CHAPTER - 3: THE COLD DOMAIN

Meanwhile, in another part of town, a quiet house sat under the cloak of night.

From one of its windows, a soft, insistent voice called:

"Wake up… wake up…"

Inside, a nine-year-old boy slept peacefully, completely unaware. The voice came again, louder this time:

"Wake up… wake up…"

He didn’t stir. He was deep in sleep, lost in his own world.

Outside, she approached the window, the shadows stretching in the dim glow of the streetlight, and knocked lightly. No response.

Frustrated, she moved to the main door. To her surprise, it wasn’t locked. She pushed it open carefully.

11:58 PM.

Inside, she moved cautiously, searching for the boy’s room.

11:59 PM.

She peeked in, taking note of the sleeping parents, the scattered toys, the faint hum of the night. Everything seemed normal. But then she moved closer to the boy.

12:00 AM.

A sudden, eerie laugh echoed from the room:

"Darling… ha ha ha ha ha."

It wasn’t her laugh. And it wasn’t his.

"What are you thinking, darling… ha ha ha…"

Shara froze, her heart hammering in her chest. Shock rippled through her as her eyes darted around the boy’s room—the very place from where the haunting voice had come.

But there was… nothing.

Nothing at all.

A cold dread crawled up her spine. Fear gripped her like icy fingers, squeezing tighter with every second. Her breath came in sharp, panicked bursts. Without another thought, she turned and fled, her feet pounding the floorboards as fast as her body could carry her, the shadows of the house stretching and twisting behind her.

    CHAPTER-3: THE COLD DOMAIN

4:03 AM.

The first pale light of dawn crept hesitantly through the edges of the city. From the window of one of the rooms, Shara peered out, her eyes scanning the quiet street below.

Her mind raced, spinning questions she didn’t want answers to.

Whose voice was that? What was it? Who… who was it?

Was it following me? Is it still out there, somewhere, watching me?

A shiver ran down her spine as the uncertainty clawed at her. Every shadow in the dim morning light seemed alive, stretching toward her, waiting.

Shara stepped away from the window, shaking off the lingering chill. She walked to her wardrobe and pulled out her clothes, her movements methodical, almost automatic.

Carrying them carefully, she moved to the washroom. She brushed her teeth first, the rhythmic swish of the brush oddly grounding her against the tremor of fear still clinging to her.

Once done, she peeled off her nightwear and stepped into the shower. Warm water cascaded over her, washing away the physical remnants of sleep, while her fingers worked methodically through her hair and scalp, cleansing, untangling, preparing her for the day.

She washed herself thoroughly, letting the water run over every part of her, before finally settling into the bathtub for a brief moment, the steam curling around her like a protective shroud.

Soon, she stepped out, dried herself, and methodically combed her hair until it fell smoothly around her shoulders. Breakfast followed—quiet, routine, necessary—and then she dressed and prepared for school, each movement precise, almost ritualistic, carrying her from the shadows of uncertainty into the first light of day.

Shara entered the school quietly and made her way to the staff room. She greeted everyone with a soft, cheerful, “Good morning,” and returned smiles from the teachers around her.

As she settled into a corner, snippets of conversation drifted to her ears.

“Did you hear those noises last night?” one teacher asked another, her voice laced with curiosity and unease.

“No… which noises?” the second replied, frowning.

“That… darling-like sounds… and laughter,” the first whispered, as if afraid someone else might overhear.

“What?” the second teacher asked, startled.

Another teacher joined in, her voice low, “Yes, I heard them too—from my child’s room. It was… strange.”

“And do you know whose voice it was?” the first teacher pressed.

“No,” the third replied. “But I told the principal. They said they’d inform the head officer.”

Shara sat silently, her heart quickening. She could feel the weight of their words, the unease creeping around her like a shadow. Every laugh, every whisper from the night before seemed alive again, hanging in the staff room air.

The principal’s office was quiet. Rehan leaned back in his chair, calm and observant, his eyes never leaving the principal.

Principal: “Sir… this is what happened…”

Rehan: “Well… say whatever you want. Let’s see if the one who did it even has guts.”

Principal: “What do you mean?”

Rehan: “They said ‘darling’… and on top of that… who knows? Maybe it was for the kid’s mother.”

