Ek Villian

Chapter 6 (The Breaking Point)

Rakesh sat at his desk, his senior, Usha, unleashing her fury upon him.

Usha: "You're an idiot! Completely useless. Oh, God! Rakesh Mahadkar, what do I do with you? What is this nonsense?"

Rakesh listened quietly, head bowed, eyes filled with anger he dared not express.

Brijesh: "Madam, I've made a lot of money in that illegal deal. Here's your share."

Usha: "You're a crafty one. Why don’t you rub some of that off on your friend here? You're so proactive, and he’s the laziest of the lot. Can you believe he asked me about his chances of being an employee of the month?"

Brijesh (mockingly): "Madam, he's a 2-rupee man."

Usha: "Exactly! The Xerox machine in this office works harder than you. Really, you’re not worth even 2 rupees."

Rakesh’s job required him to work in the field, going door to door, and repairing telephones. The constant humiliations at work and at home had worn him down. His latest job was no different.

A Stranger Woman: "Where are you lost? Have you come to repair the phone or waste my time? Lazy man! No wonder people don't bother with landlines anymore. Your service is pathetic. When we call, you don't come. And when you do, you don’t even fix the problem. I'm warning you—if my phone doesn’t work, I'll have the connection cut."

Rakesh, already on the edge, couldn't take it anymore. The pressure had been building for too long. He had always been passive, absorbing insults without reacting, but something snapped inside him this time.

The woman continued berating him, oblivious to the storm brewing within.

Stranger Woman: "I won't have to deal with lazy people like you anymore. And...what are you doing? Where are you going? Have you come to repair the phone or..."

But before she could finish, Rakesh took out a set of "killing clothes" from his bag and silenced her forever, slitting her throat. As she lay gasping for breath, Rakesh spoke to her with a chilling calmness.

Rakesh: "Madam, don't worry. You won't have any more complaints."

The woman struggled, her life slipping away, but Rakesh kept talking as if she were still listening.

Rakesh: "You shouldn’t have yelled at me. Everyone mocks me. They call me lazy. A beggar. My friend Brijesh is right—middle-class people like us, we’re crushed between the upper and lower classes. The world tortures us, the system tortures us, and when we go home, our wives torture us too."

He recounted how his wife, Sulochana, had thrown him out of the house.

Rakesh: "Sometimes, I feel like killing her. But I can never raise my hand against her. I love her too much. My Sulo...she’s my world, my everything."

By now, the woman was dead, but Rakesh was lost in his own world, still talking.

Rakesh: "My Sulo is so beautiful. Look at my face! She could have had anyone, but she chose me. She has every right to yell at me. But instead of her, I kill others like you. It’s the only way I can cope. Your pain doesn’t make me happy; it just…satisfies me. By killing you, I keep my love for her alive."

He continued, his voice eerily calm, as he explained his twisted reasoning.

Rakesh: "I even make gifts for my Sulo from every corpse. Most people live and die ordinary lives, but I want to be a hero in my own home. When Sulo gets a gift, she’s happy, and that makes me happy. It’s all for my family. My only dream is that Sulo sees me as her hero, so that she can tell me she loves me, and I can say to her...don't worry. You won't have any complaints against me."

Meanwhile, across the city, Guru stood alone, bruised and battered, his face a canvas of despair. His mind was a storm of emotions, each one tearing at him from within. As a sliver of light fell on his face, Aditya Rathore approached.

Aditya Rathore: "A criminal always returns to the scene of the crime. And a lover always comes back to where he first fell in love. I sent you to Goa with high hopes, to kill Caesar."

Guru, uninterested in Aditya's taunts, turned to leave, but Aditya’s next words stopped him cold.

Aditya Rathore: "Can I tell you a secret? Caesar didn’t kill your wife. It was someone else. A beast like you, who’s been killing women with different weapons. But do you know what his favorite weapon is? A screwdriver. Look at this picture."

Guru looked at the photos Aditya handed him. They were brutal, savage. As Guru's eyes scanned the images, a deep rage ignited within him, rekindling a fire that had long been smoldering.

Aditya Rathore: "You're angry, aren’t you? Furious. But just as you didn’t let me take my revenge, I won't let you take yours. Let’s see who wins now—your love or my hatred."

As Aditya left, Guru stood there, his fury a silent storm, ready to unleash his wrath. The city slept, unaware that somewhere in its dark corners, a beast had awakened. And this time, he wouldn't be silenced easily.