Chapter 32: The Cult’s Existence

The next morning, Aryan, Karan, Riya, and Naina sat in a cold, sterile conference room inside the police headquarters. The silence between them was heavy, each person lost in their own thoughts.

The events of the past week had been unrelenting. The supposed killer was dead, yet his last words still haunted Aryan. The discovery of the locket and the cryptic message from an unknown number confirmed their worst fear—this wasn't over.

A group was behind this.

A network of killers.

Naina tapped her fingers against the table, breaking the silence. "The forensics team analyzed the locket you found in the rubble."

Aryan leaned forward. "And?"

She slid a file across the table. Aryan opened it, his breath catching when he saw what was inside.

A symbol.

A perfectly carved sigil in the shape of a pendulum.

"This locket," Naina said, "is connected to an underground cult."

Karan frowned. "A cult?"

Naina nodded, her expression unreadable. "It's called 'The Pendulum of Death.'"

Riya shivered at the name. "What does that mean?"

Naina took a deep breath. "According to classified intelligence, this cult has been operating for decades, possibly centuries. They're tied to ritualistic murders, mass disappearances, and strange symbols found at crime scenes across the country."

Aryan flipped through the file, his stomach twisting as he saw images of mutilated bodies, blood-marked walls, and burnt ritual sites.

"This can't be real," Karan muttered, shaking his head.

"It's very real," Naina said. "And the worst part? They believe they're cleansing the world."

Aryan's jaw clenched. "Cleansing?"

Naina's gaze darkened. "They believe that every generation must make sacrifices to maintain a so-called 'balance between life and death.' They see themselves as 'Punishers of Good.'"

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Riya whispered, "This… this isn't just a serial killer. This is something much worse."

Naina nodded. "The man we killed was just one of many."

Karan sat back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "So… what? There's a whole network of psychos out there doing this?"

"Yes," Naina confirmed. "And now, they know we're in their way."

As if on cue, Naina's phone rang.

A chill ran through the room.

She glanced at the screen. Unknown Number.

Karan stiffened. "It's them."

Naina put the call on speaker. "IPS Naina Rathore."

A voice came through—distorted, deep, and emotionless.

"You stopped one."

Aryan felt a cold dread settle in his bones.

The voice continued.

"But you cannot stop what has already begun."

A slow, eerie chuckle followed.

"The Abyss is always watching. And soon… it will consume you all."

The line went dead.

Riya covered her mouth, her breath shaky. Karan cursed under his breath. Aryan sat still, his mind racing.

"They're mocking us," he said finally.

Naina exhaled sharply, putting her phone down. "No. They're warning us."

Determined to learn more, the group spent the next several hours going through classified police files, trying to piece together the cult's history.

Aryan read aloud from a report. "Multiple cases spanning over thirty years. Same pattern—people vanish, then their bodies resurface months later, burned and mutilated."

Karan scrolled through old crime scene photos. "This one's from six years ago. A family of four went missing… and when they were found, their bodies had been arranged in a circle."

Naina nodded. "That's part of their ritualistic pattern. The 'cleansing' always follows a cycle."

Aryan frowned. "A cycle?"

Naina pointed at the files. "The murders aren't random. They follow a specific timeline. Every few years, there's a surge of killings before the cult goes completely silent again."

Karan exhaled. "And now… the cycle is starting again."

A sinking realization settled over them.

This wasn't a new threat.

This was something ancient, something deeply rooted in the shadows of history.

And they had just scratched the surface.

A knock on the door startled them. A forensic officer stepped in, holding a sealed evidence bag.

"We found something else," he said, handing it to Naina.

Inside the bag was a scrap of fabric, burned at the edges.

On it was a symbol.

Not just any symbol—the same sigil found on the locket.

Aryan felt his blood run cold. "This was at the warehouse?"

The officer nodded. "It was stitched into the killer's clothing."

Karan gritted his teeth. "That proves it. He wasn't working alone."

Naina's grip on the bag tightened. "And now, we have proof that the cult is active. Right now."

A new fear took root in Aryan's mind.

If they had followed a cycle for decades…

Then what was the next step?

And more importantly—who was next?

Elsewhere…

A ritual chamber, deep underground.

A circle of hooded figures stood around a stone altar. Their voices whispered in unison, their hands raised toward the darkness above.

A single figure stepped forward, his face hidden beneath a metallic mask.

He spoke—his voice calm and commanding.

"The false one is dead."

The hooded figures bowed their heads.

"But the cycle remains. The next sacrifice has already been chosen."

He turned to a small wooden table.

On it lay a photo.

A woman's face.

The next victim.

The masked figure lifted the photo. A cruel smile formed beneath his mask.

"She will wear the pendulum next."

The camera zoomed in on the picture.

It was Naina.