The Vengeance!

It was in the month of January. The darkness cloaked the night in the absence of the moon. The winter fog hovered freely, making it difficult for even a person with perfect vision to pierce through. The icy wind had already drawn the people towards the comfort of their apartments and homes. Nikita was busy turning the pages of a book that she struggled very hard to read. She felt very tired. Yawning, she reached out to turn off the lamp. She lay on her impeccably oval shaped bed to catch some sleep. After an hour, when she was in the deepest of her sleep, a very soft push was made to the door and a furtive figure entered the room. Tiptoeing carefully, making sure not to make any noise, the figure dragged a pillow kept on the other side of the bed. Nikita’s sleep was broken from the disturbance by the intrusion. As she turned to have a look, the figure placed the pillow on her mouth, strangulating her. Nikita’s almond eyes grew wide as if they had seen a ghost. Gasping for breath, she kicked her legs as high as she could in the air. Help me, Help me! She screamed in silence. Gasping for breath, sweating heavily, she pleaded for mercy. The vision was getting hazy every single second due to lack of oxygen. She could feel the numbness in her upper limbs that began to spread. She watched in dazed fascination as the figure pressed the pillow hard against her face, blocking every open passage of air completely. Soon, the darkness of the night took over her eyes, she no longer felt anything. The figure assembled everything back in place in haste. It fumbled a rope in the large black leather bag as it prepared its escape from the window at the backside.    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The next morning came as a shock for the Arora's. The only daughter had been brutally murdered in the darkness that took over the moonless night. SSP Shamsher Singh, a person with medium height, but ridiculously muscled had intentionally taken over the case himself. He was popularly known as the Sherlock Holmes of the east by his fellow officers. He was a man with an attitude of that of a sleuth, applying his skills in everything that raised any form of suspicion. He had solved several murder mysteries, complicated or simple efficiently and discreetly. With an eye of that of an eagle, he was able to see what others felt of no worth. “There is someone involved who is very close to the family.” He mumbled as he picked the pillow with which she was strangulated. He neatly placed the pillow in a large plastic bag. After all it was the murder weapon, the only piece of evidence that could help him to take on the culprit. The extreme left corner of the room was occupied by Malini, Nikita’s mother. She was devastated. She could see the reel of images that were vivid and alive. She was in the kitchen, gossiping with her, telling her that how important she was to her and her late father. She stood there, numbed with grief. In the meanwhile, Shamsher had cleared up the room with all the possible evidence he could gather to catch hold the assassin. The thing that made an itch in his mind was a medicine named Alprax, a tranquilizer that was kept hideously in a drawer of Malini's room. Why would she be taking Alprax? She seemed normal. Shamsher also picked a prescription in the name of Malini Arora of doctor Yogesh, a clinical psychologist and placed it secretly in the bag along with a Silver Bracelet that he found near the window of Nikita’s room which seemed to belong to the assassin.
This story is published in the June issue of Storizen Magazine. Do read the full story here (page no. 60 - 62).