The Shadows - XTales (Crime, Suspense, Series, 20-40 mins., Creepypasta)

A mysterious killer has terrified the criminals of Crime-City. Dead bodies are dropping every night. It will be the worst time to visit, and a girl does precisely that.
Reading time: 29 minutes.

Now, also available on Wattpad and Pratilipi.

SENSITIVE CONTENT WARNING!

Chapter One 
Crime-City

The night was quiet, and the wind tiptoed around the pier where a dozen men were busy unloading unmarked packages from a boat into a van. The name on the board was as old as the city itself, Crime-City. They called it so because no one remembered the actual name, not even the descendants of the founders.

The men did their jobs well without stopping for a second even to chat. They worked in complete silence as if they didn't want to bother the sleeping city, not that they cared. It was night, and the night in Crime-City belonged to the criminals. They weren't worried about the police. Why would they be? The city had a system.

What they should have been worried about was a hooded figure. It stood atop the roof of the nearby warehouse, watching them. A swift pass of the wind flew across the pier, and in as little time as it would take to blink, the mysterious figure disappeared—only to appear again at the front of the van.

The men didn't notice him because of the dingy street bulbs. The pier looked like a battlefield of the never-ending struggle between the light and the dark. The dim yellow light of the bulbs made it easier for criminals to do their jobs. They were never worried about anything—until now.

"HEY! WHO'S THERE?" barked one of them. The man had seen a moving shadow. But before he could see what it was, it disappeared again. The man scanned the area. He found nothing concerning, so he shrugged his shoulders and turned.

"AGH!" He began to shout or cry but couldn't do it because of a tiny, sharp object jammed in his throat. Blood spurted everywhere as the hooded figure pulled his short, sharp blade out of the man's throat, who succumbed to the ground, unheard.

Another man appeared behind the loading van and shouted, "Hey, douchebag! How much time do you need to take a piss? We are on a tight schedule here." Nobody answered, so he angrily paced towards the corner where the dead body was still gushing warm blood. He turned around the corner and laid his eyes on his dead mate. For a second, nothing happened. The man did not move until the hooded figure released his body and pulled the blade out of his back.

His body fell to the ground with a loud thud echoing through the pier. One might wonder why the mysterious figure, the master of stealth, made a rookie mistake when it could've taken them out one at a time. It was true, but it would take a long time, and the figure was also on a tight schedule.

Two of the rest followed the sound, and as they saw the dead bodies, they shouted curses and drew their guns out.

"WATCH OUT!" one of them bellowed. "We are not alone!"

A few more joined the two armed ones with their guns, and the rest increased their pace of work. Now, they began to load the packages as fast as they could.

All of them were alerted. Even a rat couldn't move without the men pointing their guns at it. If they saw as much as a glimpse of a cloth. If they heard it fluttering in the wind. If they caught even a rustle of a shoe, they'd have shot their magazines empty. The figure stood still, holding its breath...right behind them.

And then, the figure tapped on a shoulder. The man quickly turned, aiming his gun, but the mysterious figure snatched it out of his hand, punched the man, and kicked him away. The rest of the fellows turned, and bullets rained from the barrels of their guns. The pier echoed with gunshots, but no bullet could even graze this master of stealth. It moved with the agility of an apex predator and killed them all. It all finished real soon, and the night went noiseless once again.





Crime-City; that's what everyone called her. Yes, the city was alive and breathing like a creature. Although she had a real name, nobody remembered it. The name was crucial because the founders were all criminals, drug lords, and people of the mafia. They wanted a place to camouflage their businesses. And the name was the first step.

A few decades ago, some of the most notorious crime families from different cities came together at this place. Back then, it was just a small town and a pier. There was no trace of any human habitat up to three hundred miles in any direction, and the fourth one was the sea. The families set up their homes and fake businesses. The other drugs and weapons dealers caught the waft of a new city where they didn't have to worry about law enforcement agencies. Soon, everybody was migrating to this newly established city. Some realtors saw this as an opportunity to hide or convert their corrupt money. Socially exiled people, ex-convicts, small-time thieves and con men found this new city a paradise. Everybody was a criminal here. Crime-City was thriving so well that some other innocent businessmen found this a great investment opportunity. They set up their businesses, manufacturing plants, and call centres. Some small-scale businesses were attracted to this great opportunity, too. These were the people who gave the city her name; Crime-City. Within no time, the actual name was forgotten because everyone who came here became a criminal, too. By the time the government or law enforcement agencies knew anything, Crime-City had become a place like none other.

