Inside the police station, Ashok stood alone in a room, studying the murder report left by the previous investigator. He pinned the victim's photo onto a large city map on the wall, scribbling notes beside it as he traced connections. His eyes lingered on the map, searching for meaning in the patterns.
The door opened. Narasimma, the head officer and Ashok's friend, stepped in. He walked closer, watching Ashok's intense focus. "Found anything?" he asked.
Ashok turned briefly, his voice heavy. "No. The murders are the same. Exactly like four years ago. No change in the pattern."
A new voice broke the silence. "Four years back?"
Ashok turned sharply. Standing beside Narasimma was a young constable, Naren.
Ashok's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
Naren straightened instantly, offering a salute. "Constable Naren, sir. Forgive my manners. I've admired your work ever since you solved the serial killings four years ago, back when you were just a constable yourself. At that time, I was still in college, and you inspired me to join the force. Now I've been assigned to assist you on this case. It's an honour, and I look forward to working with you."
Ashok glanced at Naren, his brows furrowing. "Assist?" he muttered, almost in disbelief.
He turned sharply to Narasimma. "What? We already discussed this. I told you. I don't need assistance. He's just a young man. Relieve him from this case."
Narasimma's tone was firm. "No, Ashok. You need support."
Ashok shook his head. "But…"
Narasimma cut him off, his authority pressing down. "No buts. I'm your superior. You will obey my order."
Naren, caught in the middle, looked between them in confusion. His voice was steady but pleading. "Sir… I know you don't want me here. I know you can handle this alone. But I'll learn. I'll follow your lead. I won't let you down. Please allow me to work with you."
Narasimma placed a reassuring hand on Naren's shoulder. "Don't worry. I know him. He'll take you as his assistant. Am I right, Ashok?"
Ashok's reply was quiet, resigned. "Yes, sir. Do whatever you want. But make sure he doesn't interfere with my investigation."
Naren straightened immediately. "Yes, sir. I won't disturb you."
Narasimma smiled, satisfied. "Good. Then it's settled. You two will work together and solve this case. Ashok, fill him in with the details."
Ashok remained silent, his eyes fixed on the map. Narasimma sighed, shaking his head. "Fine. If you won't tell him, then tell me."
Ashok exhaled heavily, his voice low and deliberate. "As I said, the murders follow the same pattern as four years ago. The killer begins by cutting the ankle vein so the victim cannot run. Then comes the torture - slicing the skin across the body, arms, legs… everywhere. Finally, the throat is cut, leaving the victim to bleed out slowly. This isn't just killing - it's suffering. The murderer is a psycho who takes pleasure in pain. And when the victim dies, the killer smashes the face so identification becomes difficult. It's exactly the same as before… except for one case."
Narasimma frowned, leaning forward. "What do you mean?"
Ashok pulled a set of photographs from the table and spread them before Narasimma and Naren. His tone hardened. "The first victim was Vaibhav. He had been arrested for human trafficking, kidnapping girls and young women, selling them. He was released early last year. And then, in November, his body was found by the lakeside."
The room fell into silence. Narasimma's eyes darkened as he studied the photos, while Naren's face tightened, absorbing the brutality of the case. The weight of the killer's pattern and the exception, hung heavy in the air.
Ashok laid the second photo on the table, his voice steady but cold. "The second victim was Saroja. She was arrested alongside Vaibhav for human trafficking. They were partners in the same case, released at the same time. In December, she was found dead inside her own home."
He placed a third photo beside the others, then pointed to the marks on the city map. "The third victim was Aadvik. Ten years in prison for raping and murdering minors. Released on parole in October 2007. On New Year's night, his body was discovered deep in the forest."
Naren leaned closer, his brow furrowed as he studied the photos. His voice carried a mix of shock and realization. "All of them… they were criminals? Already arrested before?"
Ashok studied the photos laid out before him, his voice steady but grim. "Yes… all three victims committed unforgivable crimes. Each of them walked free with minimal punishment. But the fourth victim… she was different."
Naren and Narasimma exchanged confused glances. Ashok placed the latest photo on the table. "This woman was found in the forest last week. A divorced lady, living an ordinary life. She had done nothing wrong. So why was she killed?"
Ashok slid the fourth photo beside the third, pointing at the wounds on both bodies. "The wounds, the killing method, they look the same. But there's a difference."
Naren leaned closer, scanning the photo carefully. Narasimma frowned. "What difference?"
Ashok's eyes hardened as he explained. "In the first three murders, the victims were tortured. Every wound was deliberate, inflicted slowly, hour by hour. The killer enjoyed their suffering before finally cutting their throats. But in the fourth case… The wounds were inflicted all at once. No delay, no prolonged suffering. The throat was cut immediately."
His voice lowered slightly.
"It looked the same on the surface… but it wasn't. That killing wasn't torture, it was imitation. She wasn't tortured… she was staged."
Narasimma asked voice was tense. "Why would the killer do that?"
Ashok drew a long breath, his eyes lingering on the photos. "There are two possible reasons. The first one is that the woman had not committed any crime. From what we know, this killer only targets people who have done very serious crimes. So maybe he made a mistake. Maybe he was waiting for someone else, but in a hurry he chose the wrong person. He killed her quickly and then tried to make the murder look the same as the others by adding the same kind of wounds afterward."