Principal: “Sir…”

Rehan: “Ah, never mind. Tell me — who’s the oldest staff member in this school?”

Principal: “Sir… there’s a peon and a teacher.”

Rehan: “How long have they been here?”

Principal: “Sir… about seven or eight years.”

Rehan: “I understand the peon… but the teacher — she’s still just a teacher? Didn’t she become principal?”

Principal: “She did… but then I was appointed.”

Rehan: “Why?”

Principal: “She couldn’t manage it.”

Rehan: “And her reaction?”

Principal: “I don’t know… I wasn’t there.”

Rehan: “How does she speak with you?”

Principal: “Normally… and respectfully.”

Rehan: “By the way… how old is she?”

Principal: “Probably… sixty-seven, something like that.”

Rehan: “Who do you think the culprit is?”

Principal: “Shara.”

Rehan: “Why?”

Principal: “You also suspected her, didn’t you?”

Rehan: “We did… but why do you think so?”

Principal: “Sir… my gut tells me.”

Rehan: “And her behavior with the students?”

Principal: “It’s good… the students like her too.”

Rehan: “You mean male students?”

Principal: “No… I mean all students. But yes, she interacts a little better with male students than female — just my observation, sir.”

It was 9:00 AM, fifth class. The classroom buzzed softly with the morning energy of students settling in. Shara entered, carrying her English book, ready to begin the lesson.

“Good morning!” The children greeted her warmly.

“Good morning, everyone,” Shara replied with a smile, gesturing for them to take their seats.

She walked to her table at the front of the class and opened her English book. Her eyes scanned the room, observing her students as they settled in.

Her gaze fell on a boy sitting at the first bench by the window, on her right. She noticed immediately that the top button of his shirt was undone.

Walking over, Shara leaned slightly toward him. The boy looked up at her, a little startled.

Gently, she began fastening his button.

Shara (smiling politely): “See? I told you to check your shirt, didn’t notice it was open.”

Boy: “No, ma’am.”

Shara: “It’s okay.”

Once the button was secured, Shara returned to her table, placing her book down and beginning the lesson, the classroom settling into a quiet focus.

11:00 AM

Shara stood in front of the washroom mirror, her hands clasped together as if trying to steady herself.

What was it…? she wondered, her mind restless.

Her reflection stared back at her, calm and composed, but then an image flashed across her mind.

A boy sitting on a chair, looking up at her, whispering nervously, “No… no, ma’am.”

Shara blinked, shaking the memory off. Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the mirror, letting the thought drift as she walked back.

12:00 PM

Shara saw the same boy again — the one whose button she had fastened earlier that morning. He was standing alone on the school ground, away from the noise of the other students.

She walked closer, her expression calm but curious.

“You’re not in class,” she said gently. “Why?”

The boy hesitated. “I… I went to the washroom.”

Shara tilted her head slightly. “The washroom? Why?”

He looked down, shifting his feet. “Because… uh… I had to go.”

For a moment, she studied his face — the hesitation, the nervous pause. Then her expression softened.

She placed her hand lightly on his cheek, gave him a brief, affectionate kiss on the top of his head, and walked away without saying another word.

1:30 PM

The school day was over. Students poured out through the gates, voices fading as they headed home. Shara stepped outside as well, adjusting the strap of her bag.

That’s when she noticed the same boy again — walking alone, on foot.

She hesitated for a moment, then walked toward him.

The boy glanced back, already moving ahead, when her voice reached him.

“Hey, wait. I’m coming too.”

He stopped, surprised. “You…?”

She nodded lightly. “Yes. You’re going alone, right? Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

The boy thought for a second, then nodded. “Okay.”

They started walking side by side, the road unusually quiet at that hour.

“Hold my hand,” Shara said gently, more out of habit than concern.

He slipped his hand into hers, and they continued forward.

There was no one else around them — just the empty stretch of road, the sound of distant traffic, and their slow footsteps moving away from the school.

3:00 PM

The phone rang sharply in the principal’s office, cutting through the quiet afternoon.

He picked it up.

On the other end, a man’s voice came fast and shaken.

“Sir… my child still hasn’t come home from school!”

The principal straightened in his chair. “What? How is that possible?”

“I don’t care how,” the father snapped, panic bleeding into anger. “I want my child back — no matter what. If something has happened, I’ll file a complaint!”

