Shattered Reflections : Unmasking the shadows of Lucknow

Chapter 9

Vihaan had been pursuing Prince Kaur, an influential figure in Lucknow for many years. Throughout his time, he had operated as the Salvatore Vincent Maroni of this city, a well-known mob boss in the city’s underworld, unbeknownst to the Mayor’s office.

Noticing a suspicious bartender, Vihaan enticed him with money and shared a confidential message in a hushed tone. The bartender nodded and disappeared into another room. Inside, he encountered Prince Kaur and informed him of an individual waiting outside to meet him. Prince Kaur instructed his companions to vacate the room, allowing Vihaan to enter. As Vihaan stepped into the room, he found himself surrounded by a club-like atmosphere, with music and an ambiance suited for dancing and entertainment.

The person asserted, "No one dares to enter my domain while I'm present. Who are you?”
Vihaan inquired, “Are you Prince Kaur?”
Kaur replied, “Calm down, young man. Yes, I am. And who might you be?”
Vihaan responded, “I am Vihaan Veer Singh, an investigative officer assigned to delve into your connections with the underworld.”
Kaur remarked, “Ah, so you prefer a direct approach.”
He continued, “Vihaan Veer Singh, son of Aaditya Veer Singh. Your father and I were good friends.”
Vihaan retorted, “The past is irrelevant. Either reveal all your underworld secrets or I will put an end to your game.”
Kaur replied, “All the secrets, even those from the 90s?”
Vihaan questioned, “What do you mean?”
Kaur stated, “Secrets from your childhood, Robin, regarding your parents’ demise.”
Vihaan exclaimed, “Why are you bringing them up now?”
Kaur responded, “I will disclose an untold secret to you. Your parents were murdered that day; the accident was merely a cover-up.”
Vihaan exclaimed, “What? So are you suggesting you are lying now?”
Kaur replied, “If I wanted to lie, I could fabricate anything.”


Suddenly, Vihaan’s phone rang, and it was Isha on the other end. Isha appeared distressed and tearful as she spoke, “Please come here immediately.”
Vihaan swiftly rose from his seat in the room.
Kaur asked, “What happened? Are you scared?”
Vihaan retorted, “You should be scared now. Your demise is imminent.”
Kaur responded, “Ponder over my words.”
Vihaan exited the room.
The rooftop bar resonated with the song “My Heart Is Beating” from the movie Julie, sung by Preeti Sagar. The bar dancers captivated the audience with their performances, and intoxicated patrons reveled in the night.
As Vihaan made his way out, he encountered a group of Prince Kaur’s henchmen blocking his path. In his haste to reach the hospital, sensing an emergency, Vihaan transformed the rooftop bar into a chaotic arena reminiscent of a fight club. He fiercely battled the goons, and the fight unfolded amidst the backdrop of the song. Some goons were stabbed under tables, others were struck with bar bottles, and a few were hurled off the building. Remarkably, the rooftop patrons remained undisturbed by the commotion, seemingly unfazed by the rooftop brawl. In the midst of the rain, several goons were flung from the rooftop.

Vihaan, driven by urgency and a sense of foreboding, raced through the rain-soaked streets of Lucknow, flouting traffic rules and maneuvering sharply to reach the hospital as quickly as possible. The sound of Isha’s voice on the phone had conveyed her fear and hinted at a grave problem.

Arriving at the city hospital at 11 o’clock, Vihaan hurriedly ascended the stairs. The floor seemed deserted, with only a handful of people present. Spotting Isha outside Tara’s room, tears streaming down her face, Vihaan’s heart sank.

Unaware of the details, he followed Isha’s gaze, which led him to witness a horrifying sight. Tara’s lifeless body hung from the ceiling in her room. The shock and anguish overwhelmed Vihaan, causing him to cry out, “Taraaaa!”

His anguished cries contrasted with the song that echoed from inside the room, likely playing for Tara’s patient or as her own preference. The song playing was “He’s Evil” by The Kinks.

“And once you’re in there’ll be no getting out,
So look out, look out, look out, look out.
He’s evil. He’s evil. He’s evil. He’s evil. He’s evil.
He’s evil. He’s evil. He’s evil. He’s evil. He’s evil.”


Vihaan’s desperate attempts to rescue Tara from her tragic fate proved fruitless. He arrived too late, and the sight of Tara’s lifeless body hanging from the ceiling confirmed the harsh reality. It wasn’t just a nightmare; it was a nightmare turned into a horrifying reality. Scattered documents littered the floor, and amidst the sorrowful scene, Vihaan noticed Isha crawling towards him, her condition preventing her from standing. Blood seeped from her back, and with her last breath, she uttered, “No. 34.”

