I was wrong about my earlier hypotheses.
Despite the coincidence of three individuals being depicted in the paintings, there is no connection to the missing person's case we are investigating.
Only one person has been reported missing so far.
However, those two paintings still seem to match the situation. I need to find it, what is wrong here?
As I stand before this old, yet well-maintained house, I can't help but wonder about the three people who lived here. It's quite a sizable place for just three individuals.
Looking around, I notice the intricate details of the architecture, the chipping paint on the shutters, and the faint smell of freshly cut grass.
It's a peaceful scene, but my mind is restless with questions.
"Tak...Tak...Tak..." I knock on the door three times
As it finally opens, I am greeted by a dim light and a young man who appears to be the missing woman's son.
"I am Officer Arun,"
"What do you want?" the young man asked, his eyes wary.
My voice is steady despite my nerves. "I am here to talk about your mother."
"I understand, you have already given a statement to the department, but I am here to discuss your mother specifically," I replied, my tone calm and measured. "It may provide us with a broader understanding of the situation, and help us to investigate every aspect of it."
The young man hesitates but eventually allows me to enter the house.
As I step inside, I can't help but take note of its size - it seems far too spacious for just three people to live in.
I settle into a chair, and this guy begins to recount the events surrounding his mother's disappearance.
He speaks of her routine, habits, and relationships, providing me with a wealth of information that I know will be invaluable to our investigation.
But even as he speaks, my attention is drawn to something else entirely - a photograph that hangs on the wall behind him.
"May I take a closer look?" I asked Rohit. He nodded, and I step forward to examine the old photograph more closely.
It was an aged black and white photo, taken long ago.
The woman in the middle is unmistakably his mother, and on either side stand her two sons.
Despite the age of the photo and the slight blurring of the image, the woman's face is strikingly familiar.
I find myself drawn to the intensity of her gaze as if she is trying to communicate some secret message through the photo.
As I study the photograph more closely, I can't shake the feeling that there is something off about it - some subtle detail that isn't quite right. But what could it be?
"Where's your father, Rohit?"
"He died of lung cancer when I was five," Rohit replied.
"It must have been tough for your mother to raise two children on her own,"
"My mother always did her best and made sure we never felt my father's absence," he said with a hint of pride in his voice.
As I am speaking with him, my eyes drifted towards the woman.
The dim lighting obscures my view, so I approach the window for a better look.
But what I observe causes me to freeze in terror and my mind to go blank.
Oh my god!
As the voices in my head grew louder, I felt like I was being bombarded from all sides.
The photograph falls from my hand, clattering to the ground with a sharp sound. I couldn't take it anymore - the screams were too much to bear.
I sank to my knees, gasping for air as my head throbbed with pain.
It is only a matter of time before I am going to lose consciousness altogether.
But even in the midst of all this chaos, my eyes are still drawn back to the photograph.
It lay there on the ground, totally exposed to the harsh light, and my eyes gaze upon the woman in the image.
As I stare at the photograph in front of me, my eyes fix on the mark on the woman's forehead.
It was identical to the one I had seen in the painting - a strange, ominous symbol that seemed to hold some deeper meaning.
But as I look closer, I realize something that made my blood run cold.
The woman in the photograph is the same person as the one who had gone missing, but there was no mark on her forehead in the current image which is submitted by her son.
It is only present in the older image, from when she was much younger.
A shiver ran down my spine as I considers the implications of this discovery.
Had the woman's son lied to us about her disappearance? And if so, what is he hiding?
As I struggle to hold myself upright, my vision dizzy and indistinct, I reach out a trembling hand towards the figure standing before me.
"Hey man, "Help me here...I need some water."
But that guy is just standing there, a silent and unyielding statue, his eyes totally fix upon me with unblinking intensity.
It is as if he had lost his soul, his very essence, and all that remained was this empty shell of a person.
My frustration and fear grew with each passing moment, as I realized that he wasn't going to help me.
I feel a surge of anger, hot and righteous indignation at his callous disregard for my plight.
As I teeter on the brink of unconsciousness, my eyes slowly begin to close, I notice a sudden shift in the man's gaze.
His eyes dart to the left, and for a moment I can feel a palpable sense of unease settling over the room.
The lights flicker dimly and I strain my eyes, trying to make out any details in the darkness.
Suddenly, a figure emerges from the shadows, slowly making his way towards me.
I can't see his face clearly, but I can sense his presence - a dark and brooding energy that suffuses the very air around us.
The lights flicker again, casting strange and unsettling shadows across the room.
I try to speak, to call out for help, but my throat is dry and my voice is barely a whisper.
The figure draws closer, and I can feel the weight of his gaze upon me, probing and searching for something deep within my soul.
I know then that I am in grave danger, that I have stumbled upon something far more sinister than I could have ever imagined.
After an unknown time...
As consciousness returns to me, my head spins and my vision fades to black.
I am totally disoriented and confused, uncertain of where I am.
Panic begins to set in. "Hello?" I call out, hoping for a response.
But the darkness remains unyielding.
I can feel my body, my hands, and my legs, but my eyes are useless.
And then, just as suddenly, the darkness is replaced by an intense, blinding white light that illuminates everything around me.
I find myself trapped in a confined space, possibly abducted. The only exit is a metal door that has been sealed shut.
"Open it"
"Rohit are you listening to me
"Open the fucking door"
"Police would arrive here at any moment"
"Surrender yourself and let it go"
"It's over"
I stand before the sealed metal door, shouting and yelling for Rohit to surrender himself.
It is now confirmed that her own son has kidnapped his mother, and I am afraid of what else he could be capable of.
He knows me too well; he knows I will come here searching for the painting, and he is always one step ahead of me. But I can't let him win. I have to stop him and send him to jail forever.
I wonder what his motives are for all of this. Why did he kidnap his own mother, and what did he want from me? I had no idea, but I will find out no matter what.
Rohit is committing crimes on his own for far too long, but he has finally made a mistake.
It's just a matter of time before Amit, my friend and partner, comes looking for me if I don't return. I have already told him about my plans to come here, and he knows where to find me.
But right now, I'm stuck in this room with no way out. Rohit has taken my phone and my wallet, leaving me with no means of communication or escape.
"Who are you?"
A sharp and sinister sound, mixed with agony and torment, emanates from my back, leaving me utterly shattered and bewildered.
I can't fathom the thought that there is another person in this room with me, and the realization sends shivers down my spine.