Life in Crime-City was not like one in any other. The city had some good and some bad things. One could live the life of one's dreams. The best thing about Crime-City was that there were absolutely zero crimes in the daytime, which meant that the night belonged to the criminals. The government tried to implement a system, a judiciary, and a police department, but it was too late. Half of each department was corrupt anyway, and the rest was bought off. Whoever left was killed. Since there were no crimes during the day, the police had nothing to do. The nights, which were supposed to be spent patrolling the city, were instead spent resting, drinking, and partying. The criminals did their business meetings, dealings, and killings freely. The city existed as two different places during the day and night.

One could still easily manage one's life in Crime-City. Just do your job, finish everything, and be home before sunset. One couldn't have too many friends. No one could tell the criminals and the innocents apart. One day, you're having tea with your neighbour. The following day, they're either dead or missing. Despite all this, the Crime-City was popular amongst outsiders. Everybody wanted to spend a day in Crime-City and leave before sunset. Some were even crazier to want to spend the night as well. They wanted to witness the very soul of Crime-City with their own eyes and be a part of it. Anything that could happen had already happened in Crime-City. Nobody thought that something crazier could ever happen, but—it did.





"Here we have the footage of the killer. We can't see their face, but we can see why we couldn't get it earlier." The Friday morning news anchor announced on the television, "Look how fast the killer is. Our reporter barely caught it on tape, but somehow, we got a full shot."

It started with dead bodies appearing around the city. One uneventful morning, a dozen bodies were found on the pier. They all sustained knife or bullet wounds fired from their own guns. The police, for the first time, had something to do in the daytime. The whole department was on alert, and so was the crime world. Criminals of Crime-City had one rule – 'Get rid of the bodies before sunrise'. The police had no idea what happened that night, but two gangs of Crime-City did. It was supposed to be a drug deal. The men who were found dead belonged to the two gangs. It wasn't a disagreement because all of the men involved were dead. It was clear that the killer was not from Crime-City. He was an outsider and didn't belong to any crime families because he didn't care about the one rule. Police couldn't get anywhere. They couldn't even link the deaths to the drugs because no trace of either drugs or money was found on the crime scene. There were no witnesses. This was certain to be a cold case, but a few more bodies were found the following morning, this time in a warehouse. This shook the whole city, even civilians. The criminals of the Crime City knew someone was onto them. They were being hunted. They put all the corrupt officers who they had working for them on the case. The police officials working on it had more pressure from the crime families than their superiors. A few reporters stepped out at night from the safety of their houses to find this mysterious murderer. It wasn't until the third night that the culprit was seen.

On that night, two patrol officers heard gunshots. They followed the sound and came upon what they thought, at first, was a drug deal gone wrong, but then they saw the mysterious hooded figure. It was draped in black clothes, which hid him in the dark. He was moving around, jumping up and about with the speed of a Ninja, killing everyone with a weapon so small that no one could see. If anyone tried to shoot this mysterious figure, it simply didn't work. It was so fast that it snatched the gun out of one's hand and shot him and the rest dead. The police officers shouted at this silhouette, but it ran away and disappeared into the night. This time, though, he left the drugs and the money. The police department still couldn't link the killings to the drugs because the two officers cleaned up the crime scene and were paid heavily for the information. Now, the whole Crime-City was looking for this hooded person.

The news anchor was back. It looked like she was just told to change the news, but she kept speaking. Now, the channel started showing the footage of the hooded figure on a loop. The reporter said, "But who is this? Why is the killer doing all this? Is this hooded person just here to clean the Crime-City of crimes? Or is there something else?"

The news anchor kept speaking about the mysterious figure, but Preeti had no care. She was busy taking pictures and posting them on Instagram, announcing her arrival in Crime-City. The hashtag CrimeCity was quite popular. She was excited to spend the weekend in the city. Sneha, her cousin, on the other hand, was very concerned. She was giving Preeti instructions, but Preeti was busy on Instagram.