Rain continued to pour outside, mirroring the tears streaming down Vihaan’s face. Once again, the agony of loss engulfed him. Every person he attempted to love seemed to slip away, then and now. The room’s flickering lights struggled to maintain stability due to the power fluctuations caused by the rain. On the wall, a chilling message caught Vihaan’s attention: “Who’s next? The Mayor, The Vice, The Assistant, The Head, or the commoner or the Team.” The words “Vice” and “Team” were ominously underlined.

In a state of turmoil, Vihaan reached out to Karan, seeking support.

On the following day, the funeral took place in a somber crematorium in Lucknow. Amidst the silence, the crackling of the funeral pyre pierced the air. Isha and Tara’s bodies were consumed by the flames, while their grieving parents mourned with hearts heavy with sorrow.

Mayor Tyagi, overcome by grief, found solace in Vihaan’s embrace. The mayor had lost his only child, and Vihaan, filled with anguish, shared in his sorrow. Karan and Amrita stood alongside them, honoring the two young girls with a moment of silence. It was evident to everyone present that the idea of suicide for these once-happy girls was unfathomable. Vihaan firmly believed that their deaths were the result of a meticulously planned murder. Mayor Tyagi, consumed by fear, implored Vihaan to escape from this inferno, lest he too fall victim to the clutches of evil. Having already lost his father, best friend, and now the mayor’s daughter, Mayor Tyagi was afraid of losing Vihaan as well.

Vihaan reassured him, “Don’t worry, Uncle. I will bring an end to this tale of evil and ensure justice for all those who have died.”

In the midst of the funeral, Vihaan overheard murmurs from a few individuals discussing rumors about the malevolence lurking in Lucknow. They spoke of a curse that befalls whoever becomes the mayor, resulting in the deaths of the mayor and their family members. The conversation continued, mentioning how the evil entity eliminates anyone associated with the mayor, positioning themselves as a revolutionary force. Vihaan chose to ignore the rumors, focused on uncovering the truth.
In the safe house located in Hajratganj, Vihaan sat in silence, deep in thought about the events of the previous night. Karan and Amrita were also present with him.

Trying to offer reassurance, Karan said, “Vihaan, it’s alright. We will find the murderers.”
Vihaan responded, “But everyone who gets close to me either gets hurt or dies. It’s a long list: my parents, Rachel, Harish, Uncle Raj, and now Isha and Tara.”
He added with a heavy sigh, “I don’t know who’s next.”
Karan questioned, “Who’s next?”
Vihaan replied, “The Vice.”
Confused, Karan asked, “The Vice?”
Vihaan clarified, “Prince Kaur is the Vice’s next target.”
He emphasized, “This is all connected. Prince Kaur knows some deep secrets, and we need to get to him before he gets to us.”

Interrupting their conversation, Amrita shared some news she had come across, saying, “Guys, there’s a rumor going around that a few more members of the Lucknow council have been found dead.”

Vihaan grimly stated, “He’s just killing them all.”

Amrita then revealed that she had obtained the CCTV footage from the hospital on the previous night. However, only the footage from the corridor was available, capturing a man entering and leaving a specific cabin. The man entered around 10 p.m. and departed at 10:50 p.m., with intermittent blinking lights caused by the rain. As darkness engulfed the area, the man turned to face the CCTV camera. He wore a disturbing mask, the same one that had appeared 25 years ago on that fateful day. Pulling out his gun, he shot the camera, leaving a black and white screen of errors in its wake. The footage, recorded in thermal or night vision due to the darkness, revealed little else.


At approximately 10 o’clock at night, inside the hospital,
A man dressed formally entered Tara’s cabin.

On the previous night,
A man walked into the cabin and inquired, “Is this Dr. Tara’s cabin?”
Tara responded, “Yes, how can I help you?”
He replied, “Ma’am, I believe I’m experiencing depression and I need assistance.”

Approaching a chair, he continued, “I have been feeling incredibly stressed lately, and my medications don’t seem to be working.”
Tara asked, “Could you please share your symptoms or any personal details from your journal?”
He glanced at the music player in the cabin.
He requested, “Could you play a song, please? It might help me feel better.”
Tara inquired, “Certainly, which song would you like?”
He replied, “ ‘He’s Evil’ by The Kinks.”
Tara replied, “Hmm, I’ve never heard it before, but let’s give it a try.”
She played the song softly in the background, its rhythmic and melancholic melody setting the tone.

The man handed his journal to Tara.

As she opened it, she came across a chilling sentence: “Why wasn’t No. 34 set free?”
Fear gripped her as she read those words.