“Please,” the principal said quickly, trying to steady his voice. “Calm down. I’ll contact the head officer immediately.”

“The head officer?” the man shot back. “Who is this head officer who hasn’t solved anything yet? Because of this, my child is missing!”

“Please remain calm,” the principal repeated, already reaching for the phone again. “I’m calling the head officer right now.”

The line went silent — but the tension in the room only deepened.

The phone rang, sharp and persistent, cutting through the silence of the room.

Rehan groaned, turning on the bed. His eyes stayed half-closed as he reached for the phone.

“Hello?”

On the other end, the principal’s voice became rushed and tense.

“Sir… another child has vanished.”

There was a pause.

“And?” Rehan replied flatly.

“And?” the principal repeated, stunned. “Sir, a child is missing!”

“So why are you calling me?” Rehan muttered. “Let me sleep.”

“Sir,” the principal said quickly, “you’re the head officer. You’re investigating this matter. You’re the one who has to solve it.”

Rehan exhaled slowly. “Whatever it is… leave me out of it.”

“Sir, the child’s parents are calling me nonstop,” the principal insisted.

“Then do one thing,” Rehan said lazily. “Tell the parents to stay calm for a while.”

“How can they stay calm?” the principal snapped. “Their child has vanished!”

There was a brief silence on the line.

Rehan yawned.

“Fine,” he said casually. “Ask them one thing.”

The principal frowned. “What?”

“Ask them when they want the child back.”

“What?”

“Ask them,” Rehan repeated, voice unchanged.

“Sir… obviously they want the child right now!”

Rehan stifled another yawn. “Not now,” he said. “Tell them to come tomorrow.”

The line went quiet.

10:00 P.M.

Tick… toc… Tick… toc… Tick… toc…

The sound echoed through the empty corridors of the school, steady and deliberate, like a clock counting down to something inevitable. Shadows flickered in the dim light, and somewhere, silence itself seemed to hold its breath.

10:57 P.M.

Rehan’s phone rang, cutting through the quiet of his room. He answered, voice calm, almost lazy, but his sharp gaze narrowed. “Hello.”

“Sir,” Shazi’s voice came, tense and hurried. “Bodies… they’ve been found… on the school rooftop.”

“Bodies…” Rehan repeated, disbelief lacing his low tone.

“Yes, sir.”

“How many?”

“Seven, sir.”

“Seven…” Rehan’s jaw tightened, and his voice dropped, controlled but sharp, each word carrying the weight of understanding. “Seven people…?”

“I don’t know yet, sir,” Shazi continued quickly. “I went back to check the school just a few minutes ago… that’s when I found them. The bodies… they don’t look very old.”

“Children?” Rehan asked, clipped, his calmness almost chilling.

“No, sir. Adults. All adults. Not a single child among them.”

Rehan stayed silent for a moment, letting the information sink in. The clock ticked in the background, each second amplifying the gravity of the situation.

Finally, his voice broke the silence, low and commanding:

“Stay there. I’m coming.”

The call ended.

11:30 P.M.

Rehan left the school silently. Shazi and the team were still inside, busy with the aftermath, unaware of his move.

He walked to the parking lot, where Albert’s car waited. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he started the engine. The soft hum of the car broke the quiet of the night.

Headlights cut through the darkness as he drove along empty streets. The city slept, but the streets carried a subtle tension, shadows shifting silently under the streetlights.

The night stretched ahead, calm yet heavy, holding the kind of quiet that makes every sound seem important.

11:58 P.M.

A ten-year-old boy slept quietly in his bed.

“Wake up… wake up…”

A soft voice came from outside.

“Wake up… wake up…”

The boy stirred and opened the window. There, under the dim glow of the streetlight, stood his English teacher, Shara.

“Hey, how are you?” she asked.

“Mam… you’re here at this time?” he said, surprised.

“Yes, I was alone, so I thought I’d come by… Come on, let’s go for a walk,” Shara replied.

“But mam… at this time?” the boy hesitated.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be with you,” she said, smiling gently.

He thought for a moment, then nodded.

11:59 P.M.

The boy quickly put on his jacket and stepped outside.

12:00 A.M.

