Priya's POV: 

When I stepped outside, I saw a swarm of constables attempting to keep the frantic reporters from entering the station. They were trying to come inside the police station to view the body. I was angry at myself for not being able to prevent the psychotic killer from taking another person's life. Not only that, but now the media was also here. I was sure the news had made headlines by now. The public would be in a state of panic. Our efficiency would be called into question and our reputation would suffer. Overall, the situation had gotten out of hand.

'What am I going to say to the commissioner?' I thought solemnly.

Everything made me feel dizzy. I had no idea what to do. Suddenly the security was breached and the media rushed towards me with microphones and cameras. My eyes widened dramatically as I took in the stampede rushing towards me.

"What do you have to say about the killer?" a reporter hollered right next to my ear.

"Why did the commissioner lie?" a man said, looking clearly annoyed.

"Why is Mumbai police always inefficient in serving the public?" a woman all but yelled into the mic she held.

They bombarded me with questions one after the other. The constables were having difficulty separating them from me. When I didn't answer their questions, they began to push in even more. I didn't have space to breathe. They pushed me around, crushing my injured hand unknowingly. I winced in pain, my eyes getting glossy. Suddenly, one of the reporters pushed me back and I lost my balance. If a strong pair of arms hadn't caught me in time, I would have kissed the floor.

"Back the hell off if you don't want to breathe the air of prison" Arjun roared angrily. He looked at me and asked gently, "Are you ok?" The change in his tones did weird things to my insides. 

We were too close; his face was only a few inches away from mine. My senses were overwhelmed by his minty cologne. I nodded and took a step back to give us some breathing room. When he saw what I was doing, his jaw clenched for some reason. He turned away from me to glare at the reporters. The media quickly walked out of the station, murmuring amongst themselves. Arjun could be intimidating when he wanted to.

"The commissioner wants to meet you. He is coming here," Arjun announced with a blank face after we entered my office. Why was he so bipolar?

"But it's not safe for him. The media is waiting outside," I said with a concerned expression. 

"I told him, but he is adamant," Arjun replied. 

"I am sure he is disappointed with me," I said sadly. 

I shared a good bond with the commissioner, especially after I lost my parents. To me, he was more of a father figure than a boss. He had always supported me in the same way that my father would have if he was here. Arjun didn't reply to my comment. Instead, he changed the topic by asking what happened to my hand. I told him about the accident and waited for his reaction. All he said was 'take care' before walking away, leaving me disappointed.

'Why are you disappointed?' my conscience asked. 

"I don't know," I mumbled back absentmindedly. 

Suddenly the door to my office swung open and the commissioner walked in. He looked angry but behind the curtains of his anger, there was an emotion that I dreaded- disappointment. 

He was a calm man who never lost his cool easily. But once he did, you are dead meat. 

God, save me!

"What is this Mehra?" he hissed angrily, making me flinch. "What explanation do you have for this?"

I bowed my head, embarrassed. My lips were clenched. I couldn't think of anything to say about it. We were still at a standstill, with absolutely no leads. The company that brought the cupboard was a forgery. I believed the killer himself was the delivery man. When we reviewed the CCTV footage, we couldn't see his face. He was wearing a scarf because he claimed to have a contagious allergy. I wanted to yell at the inept cops for their carelessness, but I restrained myself. How could they have believed him when he was delivering a refrigerator to a police station? It was simply absurd.

"I am sorry sir," I replied, still refusing to look at his face. 

"Your sorry is not going to change anything, Mehra," he snapped back. "Did you get any leads regarding who the killer is?"

I shook my head and waited for him to lash out but instead, he did something else. He just sighed and said, "What happened to you, Ms. Mehra? The Mehra I know wasn't like this." 

I met his eyes, only to see sheer dismay shining in them. 

"We are trying sir, but the killer is too smart," I said.

"Then outsmart him, Mehra. I am giving you another chance. I have faith in you," the commissioner announced in a serious expression. 

"Thank you, sir," I said, sighing in relief. This case was important.

"But on one condition," he said sternly.

"What is it, sir?" I asked, perplexed.

"You are going to work with Arjun," he said in a voice that left no room for argument.

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Author's POV: 

The young man and the priest sat in front of the television, each with a glass of red wine, watching the breaking news.

"Look at those terrified expressions, God!" The young man laughed and pointed to the faces of people on TV, who were expressing their opinions about the Mumbai serial killer.

"They deserve it, child," the priest replied, taking a sip of his red wine and moaning as the flavours exploded in his mouth.

The young man switched the channel and sat up in attention when he saw a live interview of the commissioner. Along with the commissioner, there were two other officers; one lady who exuded smartness and a man who appeared to be dangerously intelligent. 

The commissioner spoke in an authoritative tone, "Yes, there is a serial killer on loose." 

The young man smiled widely but it was soon replaced by a frown when he heard the next statement. 

"But he is not as dangerous as he pretends to be." 

"So are you saying that he is not at all dangerous?" asked a reporter. 

"No, he has some mental health that is not stable, that's why he is killing people on instinct." 

"What about the 'god' message he wrote on the body? Is this a cult?" came another question. 

"No, that's why we said he has a mental illness. Why will god ask him to kill people?" the female officer replied nonchalantly. 

The young man fumed in anger and he looked at the priest who sat comfortably in the chair, smiling. 

"Are you not angry with them? She said you don't exist!" The young man gritted his teeth. 

"Don't lose your temper, child. Some people never learn until they are punished." The priest placed the almost finished wine glass back and took out a piece of paper from his pocket along with a photograph, and extended it towards the young man. 

"This is how you should punish her," the priest said and leaned back into his chair. 

The young man looked at the picture and frowned. "Who is this?"

"Someone very important to her." 

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Third Person's POV: 

I hurled the vase at the TV. My eyes were bloodshot and I was fuming angrily.

She was not removed from the case. 

Instead, they teamed her up with Nayak. Wait- no- Nair. Whatever.

Point was that she was still investigating the case. 

Argh! I just wanted to kill her now. 

'Not so soon!' my mind barked at me. 

It was right. I decided to take my time to crush that bitch- slowly. A frustrated sigh escaped my mouth when I realised I was still on the second step. I need to complete it first. 

'This time it won't go wrong!' I vowed.

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