"Are you even listening?" Sneha asked furiously.

"Yes, I am," Preeti replied without looking at Sneha.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get off from work today."

"That's fine. I can manage. No crimes in the daytime."

"But still, take care. Be back before sunset," Sneha said with concern. "And please keep your phone switched on."

"I didn't turn it off," Preeti replied, rolling her eyes and looking at Sneha. "It ran out of juice."

"Then maybe don't keep browsing Instagram all the time." Sneha looked at her wristwatch. "I'm getting late for work. You take care. Okay? We'll go out tomorrow." She picked up her handbag and started looking for her phone.

"I'd probably have seen everything by then," replied Preeti. "The only thing left would be meeting your boyfriend. Which reminds me–" She looked up from the smartphone and asked, "When am I gonna meet him?"

"I'm meeting him today after work. I'll ask him if we can have lunch together tomorrow. Where is my phone? What are you doing with my phone?" Sneha asked Preeti, who had been using Sneha's phone for the last half an hour.

"Mine is charging. You said to keep it switched on." She handed over her phone back and took her own out of charging.

"Okay, I'm leaving. Remember–" Sneha said, pointing her finger at Preeti, raising her eyebrows, "–back before sunset!" Then, she left.

Soon after, Preeti got bored, too. She turned off the television, still showing the hooded figure on the news channel. She took the keys and left, excited to explore Crime-City.





Sneha had been living in the city for a few years. She was a serious and mature girl. Maybe, Crime-City had toughened her. She always wore a pantsuit and rarely smiled at anyone.

As soon as Sneha entered the office, she was called upon in the manager's cabin. The manager had been absent from work for the past week without any notice or news. Sneha entered the room and saw her 'big boss', the CEO, waiting for her.

"Ah, good morning, Sneha; good to see you," he said, jumping from his seat.

"Boss, what are—what are you doing here?" Sneha shook his hand while asking.

"As you know," the boss switched to a grim tone. "Mr Lobo has been missing for a few days. It's unlikely he would return to his position if he's ever found again."

Sneha knew what it was like in the city. Anyone could go missing at any time. People just developed a habit of moving on rather quickly.

"Yes," the CEO went on. "The search will continue, and the police and his family will keep looking. Meanwhile, we have a company to run.

Sneha hoped it was coming any day, but she couldn't seem too excited. People in the city were also very cautious about others. Nobody could be trusted; anybody could be working for the mafia. Her happiness could indicate her involvement in the disappearance of her manager.

"So, effective immediately, you are promoted to the manager of this office." The boss shook her hand once again. "Congratulations, and brace yourself for the hard work coming your way."

The CEO left quickly after that, and Sneha dialled her boyfriend Roy's number to let him know she'd be working late. Nobody answered, so Sneha changed her mind to tell the news of her promotion in person and cut short their date to finish her work.

The day went by quickly. When it was about to be dark in a couple of hours, Sneha left the office for her date. She arrived at the restaurant and waited for half an hour, but Roy didn't turn up. Sneha called him again and again, but no one picked up. It was getting late, so she headed back to her office. She dialled Preeti on her way back to inform her about the new developments, but her phone was switched off.

Unbeknownst to Sneha, Preeti was in a whole other mess and grave danger.





Preeti, opposite Sneha, was never seen without a smile or more like a mischievous grin on her face. She was a butterfly, an exuberant, and more like a 'sundresses and skirts' kind of a girl, always smiling and imparting positive energy. She had wanted to see Crime-City for a long time, and finally, she was out there.

Preeti had visited every place she could in a day and clicked thousands of pictures. When the sun approached the horizon, she started towards home. Preeti was walking on the sidewalk with her head buried in her smartphone. Henceforth, she missed the turn to Sneha's apartment. She didn't notice it until her phone gave a 'low-battery' warning and switched off. Then, Preeti looked up and realised her mistake. She turned and started to walk back, but the problem was that every street and turn seemed very similar to her. She was trying to recognise the way when she saw the sky growing darker every slipping minute.

Preeti must've taken a wrong turn because as she turned, she saw a loading truck parked in front of what looked like a garage and a few men unloading unmarked boxes. She gasped and stopped. The men noticed her, so they stopped, too. One of them pulled out a gun and shouted.