“Darling… ha ha ha…”

The eerie voice echoed again. Fear shot through the boy, and Shara froze for a moment. The main door had already been opened. Without thinking, Shara grabbed the boy’s hand, pulling him along as they ran.

The voice continued, “What are you thinking, darling… ha ha ha…”

They had barely made it a short distance when another voice called from the left side:

“Where are you going… darling…”

Shara and the boy turned—and there was Rehan, sitting calmly on top of his car.

Shara froze, eyes widening. Slowly, realization hit her—this was the same voice.

The boy whispered, tense, “It’s… the same man.”

“What happened… darling?” Rehan asked, calm and steady.

Shara’s heart raced. “You… you were the one… all this time?” she breathed.

“Not all the time,” Rehan said, a faint smirk playing on his lips, “but… you can say… all the time.”

The boy blinked, trying to make sense of it. “Mam… this is the same voice from school, the one that gave us instructions not to tell anyone,” he said.

“Did you tell anyone ?” Rehan asked.

“No,” the boy said.

“Very good,” Rehan said softly.

Shara, still shocked, stepped slightly in front of the boy. “Why are you here?” she asked.

“It’s simple,” Rehan replied. “I’m here for you.”

He slid down from the car, standing directly in front of her, the night air thick around them, silent except for the distant hum of the city.

Morning was breaking, faint light filtering through the windows.

Rehan had brought Shara to her other house, leaving the boy safely behind. She opened the door reluctantly, only to find her wrists already restrained by handcuffs. Her heart skipped, but she didn’t resist—Rehan’s calm aura made her pause.

Rehan stepped inside, scanning the house with meticulous precision. Every room was searched, every corner examined. Then he opened one of the rooms, and there it was—the chair. The same chair that had appeared in Shara’s thoughts, surrounded by scattered items, a chaotic scene frozen in time.

Moving to the next room, Rehan found the children waiting.

“Oh, you’re all here. Well… how are you all? Oh, sorry,” he said, noticing the bindings over their mouths. With a careful hand, he removed the cloth from each of their faces.

His eyes landed on one child, neatly dressed in a school uniform.

“Very good,” Rehan said, smiling. “I see you kept your uniform on.”

The boy blinked, curious. “Why the uniform?”

Rehan chuckled softly. “Because I had placed chips in the uniforms. That way, I could see… and hear what was happening. And I realized, Shara, that you were the culprit.”

The child’s eyes widened. “When did you put them?”

“When I first came to school,” Rehan replied casually. “Every shoulder I touched, every step I observed—I knew.”

“Uncle… you’re a genius!” another child exclaimed.

Rehan smiled, a soft laugh escaping him. “Yes… Well, thank you.”

One of the children asked, “Why are you laughing?”

“Ah… nothing,” Rehan said, regaining his composure. “Now listen… are you all going to walk home together, or should I drop you off?”

“We’ll walk,” the children replied in unison.

“Very well, then,” Rehan said. Leading them out of the room, he guided them to the main hall. There, by the entrance, Shara sat, still cuffed and gagged. The children froze for a moment, fear evident in their eyes, but obediently followed him outside.

Rehan watched them go, standing tall by the doorway. “Goodbye,” he said softly, and closed the door behind them. Then his gaze returned to Shara.

Rehan stood by the doorway, his gaze fixed on Shara. It was different this time—no playful ease, no subtle teasing like he’d shown with the children. This was sharp, measured, investigative. Every line of his face carried seriousness, a weight that made even the shadows of the room seem heavier.

Shara froze, her eyes locked on his. For the first time, she saw the depth behind his calm demeanor—the awareness, the calculation. There was no trace of amusement, no leniency. Just the piercing look of someone who knew more than they should, someone who held the truth quietly, waiting for her next move.

A shiver ran down her spine. Fear mingled with anticipation. She wasn’t sure what he would do, what he expected her to do, or how far he was willing to go. And yet, she couldn’t look away.

For a few suspended moments, they simply stared at each other, a tense understanding settling between them. Two minds, two wills, both aware of the unspoken stakes. And in that silence, Shara realized—nothing about this encounter would be ordinary.

— — — — TO BE CONTINUED — — — — 

THE DOMAIN WASN'T OF SHARA,

     THE DOMAIN WAS REHAN'S. 

CHAPTER - 4: PSYCHO

                                     Written & created by 

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