Tara’s eyes widened as she lowered the journal, only to find a man wearing a bone-chilling, creepy mask standing before her. Without a moment’s hesitation, he swiftly moved closer, wielding a syringe filled with a lethal concoction. The serum contained a poisonous drug that would ensure her demise, making it appear as if she had taken her own life. With a cold and calculated manner, he injected the deadly substance into her veins. As the venom coursed through her body, Tara’s life began slipping away. He proceeded to hoist her lifeless form up, suspending her from the ceiling to create the illusion of suicide. The room now bore witness to a scene of twisted horror, marking yet another casualty in this sinister web of darkness.
Upon arriving at the hospital to investigate the crime scene, Vihaan and Karan were met with a flurry of activity. Doctors buzzed around, and cautionary “do not enter” tapes were erected to keep unauthorized individuals at bay. As Vihaan’s eyes fell upon Tara’s lifeless body, a chilling sight awaited him—a conspicuous wound encircling her neck, oozing blood.

Karan remarked, “It’s identical to the wounds on those commoners who perished in prison.”
Vihaan grimly replied, “This situation is spiraling out of control.”

A document was handed to Vihaan by the investigation department, discovered at the crime scene. It was a register containing the names of individuals who had sought counsel from Tara. One name caught Vihaan’s attention—No. 34, listed as Dharam. As he scanned the associated address, an unsettling revelation emerged—it was an empty location. Seeking clarification, Vihaan consulted the investigation team. An officer explained that Dharam, known as Prisoner No. 39, had been held in a special cell for the past 30 years.

Intrigued, Vihaan expressed his desire to meet Dharam for investigation purposes. The officer cautioned that permission would need to be obtained from the head office. If granted, Vihaan could conduct the inquiry in the designated investigation cell; otherwise, he would have to settle for a meeting behind bars. The officer stressed their limited ability to assist in that scenario. Vihaan nodded resolutely, accepting the circumstances.

After being informed that permission to meet Dharam had been denied, Vihaan sought further information. Curiosity gnawed at him as he inquired about the precautions taken to prevent Dharam’s escape. The officer assured Vihaan that they maintained constant vigilance over him, recounting instances when Dharam had been transferred to the hospital due to severe panic attacks.

Undeterred by the setback, Vihaan made his way to the prison’s cellar. As he approached, memories flooded his mind—a photograph capturing laughter between two men, juxtaposed with the desolation of another man sitting alone in a corner. The jailer’s gruff voice interrupted his thoughts, and Vihaan’s gaze was drawn to an elderly man in his 50s or 60s emerging from the shadows. Though initially obscured, when the man traversed the narrow opening allowing a beam of sunlight to penetrate the room, Vihaan caught sight of his face, causing him to reel in shock. The man bore a striking resemblance to his late Uncle Damien. Confounded, Vihaan blurted out, “What? Damien Uncle, I thought I killed you yesterday.





The prisoned man unperturbed, retorted, “I am Dharam. Who is Damien?”

Shaking off the eerie coincidence, Vihaan pressed on, querying Dharam’s connection to Tara. Instead of a direct response, Dharam withdrew four cards from his pocket, presenting them to Vihaan. Perplexed, Vihaan questioned their significance.
Dharam calmly replied, “These are the jacks,” revealing the Jacks of Spades, Hearts, Clubs, and the Ace of Hearts.
Baffled, Vihaan demanded, “Why are you showing me these cards?”

Dharam cryptically responded, “A jack is merely a servant to the highness,” hinting at a deeper meaning. He continued, “We are like these jacks, ensnared by someone or something, yet we choose to turn a blind eye.”
He added, “ we are the four jacks trapped by the king and the queen.”
He laughed wickedly.

Unwilling to delve into the enigmatic words, Vihaan refocused the conversation on Tara.
Dharam nonchalantly replied, “Tara? Ah, the lovely girl who came to investigate me that day. I had no hand in her fate.”

Suddenly, Dharam’s demeanor shifted, and he began to exhibit signs of distress. An anguished outburst rent the air as he succumbed to a panic attack. Swiftly responding to the commotion, the jailers hurried to Dharam’s side, urging Vihaan to depart. In light of Dharam’s condition, they explained, he would be administered an injection to induce sleep for several hours. Reluctantly, Vihaan left, his mind swirling with unanswered questions. As Vihaan struggled against the men restraining him in the cellar, his desperation grew. He could sense the pain Dharam must have endured. One figure approached him, syringe in hand. Without warning, Vihaan felt the prick of the needle, and a wave of dizziness and calm washed over him. Darkness enveloped his consciousness as he slipped into unconsciousness.
Emerging from the prison, Vihaan’s eyes scanned the rows of cells, filled with inmates serving their sentences. Among them, an elderly man caught his attention, silently cautioning Vihaan to remain quiet. Dharam’s words of the Jack echoed in his mind, emphasizing their shared predicament of being trapped, yet disregarded. In the midst of his contemplation, Vihaan’s phone rang, jolting him back to the present. Karan’s voice filled his ear, revealing a disturbing revelation—they had discovered that both Isha and Tara had been administered the same drug as the deceased commoners. Each passing day brought new connections and unexpected twists to the case, unveiling a web of intricate complexities. The puzzle they faced was expanding, its tendrils reaching deeper into the unknown.