"HEY! WHO ARE YOU?"

Preeti didn't think. Everything she did was impulsive. She screamed, turned, and ran as fast as she could. The men chased her. She had no idea where she was running to, but she couldn't have gone far because one of the men circled and cut her off. Preeti bumped into him and fell to the ground. She started crying. The rest of the men caught up to her but stopped a few feet away. They looked alert and hesitant to come forward. Preeti looked at them, and she couldn't understand the reaction. She looked up at the figure she had bumped into.

He wasn't one of them.

Chapter Two
Tangled Threads

The hooded figure looked exactly like in the news footage. Preeti was even more scared than before. If she was going to die, she would have preferred a gunshot over being brutally massacred by an assassin. The men were not that scared because they were in numbers. They started blasting their guns at the intruder, but he was insanely fast for them. He backflipped over Preeti, who curled up like a kitten on the road. She was watching him as he approached the men, started throwing his arms around, and the men began to drop one by one, bleeding.

Preeti couldn't even see any weapon until a knife glimmered in the street light. She heard gunshots, screams, and groans of the men, the knives swishing, the blood gushing from bodies, and her own heart jumping out of her chest. She covered her ears and hid her face in the ground. The men tried everything—shooting, punching, kicking, lunging at him, grappling, but he dodged almost every punch and kick, pushed away everyone who lunged, freed himself from every hold, and killed them. One of the last two men desperately tried to shoot him down, but he snatched the gun out of his hand and shot him and the other one dead.

The chaos turned into silence just as quick as it had begun. For a second, there were no sounds, not even the wind. Preeti thought that she would hear another swish of the knife and would feel it pushing inside her body. Any moment now, but when none of what she expected happened, she slowly looked up.

It was a horrible sight. Dead bodies were scattered everywhere. The road had been painted red with blood, and there the man was, standing amongst the bodies with the knives still dripping blood. The hood covering his head was pulled back during the fight, and Preeti saw his face.

The man still looked very angry with his clenched jaw and fiery eyes. He was looking down before he jerked his head and looked at the tiny, curled-up ball. Preeti's heart jumped, but the assassin's expression changed. Now, he looked curious, and his eyes looked caring. He put his knives away.

"Are you okay?" The man asked in a tone that Preeti could not have expected. He had a kind but heavy voice. He walked up to a curled-up Preeti and offered his hand. "Come on, get up."

Preeti couldn't think of what to do, so she took his hand and stood up. She was still frightened and couldn't look the assassin in the eye.

The man sensed that because he said, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you."

And then, Preeti dared to look at him. Most of his face was covered in an obviously fake-looking, thick beard, but he still appeared too young.

"You alright?" he asked again.

This time, Preeti nodded.

"What are you doing out here after sunset? Are you lost?"

Preeti nodded again.

"Where do you live?"

Preeti gathered enough strength to stutter.

"Fou—forty—two—forty-two A, thir—third street."

"That's just a few blocks away from here. Come on, I'll walk you there." The young man stepped towards Third Street, and Preeti followed.





The following morning, Preeti woke up to a violent shaking and Sneha's loud voice calling out her name. She sat up on the bed, rubbing her eyes.

"Are you just coming in?" a half-asleep Preeti asked Sneha.

"Yeah," Sneha replied. She wore the same pantsuit as the day before and looked like she had not slept the previous night. "Didn't you get the text?"

"Yeah, I got your text. And voicemails." Preeti waved her smartphone.

Last night, when Preeti had come back, Sneha wasn't home. At first, Preeti was worried before she charged her phone and switched it on. Then came a back-to-back chain of voicemails and text messages from Sneha. The last one announced that she had gotten late and would stay at the office for the night. That's when Preeti felt relieved. She texted back, reaffirming her safety and went to bed.

"I told you to keep your phone switched on. Did you get back home on time?"

Preeti was taken aback, but she managed to lie. "Huh? Yeah. Yeah. I got in before the dark."

Sneha squinted her eyes. She was not convinced. "Then why did you reply so late?"

"Because that's when I switched on my phone."

"You spent more than an hour without your phone?"

"Yeah. I was so tired I went straight to bed, and then I got up to—"

"Preeti," Sneha interrupted. "You know you cannot lie."

