~The Midnight Call~
Detective Ananya Sharma stared at the clock. 2:57 AM. She hadn’t expected to be at her desk at this hour, but the city never slept, and neither did its problems. The phone on her desk buzzed, a jarring sound against the silence of the precinct. She picked it up, expecting another routine call.
“Sharma,” she answered tersely.
The voice on the other end was shaky, filled with panic. “Detective, you need to come to 437 West Rajpath Road. Now. There’s… there’s something you need to see.”
The line went dead before she could ask any questions. She grabbed her coat, slipped her gun into its holster, and headed out into the night.
West Rajpath Road was deserted, the streetlights casting eerie shadows on the pavement. 437 was a dilapidated house, its windows boarded up and the front door hanging ajar. Ananya approached cautiously, her hand hovering near her weapon.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of decay. The hallway was dark, save for a sliver of moonlight creeping through a crack in the boards. She moved quietly, her senses on high alert. A faint sound caught her attention, a rustling coming from the basement.
She descended the creaky stairs, her flashlight cutting through the darkness. The basement was a mess of old furniture and discarded junk, but in the center of the room, illuminated by her beam, was a small, metal box. It looked out of place, too new for the surroundings.
Ananya approached it slowly, her heart pounding. She knelt down, noticing a folded piece of paper taped to the top. She pulled it free and unfolded it. Written in neat, precise handwriting were the words: “For Ananya Sharma. Trust no one.”
Her pulse quickened. How did they know she would come? She lifted the lid of the box, revealing a collection of photographs, a burner phone, and a small vial of clear liquid. The photos were of her – taken without her knowledge, some recent, some from years ago. Her hands trembled as she picked up the phone. As soon as she did, it rang.
“Detective Sharma,” the voice on the other end said. “I see you’ve found my package. Good. There’s much to discuss, but not over the phone. Check the vial. It contains a substance that could change everything. Meet me at the old pier at dawn. Come alone, and remember: trust no one.”
The line went dead again. Ananya looked at the vial, its contents seemingly innocuous but holding the weight of the unknown. She pocketed the phone and vial, leaving the photographs behind.
As she drove towards the pier, the city loomed large around her, every shadow a potential threat. The pier was abandoned, the wooden planks creaking under her weight as she approached the end. A figure stood silhouetted against the first light of dawn.
“Ananya,” the figure called softly.
Ananya tensed, her hand inching towards her gun. “Who are you?” she demanded.
The figure stepped into the light, revealing a familiar face. It was Rajat Malhotra, an old colleague who had disappeared months ago under mysterious circumstances.
“Rajat? What is going on?” Ananya’s voice was a mixture of relief and confusion.
Rajat held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “There’s no time to explain everything. The vial you found contains evidence of a conspiracy that goes deeper than we ever imagined. There are people within our own department involved. They’re watching us, Ananya. We can trust no one.”
Ananya’s mind raced. The photographs, the phone call, the vial – it all pointed to something much bigger than she had anticipated. She nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation.
“We need to move quickly,” Rajat continued. “There’s a safe house nearby. We can plan our next steps from there. But remember, Ananya – trust no one.”
As they disappeared into the early morning mist, Ananya couldn’t shake the feeling that their lives were about to change forever.