Narasimma leaned forward. "And the second?"
Before Ashok could answer, Naren spoke, his eyes fixed on the photo. "A copycat killer."
Ashok turned to him, surprised by the interruption. Narasimma frowned. "Copycat killer?"
Ashok nodded slowly, his tone deliberate. "Yes. There could be another murderer. Someone who wanted this woman dead, and used the serial killings as cover. They killed her, then imitated the same wounds to make it look connected."
He pointed at the map where the photos were pinned. "And look at this, the third and fourth bodies were found very close to each other, both in the forest. If it was the same killer, I don't think he would risk using the same location twice. That's why I believe someone else may have taken advantage of the situation."
Narasimma's voice was sharp, filled with concern. "Then… there is another killer?"
Ashok shook his head slightly, his tone cautious. "It's possible. But right now it's only a theory."
Naren, who had been listening closely, spoke up with sudden confidence. "Whatever the case, the truth about the killer is hidden in the death of the last victim."
Narasimma turned to him, surprised. "Huh?"
Ashok glanced at Naren with a look of discomfort, but Naren continued, his eyes fixed on the photographs. "Think about it. If what you said is true, then there's only one reason. The real killer only targets criminals. If he really killed this woman, who was innocent, then the murders would stop—because she doesn't fit his pattern. But if she was killed by someone else, and that person tried to frame the serial killer, then the real killer won't stay silent. He will start hunting the one who copied him. If we truly have a second killer, we need to find him quickly. Then the original killer will automatically come after them… and that's when we'll have our chance to catch."
Narasimma's eyes widened, his voice heavy with realization. "If that's the case… then all the answers lie with the fourth victim."
Ashok's expression shifted, a mix of unease. Naren leaned forward, his voice firm. "Exactly." He stared at the photos spread across the table.
Suddenly, Naren noticed something unusual. He compared the third and fourth victim's photos with the map on the wall. His eyes narrowed. "There's something wrong here."
He bent over the third victim's photo, pointing at the clothes. "Look at this… there's sand on the body's clothing. But it doesn't look like the forest soil. It's different. I think he was killed somewhere else and then brought to the forest. If we can test the soil…"
Before Naren could finish, Ashok placed his hand firmly on the photo, cutting him off. His tone was sharp. "That's enough. I agreed to take you as my assistant, but don't interfere too much in the case. If I need your help, I'll ask. For now, leave it."
Ashok's harshness hung heavy in the room. Narasimma glanced at him, then stepped closer to Naren with a calmer voice. "Don't worry. He's always like that. Go to the document room and study the old case from four years ago. You might find something useful."
Naren nodded respectfully. Without another word, he left the room and walked down the corridor to the document archives.
After Naren left, Narasimma stepped closer to Ashok, his voice sharp with concern. "What is your problem? Why were you so harsh with him?"
Ashok silently handed over a document. Narasimma frowned and unfolded it. "What is this?"
Ashok's tone was calm but heavy. "It's the forensic report. The sand found on the third victim's clothes doesn't belong to the forest where the body was discovered. He was killed somewhere else and then brought there. Naren was right."
Narasimma's eyes widened as he read the report. "Then we can trace the location and start investigating it! He was doing a great job, so why did you shut him down? Is it because you don't want anyone else to shine apart from you?"
Ashok shook his head firmly. "It's not like that."
Narasimma pressed him, his voice softer but insistent. "Then what is it? Look, Ashok… Naren is a good cop. He's sharp, and he sees details others miss. I know you're brilliant—you can solve this case alone if you want. But with support, you can solve it faster, maybe even more completely. Don't push him away just because you're used to working alone."
Ashok's voice was heavy, almost breaking. "Narasimma… you know what happened four years ago. He's too young to suffer like that. I don't want anyone else to go through it."
Narasimma shook his head, his tone firm. "That was a long time back."
Ashok's eyes darkened as he replied. "Even so. I won't take the risk. Who knows what might happen? I won't allow it…"
Narasimma stepped closer, his words sharp but filled with care. "And what about you? Is it fine for you to suffer alone? I won't let that happen. First, you are my friend—only after that, you are a policeman."
He held Ashok's gaze, refusing to let him retreat into silence. "I'll say it again. What happened back then is over. Now we believe in you. If you and Naren join hands, you can catch this killer faster. Don't carry the weight alone. Stop thinking too much and start hunting them."
With that, Narasimma turned and left the room, his words lingering like both a command and a plea.
Ashok remained standing, staring at the map on the wall. His mind was caught between the ghosts of the past and the demands of the present. The silence pressed down on him, heavy with doubt and memory.
Meanwhile, in the document room, Naren sat at a desk, flipping open a thick, worn file. The title stamped across the cover read: "The Devil."
His eyes scanned the pages, absorbing every detail of the serial killings from four years ago—the brutality, the fear that gripped the city, and the legend of the murderer 'The Devil'. The deeper he read, the more he realized that the answers to the present case might lie hidden in those old shadows.