Preeti gave up. "Oh, you're right. I can't. I was out after sunset, but not on purpose. I was lost. I'm sorry."

"That's what I was afraid of. That's why I told you to—" Sneha was both mad and worried. "But you never listen to me."

"I'm sorry." Preeti looked down and guilty for a second before she burst into cheer. "But you know what? I met him."

"Who?"

"Him. The assassin."

"Yeah, right," Sneha rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious. I met the man."

Preeti narrated the entire incident without pausing for breath. Sneha didn't pay much attention because she received a text message.

"Okay, listen," said Sneha. "I've gotta go meet Roy. You stay here. Okay?"

"Roy! Is that his name? Cool. Wait, didn't you meet him yesterday?"

"No. I waited after work, but the guy didn't show up. Then, I went back to the office to finish my work. I got promoted to the branch manager.

"What? That's great! Congratulations! We have to celebrate."

"No, we can't."

"Wait, why not?"

"Because I only got promoted because my manager went missing. This is Crime-City. If you celebrate a thing like that, people think you're the one who did it."

"Oh, boy," Preeti said with pity. "What is the point of a life like this?"

"The point, sister—" Sneha picked up her bag and walked to the door. "—is money." She closed the door behind her but not before growling, "STAY HOME!"





Sneha had been dating Roy for a few weeks now. That was brave of her because people living in Crime-City didn't just start dating. But then, sometimes, they did and either went missing or ended up dead.

Sneha met Roy in a restaurant. On the first day, he held the door open for her, and that's how it began. They crossed paths with each other almost regularly. Sometimes, they would only nod at each other. Sometimes, they would smile. It wasn't until after a month that they finally started talking. At first, it was just small talk, then they began sharing, and one day, Roy asked Sneha out. It was working pretty well. They liked each other. Although there weren't too many dates because they were busy with their work, they tried their best.

Sneha arrived at the restaurant. She sat at a table, ordered coffee, and waited. There was a television behind the counter, so she started watching the news that was on. Obvious enough, it was about the assassin's latest strike on the mafia. Sneha had got annoyed by that hooded man, and it must've been visible on her face.

"What's the matter with you?" asked a young, handsome man. He sat on a chair, smiling. One of his eyes had a black circle around it.

"Oh, you've got some nerve, mister," said Sneha. "Coming here after you stood me up—" but then she noticed his black eye, "What happened to your eye? Did your coach punch you in the face?"

"Yeah, I missed," said Roy. "That's why he held me for some more practice, and that's why I couldn't come."

"Well, because of you and your coach, I had to stay at the office."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, it's alright. I had a lot of work pending anyway."

"See, it was good then that I—"

Sneha stared at Roy, so he surrendered, raising his palm and shutting up.

"I had lunch plans with my cousin and you. What are you doing tomorrow?

"Nothing. I'm free."

"Great then, Preeti and I will meet you here at about...um...eleven?"

"You and who again?"

"My cousin. She is here for the weekend. She wants to meet you, remember?"

"Whic—which one is her again?" Roy asked curiously.

"Oh no, you haven't seen her. I didn't have any pictures of her—wait, I do now. She took a lot of pictures on my phone." Sneha chuckled and took out her smartphone, opened a picture, and showed it to Roy.

"Oh, she—she's pretty."

"So, eleven it is." Sneha declared.

"Anything you say, your highness."

"Okay. Now, I've gotta go, shower, sleep. I'll see you tomorrow." Sneha began to leave.

"Wait, is that it? I just arrived here."

"I'm sorry. I'm exhausted." Sneha leaned in and kissed Roy.

"But I'm hungry," Roy pleaded.

"Eat away. You need those calories."





Preeti was still home when Sneha came back. She didn't go anywhere. The daytime Crime-City didn't attract her anymore. It was the other city that only existed when the sun went down that called her. Full of danger and rigged with life-threatening situations, a buffet of near-death experiences. Preeti waited while Sneha took a shower and went to bed. She waited all noon. Finally, when the sun approached the horizon. When everyone else returned to their houses. Well, except for the criminals, then Preeti stepped out.

