Chapter 33: The First Attack

The air inside the police station was thick with tension. The chilling phone call, the discovery of the cult's existence, and the confirmation that they were being watched had put everyone on edge.

Naina, Aryan, Karan, and Riya had spent the last few hours combing through police reports, but the more they read, the clearer it became—this was no ordinary enemy.

They weren't dealing with just one killer.

They were up against an entire organization.

And now, the cult knew who they were.

"We need to be ahead of them," Aryan muttered, pacing the room. "We know they won't stop. So instead of waiting for them to strike again, we should force their hand."

Naina nodded, already pulling out a map of the city. "Our best chance is to lure them out. The locket was burnt but intact, meaning the cult didn't plan for it to be left behind. It was a mistake. And if they know we have it, they'll try to erase that mistake."

Karan frowned. "How do we do that?"

"We make it public," Naina said. "I'll have my team leak false information—say we recovered DNA evidence from the locket. If they think we have a lead that could expose them, they'll come after it."

Aryan's eyes darkened. "And we'll be waiting."

Naina's plan was risky, but necessary. If the cult was as powerful as they suspected, then sitting and waiting for an attack was a death sentence.

Riya, who had been quiet the whole time, finally spoke. "Are we sure about this? What if they don't take the bait?"

Naina exhaled. "They will."

Because they had no choice.

That night, Aryan, Karan, and Naina positioned themselves outside the forensic lab, where the supposed "evidence" was being kept. Multiple officers were stationed inside, but Aryan knew that if the cult was as smart as they seemed, they wouldn't attack directly.

They'd send someone else.

Hours passed, the city lights flickering against the glass windows of their parked car. The air was cold, silent.

Then—

A figure appeared.

A man, hunched over, dressed in rags. He walked slowly toward the entrance of the forensic building. His movements were unnatural, jittery.

Karan narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell is that?"

Naina's grip on her gun tightened. "Wait."

The man reached the security post and knocked on the glass.

The officer inside slid the window open. "Can I help you?"

The man suddenly jerked his head up.

And Aryan's stomach dropped.

The man's eyes were blank, lifeless. His lips moved without sound.

Then, in a single motion, he pulled something from his pocket—a folded note—and pressed it against the glass.

The officer hesitated before taking it.

The moment the paper left the man's hand, he collapsed.

Right there on the ground.

Limp. Like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Riya gasped. "What the—?"

Naina was already out of the car.

Karan and Aryan followed as officers rushed forward, weapons drawn.

The officer who took the note carefully unfolded it.

And in bold, red ink, the words read:

"She is next."

Naina stiffened.

She didn't have to ask.

She already knew.

The message was for her.

Before anyone could react, a loud crack rang through the night.

A bullet shattered the air, missing Naina by inches.

"GET DOWN!" Aryan shouted, shoving Naina out of the way as another shot rang out.

The officers pulled their weapons, taking cover behind cars and barriers. Karan grabbed Riya, shielding her as they ducked behind a police van.

Naina rolled to her feet, gun drawn. "Sniper! Northeast rooftop!"

Aryan spotted him—a dark silhouette against the city skyline.

Whoever it was, they were fast. The sniper had already moved positions, vanishing behind another building.

Naina gritted her teeth. "We can't let him escape!"

She and Aryan took off in pursuit, sprinting toward the nearby fire escape.

Karan stayed behind with Riya, scanning the crowd. The beggar's body still lay motionless on the ground, his lifeless eyes staring into nothing.

Something about the way he collapsed… it wasn't normal.

"Karan," Riya whispered. "What if he wasn't just some beggar?"

Karan exhaled sharply. "Then that means the cult isn't just watching us."

His eyes darkened.

"They're controlling people, too."

Aryan and Naina reached the rooftop, their breaths ragged as they scanned the area. The sniper was already gone.

Aryan clenched his fists. "Damn it!"

Naina's phone buzzed. A text message.

Unknown Number:

"She is next."

She gritted her teeth. This was personal now.

Aryan looked around, his mind piecing things together.

"They had two distractions," he muttered. "The beggar… and the sniper."

Naina exhaled. "They weren't trying to kill me."

Aryan nodded. "Not yet."

They exchanged a knowing glance.

The cult wasn't just sending a warning.

They were toying with them.

And worse—they were one step ahead.

Back at the station, Aryan and Naina sat in the interrogation room, staring at Naina's phone.

The message was encrypted. No traceable number, no origin.

"They planned everything," Karan muttered, arms crossed.

Aryan sighed. "Which means they'll make their real move soon."

Riya, still shaken, whispered, "What do they want?"

No one answered.

Because the truth was far worse than any of them wanted to admit.

This wasn't just a threat.

It was a countdown.

Naina was officially their next target.

And time was running out.

Elsewhere…

A darkened room. A group of figures in hooded robes stood in a circle, their voices chanting in eerie unison.

At the center, a man in a metallic mask stood before a burning pendulum-shaped sigil.

He held up a knife, dripping with blood.

"She will resist," he murmured, staring at Naina's photo in his hand.

"But the Abyss always takes what it is owed."

He placed the photo into the flames.

And smiled.