, impatient and sharp. He takes his time, adjusting his clothes properly, as if doing it on purpose.

After what feels like forever, he finally walks back into the room. He reaches the door and is about to open it...But then he hears from outside.

“Kahi bhai mar to nahi gaye?” Yuvan’s voice comes first from outside the door, filled with worry and curiosity.

(What if brother is dead?)

“Are bewakoof, itni jaldi nahi marege bhai. Aur jab wo marege na, to pura Velqar jashn manayega. Itna sannata thodi hoga” Omkar’s voice follows immediately.

(Idiot, brother won’t die so easily. And when he does die, the whole Velqar will celebrate. There wouldn’t be such silence then)

“Are you both crazy? Apne bhai ke baare mein aisi baatein karte ho, sharam nahi aati kya? Aur waise bhi unke marne mein abhi time hai” Ishita shouts angrily at her brothers, her voice sharp and full of irritation.

(Are you both crazy? Don’t you feel ashamed talking like this about our brother? And anyway, it will take time for him to die)

Inside the room, Zayran takes a deep breath. His jaw tightens slightly but his face remains calm. He doesn’t open the door. Instead, he turns around and starts wiping his wet hair with the towel, slowly and silently.

After drying his head, he picks up his phone from the side table and walks back towards the door.

He opens it.

Outside, all three of them are standing close together, discussing something seriously again. They stop the moment the door opens.

“Bhai, where were you? We were so worried for you” Yuvan says quickly, relief flashing on his face. He steps forward and tries to hug Zayran.

But Zayran moves away without a word and starts walking downstairs. Yuvan loses his balance, stumbles forward and almost falls on the floor.

“Zinda hai hum” Zayran replies coldly while walking downstairs.

(I am alive)

A gasp comes from behind him. Zayran shakes his head slowly, clearly annoyed, watching his sibling and cousin being overly dramatic.

“Bhai, let’s go for dinner. We came to call you for this” Omkar says happily, instantly changing his mood. He starts walking along with the other two.

Zayran suddenly turns his head and looks at Omkar.

Omkar’s smile fades instantly. He freezes right there not daring to move even an inch.

“Hehehe, we are in the dining area, bhai” Ishita says to Omkar, smiling awkwardly as she notices how

irritated Zayran looks because of their talk.

“Sit, you all” the firm yet calm voice of their dadi, Gauri Kaalver, fills the dining area.

Everyone immediately walks towards their chairs and sits down in their respective places. The long dining table soon fills with people but the atmosphere remains heavy. Silence spreads across the table. Only the soft clinking sounds of plates, spoons and cutlery are heard.

“How was your day, Shaurya?” Virendra Kaalver, Zayran’s father, asks warmly.

Shaurya looks up from his plate and smiles a little, pride clearly visible on his face.

“It was really good, bade chachu. And I cracked that deal” Shaurya says confidently.

Smiles appear on almost everyone’s faces, except Zayran’s. He remains quiet, his expression unreadable.

“I’m proud of you” Bhairav Kaalver says, his eyes shining with happiness for his grandson.

“Omkar, Yuvan, learn from Shaurya” Kavita says while looking at both of them.

Omkar and Yuvan lift their heads from their plates and nod slowly with small smiles not saying anything else.

“The commissioner called me a few minutes ago. He was telling me you killed someone again, Zayran” Dhanraj says. Worry is clearly visible in his eyes.

For a brief second, everyone at the table stops eating. Then, as if nothing happened, they slowly start eating again.

“Hmm” Zayran replies casually, playing with his fork. His eyes remain on the plate but his mind is far away, not at the table, not in the conversation, not with them at all.

“Zayran” Neelam says softly. Her voice finally pulls Zayran out of his thoughts. He slowly lifts his head and looks at his family sitting around the table.

“Don’t do killing and all on the road and in public. It ruins our image” his dadu says firmly.

Zayran looks at him for a moment and then lets out a slow sigh. “But I didn’t kill anyone” he says innocently, his voice calm and almost childlike.

“Then what about the man who died today?” his father asks seriously.

Zayran slides his plate a little forward, losing interest in the food. He looks straight at his father.

“I was exporting weapons and he tried to steal them from me” he says calmly. With that, he pushes his chair back and stands up.

“Zayran, wait. I have made kheer for you” Kavita says quickly. She stands up from her seat and walks towards him, holding a bowl of kheer in her hands.

Zayran takes the bowl from her hands gently. He gives her a very tiny smile, barely noticeable and then turns around. Without saying anything else, he starts walking towards his room.

“He is getting out of hand” Virendra says, rubbing his temple in stress as Zayran leaves completely from there.

“Wo kabhi kisi ke haath mein the hi nahi” Shaurya says casually.

(He was never in anyone’s control anyway)

All the youngsters burst out laughing at his words.

“Bas bas, masti mazaak karwa lo tum sab se” Pallavi says with a small smile, shaking her head lightly.

(Enough now, you all only know how to joke)

The atmosphere slowly becomes lighter. Everyone continues their dinner, talking among themselves, their voices mixing softly in the dining hall.

Zayran’s Room

“I want that land anyhow by tomorrow” Zayran says firmly while lying down on the bed. His voice is low but commanding. His head hurts badly because of everything that happened today, one thing after another without pause.

He listens to the person on the call for a few more seconds, his expression tired and blank. Then he cuts the call without another word.

He keeps staring at the ceiling above him. His eyes look empty, lost somewhere deep in thoughts. Without him even realizing it, a single tear slips out from his right eye and rolls down the side of his face. He doesn’t bother to wipe it away.

He turns to his side slowly. His eyes fall on a framed family picture kept near his bed. Everyone is smiling in it. A warm feeling passes through his chest, soft and unfamiliar, yet comforting.

Slowly… very slowly… his eyes start closing.

The room is completely silent. Not a single sound can be heard. His life, however, is totally opposite of this silence. He is not someone meant to think about peace. His life is like a tornado, loud, dangerous and never calm.

And tomorrow, a new problem is going to enter his life. But no one knows whether it will be a problem... Or the peace of his entire life.