Preeti went to the place where the events of last night had taken place. The perimeter was closed with yellow tape. Bodies were removed, but the blood was yet to be cleaned. She just stood there watching the scene, re-living the events. There was no one else around. Criminals wouldn't dare to use the same place again, and police—well, they were never at the place where they should've been.

Preeti leaned back on the wall, chewing her nails, looking around, waiting. It probably was the first time she wasn't on her smartphone when it wasn't charging. She waited for a long time. The night had turned darker than ever. She didn't know what exactly would happen or what to expect. She just stood there. That's when Preeti realised that Crime-City was more beautiful at night. It was a shame that nobody saw that, no civilians at least.

Preeti waited for hours, but nobody showed up. She thought maybe she was expecting too much. That was the moment when the wind brought a shadow with it.

The biggest ever smile appeared on Preeti's face. Her eyes had just caught the silhouette on the other side of the street. The man came out in the light. He was wearing the same clothes. His face was hidden this time. Both started at each other and then the man turned and walked away.

Preeti's smile vanished. She quickly followed the shadowy figure. "Wait!" she shouted.

The figure kept a reasonable distance. No matter how fast Preeti followed, she lagged behind him. The mysterious man steered through a maze of dark, dreadful streets with remarkable precision. Preeti was so focused on following him that she didn't notice where she was going. The near-death experience had warped her sense of reality.

Finally, the man entered what looked like an abandoned warehouse. Preeti followed him without even thinking. A loud, worried gasp left her lips when six giant, bulky men stared back at her. The man she had followed revealed his face. It became evident that Preeti had fallen into a trap.

"Oh, no!"

"Oh, yes," one of the men said, grinning at Preeti. "A little birdy told us that you have seen him."

"Yes," said Preeti, trying to hide her fear, but it didn't work. "But I don't know where he is. Please, let me go."

"Sorry, can't do that. You have no idea what you've put your neck into. Now, you're a part of this. You'll help us get to the man."

One of the men charged at Preeti, who screamed and ran towards the door. She pulled open the heavy gate, and there he was. Preeti knew who it was for sure this time. She jolted with relief as she pulled the gate wide open. The hooded man walked inside, and Preeti closed the gate behind him.

A series of different noises came from the other side of the door. Each second, the gruff grunts went quieter and quieter. And then—dead silence.

The gate swung open, and the assassin stepped out covered in blood. Preeti gasped with shock.

"Not mine," the man said.

"Who are you?"

The young man ignored the question and asked, "What are you doing here? You can't be lost again!"

"I am not lost. Or maybe I am. I don't know."

"Come on, I'll walk you home. I have other places to be."

"Are you not done for the night?"

"I haven't even begun. And it's none of your concern."

"Why do you do this?"

The man with the fake beard hung his head in disappointment. He didn't want to answer questions while standing on a lonely street in Crime-City at night next to a warehouse full of dead bodies.

"I don't have time for this," the man said. "Just keep walking."

Preeti agreed and followed the assassin close behind. "What's your name?" she asked.

"I don't have one."

"I get why you wouldn't wanna tell me."

"How come are you so interested suddenly?"

There was silence for a few seconds, followed by Preeti's grim voice. "Something has happened to me," she whispered, more to herself than the man. "The events of last night—they left an impact on me. I can never be the same."

The man said nothing. He focused more on the road than Preeti's words. There was nothing new for him. He had seen and done worse. After a minute, they arrived at the street to Sneha's apartment.

"There you are," the man said. "Third Street."

"You didn't answer me. Why do you do this?"

A cold pass of wind ruffled their hair. The quiet of the night made it feel like there was nothing else but those two under the street light.

"You should go home. The night in Crime-City belongs to—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. What is your name? Who are you?"

"Don't step out at night again. I won't be there to save you next time."

The man disappeared in the darkness while Preeti stood there, lost in her thoughts. A dog barked somewhere, and Preeti snapped to reality. She walked home and could not see that someone had been watching her from a dark corner.





After safely accompanying Preeti back home, our mysterious crusader arrived at the pier again. This time, some new henchmen were doing the same work, unloading unmarked boxes from the ship to a van. He started waiting for a perfect time to strike.

One of the henchmen pulled a body bag from the van and dropped it on the ground.

"What the hell is this?"

"The boss asked us to get rid of this."

