Chapter 4 - The damage is done.

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"...And really. I think I like who I am becoming." - Unknown.

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Unknown POV

"Mr Singhania, I have taken a look into this case. It seems rather twisted to me. It can't be an accident." I replied to Varun Singhania, a lawyer and an acquaintance of mine.

I received a call from him a few weeks back. He wanted my help regarding a rather twisted case of his family friends, who were killed in a fire. But according to him, it wasn't a mere accident.

"Not only that, but also the fact that out of the five bodies that were found at the place, two bodies didn't belong to any of the family members. The girl's body was little hefty and the baby's body looked a bit older. When in fact, Misha is thin and Vivaan is just one year old." He explained. I could hear the strain in his voice as he spoke. It seems he was very close to the family who were killed or rather, murdered.

"If you have that doubt, I suggest you to not speak about it. If this is indeed a plotted murder, and if the girl and the baby are alive, then they are very prone to danger. This case isn't easy as it seems. The fact that, it's all over the news doesn't help us. So do not speak about this to anyone." I said firmly. He seemed a bit emotional at the moment and people tend to make mistakes at such moments.

I was afraid he would spill about the possibility of the kids being alive in front of the media. Media wasn't journalism anymore, it was a puppet show. The stations gobbled up the worst of the worst, the more violent the better, anything for the ratings. Ratings meant money, lots of it. Perhaps it really was just a matter of time before they were funding the barbarism for the consumption of the people. They had no "off-switch," only the most immoral were the victors in the industry and so it went on. Morality was for losers, winners were the ones who "pushed the envelope."

"Thank you Mr Wilson for coming here at such a short notice. I hope you find the kids." He expressed his gratitude.

"Mr Singhania...don't be disappointed if the kids are dead. We don't know for sure if they are alive." I told him as he sighed.

"I know." He said and hung up.

I shook my head as I removed the Bluetooth from my ear and kept it on the passenger seat.

I took a turn on a vacant road thinking about all the possibilities of this case.

Too engrossed into the thoughts, I pulled the hand breaks when I heard a loud, terrified scream.

The scream tore through me like a great shard of glass. It came again, desperate, terrified... human. It was the kind of scream that made your blood run cold. It pierced the brain and ignited some primeval pathway.

Boy, what a scream that was. It made the hair strand straight up on the back of my neck. It was the loudest most piercing scream I have ever heard. It sounded like a scream of wild panic. A scream of hysteria and disbelief, bordering on terror. It was the kind of scream that puts every other thought on hold and roots everyone close in the very same agony.

Then came the sound of a gunshot.
The gunshot cracked into the air as loud as thunder but without the raw power of a storm. In comparison they were tiny and small, coming from one direction only. Even if they could have been mistaken for the cracks of an oncoming squall, there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

I sat in my car and looked in the direction of the scream and gunshot. There stood a very old cottage. My profession didn't allow me to ignore what just happened so I waited for the right time to go and investigate. Calculating all the possible threats and dangers, I stepped out of my car, keeping an eye on the cottage, to see any possible movements.

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