The air, thick with unease, seemed to hang heavy in the halls. Every corner of the hotel, once an oasis of opulence, now felt like a place of suspicion.
Raghav Kapoor had always been the type to take control. His confident demeanor had always exuded authority, but tonight, that confidence faltered. After the murder of the receptionist, Priya, he had insisted on searching for the killer. His sense of justice burned within him. The desire to uncover the truth was undeniable. When Vikram Kumar had been unable to immediately act, Raghav took matters into his own hands.
He hurriedly ascended the staircase, the distant sounds of Vikram calling his name fading behind him. The terrace, where the chill of the early morning breeze brushed against his face, seemed the perfect place to uncover whatever secret had been buried within the walls of the hotel. Perhaps the killer had sought refuge there—he could not know, but his instincts told him this was where the answers might lie.
Vikram was a few steps behind him, trying to catch up, but Raghav's long strides and unwavering determination put him ahead. The wooden door to the terrace creaked open as Raghav pushed it with a forceful shove, stepping out into the dimly lit space. The city below sprawled endlessly, with the early morning light just beginning to cut through the night's shadow.
Raghav scanned the space cautiously. His eyes darted across every corner, and he took in the stillness around him. The night had left a chill, but the warmth of the sun's first light was slowly creeping across the horizon. It felt as though time had frozen in that moment. He moved forward, trying to discern any clue that might lead him closer to the killer.
Then, in the far corner, he saw him. The man in the long black coat—the one who had been spotted earlier, slipping into the hotel like a shadow. The man stood still, his back to Raghav. The black coat fluttered gently in the breeze, almost as if it had a life of its own.
Raghav's heart raced. This was it—the moment he had been waiting for. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through him as he approached slowly, each step calculated. He did not speak, but his presence must have been felt, for the figure in the black coat turned around sharply, revealing his face.
Raghav's breath caught in his throat. What he saw in the stranger's eyes was not fear or malice—but a sense of finality, as if this moment had been destined to happen. The person before him wasn't just any criminal. Raghav's mind raced as the realization hit him, and the shock that followed left him momentarily speechless.
Before he could react, before he could even think of what to say, the man lunged forward. The sharp blade gleamed under the soft light of the terrace, and Raghav barely had time to move. His body instinctively tried to evade the strike, but the sharp edge found its mark. The pain was excruciating, overwhelming. It was like the world had slowed down. He tried to shout, to move, but the blood drained from his body faster than he could react.
Vikram, just reaching the door to the terrace, was too late. The figure was gone before he could see anything clearly. Raghav's body crumpled to the floor, and as he stumbled forward, the blood pumping out from his wounds, Raghav's last breath escaped him. He was gone.
Vikram stood frozen in disbelief, his mind unable to process the scene in front of him. His best friend, the man who had been determined to find the killer, was now lying lifeless at his feet. Vikram's heart pounded as he fell to his knees beside Raghav's body, the realization of what had just transpired hitting him like a tidal wave. He shook Raghav, desperately trying to wake him, but it was futile. The life had drained from him, and nothing could bring it back.
The silence that followed was deafening. It felt like the world had paused. Vikram couldn't move. He could only stare at the lifeless form of his friend, now a victim of the same darkness that had claimed Priya.
His phone rang, pulling him out of his stupor. It was Adi. His voice, urgent and steady, pierced through the fog of disbelief. "Vikram, what's happening? What did you find?"
Vikram couldn't bring himself to speak, his voice caught in his throat. He glanced around, the terrace empty, save for the bloodied body of Raghav. "Adi," Vikram finally choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's too late. He's dead. Raghav... he's gone."
A moment of silence passed on the other end before Adi spoke again. "Stay right there. Don't touch anything. We're coming to you now."
Vikram stumbled to his feet, his legs weak, his mind reeling from the chaos that had unfolded. He barely registered the sound of footsteps behind him. Adi and Soham had arrived, rushing onto the terrace, their expressions grim.
Soham was the first to speak. "What happened here, Vikram? What the hell is going on?"
Vikram could only point to Raghav's body. "He... he tried to find the killer. But he was too late."
Adi's gaze hardened as he looked around the terrace. He knelt beside Raghav's body, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. "The killer's still here," he muttered to himself. "He's among us."
Vikram's gaze flickered toward Adi, his face pale and exhausted. "What do you mean?"
Adi stood up slowly, his expression more serious than Vikram had ever seen. "The person who did this is still in the hotel. We need to find out who."
Soham's brow furrowed in confusion. "But how are we supposed to do that? We don't even know who the killer is!"
Adi looked at him with an intensity that silenced any further questions. "We have to start somewhere. Let's go back to the lobby and gather everyone. The killer is one of the people we've met tonight. One of them is hiding something."
The group made their way back to the lobby, where the other guests had started to gather after hearing the news. There was a palpable tension in the air now, as each person seemed to regard the others with suspicion. Adi scanned the room, noting the uneasy faces and the shifting glances. He knew that the answers were hidden somewhere in this room.
He turned to Arvind Kumar, the hotel owner, whose normally composed demeanor had faltered. "Mr. Kumar," Adi began, his voice sharp and focused, "who holds the keys to the terrace? We need to know who had access to it."
Arvind looked around, seemingly caught off guard by the question. "The keys? Only the hotel staff and a few select guests have them. Let me think."
He paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. "The terrace keys are with two of my crew members. One is Aryan, the head of security, and the other is Priya, the receptionist—who, as you know, is... dead." Arvind's face darkened at the mention of Priya's name. "Aside from that, we had five special guests tonight, including you three. That includes me, my son Vikram, Raghav Kapoor, Priya Mehra, and Arjun Singh."
Adi nodded, taking mental notes of the names. "Where's Aryan now?"
Arvind hesitated before responding. "He should be in his office. I'll take you to him."
The group walked toward Aryan's office, the weight of their footsteps adding to the thick tension in the air. As they reached the door, Adi knocked firmly, and after a few moments, it swung open.
Inside, Aryan lay slumped over his desk, his head tilted awkwardly to one side. Blood soaked his shirt, and his eyes were wide open, frozen in a look of shock. He had been killed in the same manner as Priya and Raghav.
Adi took a deep breath, his mind working furiously. He turned to Vikram and Arvind, his voice calm but resolute. "The killer is among us. Someone in this hotel is responsible for these murders. And we need to figure out who before they strike again."
To be continued