"Who is this?" the henchman asked as he helped the other one push the body bag.

"Asking questions is not our job. From what I heard, the poor bastard used to be a manager or something. Must have pissed off someone he shouldn't have."

The two men threw the body on the boat and turned towards the van. Before they could understand what happened, they dropped dead. The assassin pulled his knives out of their throats and jumped the others.

The other henchmen were as clueless as newborn chickens. Some of them did try to fight back in vain. In a matter of minutes, the pier was covered with more dead bodies than before. And the night was still far from over.





The following day, Sneha and Preeti were at the restaurant, waiting for Roy. Preeti was not as excited to meet him as she was when she had arrived in the city. Now, it just seemed uninteresting and mundane to her. She was on her smartphone, and Sneha was talking to someone from her office on a phone call.

"—yeah—right—well, that's your job—I just need it done—sorry what—shadow? Whose shadow? I'm with my cousin. I'll talk to you later." Sneha looked at her watch and said to Preeti, "He's always late. You wanna start?"

"No, I'll wait. Hey, hand me your phone. I'll transfer my pictures."

"Sure. Here." Sneha handed her phone to Preeti and started watching the news on the television. Another piece on the assassin, multiple strikes in a single night. It appeared that he was speeding up his game. Then, out of nowhere, Preeti screamed on top of her lungs.

Everyone in the restaurant looked at her. Then, they assumed there must be a picture or a cute video of a dog or cat because she was looking at the phone. 'Girls!' They all shook their heads, but Sneha looked at her with a face full of anger.

"What?" Sneha asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

Preeti couldn't speak. Her eyes and mouth were wide open. She struggled for a second, then she showed her the phone. "How—how...how do you—know him?" She asked.

Sneha looked at the screen and then again at Preeti's shocked face. "That's Roy," she replied.

Preeti's eyes grew even more, and her mouth opened wide.

Sneha got more confused than angry. "What?" she asked again.

"He—he's—it's him—he's...the—he's the assassin!" Preeti finally let it out.

Before Sneha could respond or even grasp it, everyone at the restaurant exclaimed. Some of them pointed towards the television. Sneha and Preeti looked, too.

Large letters appeared on the screen. They read 'The Assassin in the daylight'. The screen showed several cars speeding on the highway. On the top of one of them was a hooded figure. The reporter's voice could be heard in the background.

"Breaking news! The infamous mafia killer has been seen during the day for the first time. It looks like he's chasing someone."

Chapter Three
The Shadows

Sneha looked at the television for a second before turning back to Preeti. "Are you serious?" she asked. "This is not a joke? You met him?"

"Yes!"

"Are you sure it's him, though?" Sneha asked, showing the picture on her smartphone.

"Yes," Preeti said. She looked at the pictures and then added. "I mean, without the beard, but it's him. I'm sure."

Sneha took a few seconds to register this new, shocking information. But Preeti—she couldn't hold her excitement. She started hopping on her toes. Oh my god! Your boyfriend is the assassin. I can not believe this."

Sneha couldn't think. She looked worried more than anything. Suddenly, the crowd watching the news made a noise. Sneha and Preeti looked at the screen. The assassin had jumped from the roof of one car onto the other.

The reporter went on, "Oh my god. It's the first time in the whole history of Crime-City. He's killing them one by one. The police are nowhere to be seen. It seems they were not ready to respond to a situation so quick. Our reporters are just behind them. We are giving you live feed."

The reporter kept going. Sneha and Preeti kept watching the news with everyone else. The whole Crime-City was watching Roy, who had just pushed his knife into the neck of the driver of the car he was on.





Roy grabbed the man by his collar, pulled him, and threw him out. Then, he slid in so brilliantly that he kicked the other one out without effort. After taking over the steering wheel, he stepped on the accelerator and chased the car ahead. Both vehicles were now side by side. Roy looked at a big, beefy man who looked back at him, pulled out his gun, and aimed at Roy.

Loud gunshots echoed through the streets, but they all missed their intended target. The big man tried reloading his gun but found it difficult to do while driving and impossible when a hooded man just jumped in his car through the window. Roy snatched the gun out of his hand. The man tried to fight back, but it was in vain. They both then heard the police siren wailing. It appeared that they had finally caught up to them. Roy and the man were both struggling and couldn't see the road. During this skirmish, they had driven off the highway and now were heading straight to the sea.

