The Villain – Chapter 1- The Mark of S(Sully)

The Villain – Chapter 1: Sully

Rain streaked down the darkened streets, turning neon reflections into twisted rivers of red and blue. The city slept uneasily, unaware that a predator moved silently among them. He was no ordinary man. He was Sully. And no one knew who he really was.

In a luxury high-rise, a businessman named Arjun Malhotra glanced at his watch, satisfied with another day of deals and power. Pride radiated from him like heat from a flame. He smiled, unaware that his every secret—his lies, his hidden sins, even the bodies he had buried—were being watched.

Sully was in the shadows, unseen. A quiet observer. He studied Arjun’s routine with precision, noting when he left the office, which streets he took, the security cameras that followed him like obedient guards. Everything was part of the plan.

No one knew what Sully looked like. Some said he didn’t exist, others whispered about a ghost that punished the arrogant. But Sully was very real. And tonight, he moved closer to his next target.

Arjun exited his car, muttering about unfinished deals, unaware of the eyes that tracked his every move. A figure slipped from the alley, blending with the darkness, silent as the mist curling around the streetlights. Sully’s presence was almost… unreal.

Moments later, a scream cut through the night. Arjun’s body crumpled, the life fading from his eyes. Sully stood over him for only a heartbeat, ensuring no trace of his existence remained, before vanishing into the rain-soaked city.

By morning, the police would find a scene without answers. No fingerprints. No motive. Just a prideful man silenced, and a mystery that would grip the city.

Sully watched from afar, a shadow in a world of ignorance. He had no name. No past. Only a purpose. And tonight was just the beginning.

Ending Line (Cliffhanger):

Somewhere in the city, another arrogant soul laughed in ignorance. Sully’s eyes were already on them.

-The Mark of S

The rain had not stopped since last night. It washed over the city like a curtain, as if trying to cleanse the sins that lurked in every alley. But some stains could never be erased.

At dawn, a street sweeper stumbled upon something that froze him in his tracks. In the shadows of the alley, sprawled across the cold pavement, lay the lifeless body of Arjun Malhotra, the powerful businessman who only yesterday had strutted out of his office with pride in his chest.

But it wasn’t the death alone that made the sweeper scream.

On the victim’s right hand, crudely carved into the flesh, was a single letter:

S.

The police arrived within the hour. The scene was cordoned off, reporters already buzzing around like vultures. And then came the trio who would lead the investigation.

Detective Nolan stepped out first. At 49, he was still sharp-eyed, his dark coat swaying with the morning wind. He bent down beside the body, his brow furrowed.

“Clean work. No struggle. Just… precision.”

Detective Hartley, 58, followed. He was the serious one, a man who never wasted words. His jaw was set, his eyes locked on the carved letter. “This isn’t random,” he muttered. “This is a message. Whoever did this… wanted us to know.”

The last to arrive was Detective Kim, the oldest of the three at 60. His back ached, his knees cracked, but his wit had never dulled. He crouched slowly beside the corpse and let out a low whistle.

“Well, well… looks like our mystery man finally learned how to sign his work. S, huh? Stands for what? Smartass?”

Nolan shot him a look, but couldn’t hide the faint smirk tugging at his lips. Kim always managed to crack jokes even when death was staring them in the face.

Hartley ignored the humor, his voice steady and grave. “He’s marking territory. This isn’t about money. This isn’t a mugging. This is ritual.”

The officers studied the scene carefully. No fingerprints. No weapon. No sign of forced entry. The cameras nearby had mysteriously glitched during the night, showing nothing but static. Whoever this “S” was, he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Damn ghost,” Nolan muttered under his breath.

Kim straightened up, stretching his back with a groan. “Ghost or not, I want to meet the guy. Anyone who can carve a letter this neat in the rain must have steady hands. Maybe he’s a surgeon, maybe an artist.” He chuckled. “Or maybe just a bored lunatic.”

Hartley’s eyes narrowed. “No. He’s not bored. He’s hunting.”

The silence that followed was heavy. The rain tapped against their umbrellas, the city moving on as though nothing had happened. But the three detectives knew the truth.

This was only the beginning.

Somewhere, the killer known only by a single letter watched them. He was unseen, untraceable.

And his name was Sully.

Cliffhanger Ending:

From a rooftop across the street, hidden in the shadows, Sully observed the officers with quiet interest. His lips curled into a faint smile. “Let’s see if you can catch me before the city runs out of its prideful kings,” he whispered to the rain.

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