Sneha and Preeti were watching the news, holding their breaths. The reporters were far behind. Nobody could see now what was happening in the car. The reporters had to stop, but the car raced straight ahead, breaking the barrier and off the cliff into the sea.





The police and search team would look for them, but they wouldn't find anything except for the car. The assassin will always be remembered in Crime-City as a symbol of resistance to control and domination. That evening, when everyone was shaken to their core, discussing the recent events that had changed the history and the future of Crime-City, Preeti was about to take the last bus of the day, leaving Crime-City.

Sneha had come to see her off. They were not talking too much. They hadn't said anything after the incident. They just left the restaurant because they knew nobody would come. Preeti started packing as soon as they got home. Now, they were waiting by the bus, trying to find a way to say goodbye to each other. Even Preeti couldn't find any words.

"He was changing so much," Preeti finally said with a low, un-cheered voice. "He was bringing so much good in the city. And now everything will go back to how it was. Nobody would ever be saved in the dark of the night. I can't believe the city has lost him—you've lost him."

"Don't think about it." Sneha tried to console her. She was a tough woman. That's how she survived in that city.

The bus driver gave the signal. Preeti stepped on the bus and looked back at Sneha.

"See you soon," said Sneha, waving at her.

Preeti smiled at last. She waved back and mouthed, 'I'll miss you'. The bus started moving and cleared the slow traffic. Within seconds, it was away at the horizon before disappearing.

Sneha turned away to leave but was shocked to see one person she least expected to see.





"Hey!" said Roy, more bruised than ever, wearing the same clothes, frayed and wrinkled, torn up in places. He was still wearing the fake beard.

Sneha was shocked to see him alive. She gasped, jumped back and put a hand on her mouth to stop herself from screaming. "Wha—What?"

"I know. I'm—I'm sorry." He looked straight into her eyes and said, "I couldn't come for lunch. The coach kept me occupied." He then tried to smile.

Sneha frowned. "Is this supposed to be funny? I thought you were dead."

It became clear to Roy that it wasn't going to work. "I'm sorry," he said. "I believe I owe you some answers."

Sneha took the queue. "Who are you?"

"Well," he stopped to think, "my name IS Roy and um—" He was thinking if he should let the information out. Then, he decided. "—and I work for a secret organisation called 'The Shadows'.

Sneha was more worried than at the restaurant when Preeti had recognised Roy. Maybe this was how she responded to new shocking information.

"Wh—yo—h, so you are a—"

"Yeah, I'm a shadow. I was sent here to—well, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

Sneha looked at him for a second and thought about what troubled her the most. Then, she decided to let it out, but Roy perceived it before she could say anything.

"Yes, it was all real. It wasn't an act. I just bumped into you while gathering information about the mafia." Roy started speaking without breaks. "I saw you every day, and I just fell for you. You are so strong and beautiful. I just forgot for a second why I was here in the first place. It was all real."

Sneha finally smiled. Roy saw her smile for the first time and kept looking at her. Then, after a minute or two, they stopped smiling. Something must have occurred to them.

"So, what now?" Sneha asked. "Your work is done. Are you leaving?"

"No," Roy said in a grave tone. "I barely scratched the surface. It's just a start. But yeah, I have to leave—for now."

"You are?"

"I am. Sorry."

"But will you come back?"

"Yes," said Roy, smiling. "And not because I will have to. I'll come back—for you."

"Okay." Sneha smiled again. "I'll wait. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too."

They both stepped forward and kissed. The dusky, red sky stood witness. Roy then slowly took a few steps back, smiling before he turned and walked away. Sneha was looking at her, smiling for the longest time she had ever smiled. She kept looking at him until he disappeared into the approaching darkness, and then—her smile vanished.

Sneha's face transformed impossibly fast. Her eyebrows narrowed, and her jaw clenched. She started pacing in the opposite direction while she took out her smartphone and speed-dialled a number.

"You were talking about those shadows?" Sneha asked as soon as the call was answered.

The woman looked dangerous and determined. She summoned rage and vigilance in her eyes. The person on the line must have asked something because Sneha replied, "Well, I found one of them."

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