Beneath the Surface

Chapter 4: Shadows of the Past

Raju’s life had settled into a rhythm that, at one point, he never thought was possible. At 32, he had built a family and a home, far from the grey areas of his past. Every morning, he woke before the sun, slipping quietly out of bed to avoid disturbing his wife, Nandini. She worked long hours as a sales executive at a local automobile showroom, and he respected how much effort she put in for their family. They were a team—something Raju never imagined he could be part of.

As he dressed for work in the kitchen of a bustling restaurant downtown, he heard the soft sound of tiny feet padding across the wooden floor. He turned to see his son, little Aryan, peeking through the bedroom door, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Appa, are you going to make pancakes today?” Aryan asked, his face lighting up with the possibility of extra breakfast time.

Raju grinned. “If you can keep a secret and help me, I’ll make you the best pancakes in town.”

Aryan’s eyes widened, and he rushed into the kitchen, eager to grab the whisk. Father and son worked together, sharing a moment of quiet joy before the day truly began. Aryan was the center of Raju’s world, his reason for everything. The little boy’s energy and laughter had a way of filling the once-empty spaces inside Raju, spaces that had been carved out by years of darkness.

In the living room, his stepdaughter Meera, a teenager from Nandini’s first marriage, sat on the couch scrolling through her phone, earbuds in as usual. She had her mother’s sharp features and independence, but there was a softness to her that Raju had come to appreciate. Their relationship was steady, built on respect, even though they rarely shared much beyond polite conversation. Meera was a quiet, private girl, and Raju respected her boundaries.

Nandini eventually emerged, her hair still wet from the shower, smiling as she caught the scent of pancakes in the air. “Raju, you spoil him,” she teased, kissing Aryan on the head and giving Raju a knowing look. Despite her long days at work, Nandini carried herself with a strength that Raju admired. She was his anchor, the reason he could even dream of having a normal life.

As the family gathered around the table for breakfast, the laughter and easy conversation felt like a warm shield against the outside world—a world that had once consumed him in ways no one else here could ever understand. Raju had long buried those memories, locking them in a place he never allowed himself to revisit. This life, this family, was his redemption, and he wasn’t about to let anything pull him back into the shadows.

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Later, Raju stood at his workstation in the restaurant, expertly flipping sautéed vegetables in a pan, the sizzle and hum of the kitchen around him as familiar as the air he breathed. He was good at his job, respected even. The regulars loved his food, and his colleagues often joked that if he ever left, half the customers would follow him.

It was a busy afternoon rush, but there was a lightness in his step. He had carved out a peaceful existence, working hard and going home to a family he cherished. His colleagues often commented on how lucky he was—how a man who had kept to himself for so long had ended up with such a beautiful family. They didn’t know about the void that once existed in his soul, and Raju preferred it that way. The less they knew, the safer they were.

During his short break, Raju sat in the corner of the kitchen, scrolling through his phone. That’s when he heard it—low murmurs from the other staff gathered around the television near the bar. The news anchor’s voice carried over the clatter of the restaurant.

“Another young girl has gone missing,” the reporter announced grimly. “This is the third in two months. Police say the previous two victims were found brutally murdered, the details too horrific to share on air. Authorities are urging anyone with information to come forward.”

Raju’s heart skipped a beat. Missing girls. The words echoed in his head, sinking into his bones. He kept his eyes on his phone, pretending not to hear, but his mind began to race.

Just then, one of his coworkers, a young waiter named Rajesh, came over and shook his head. “Man, this city’s going to hell. Third girl this month. The police don’t know what the hell they’re doing.”

Raju forced a casual smile. “Yeah, it’s messed up,” he muttered, though his voice sounded distant to his own ears.

The rest of the shift went by in a blur, but the unease stayed with him, growing stronger with each passing hour. By the time his shift ended, he was already feeling the weight of something pulling at him, something dark and familiar.

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That night, after dinner and putting Aryan to bed, Raju sat alone on the couch in the living room. Nandini was already asleep, her exhaustion from the day catching up with her. Meera had locked herself in her room, listening to music and probably talking to friends online. The house was quiet, but inside Raju’s head, the noise was unbearable.

He grabbed his phone again, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, trying to distract himself. Funny reels, cooking tips, a picture of Aryan that Nandini had posted earlier in the day. But then, without warning, a video popped up in his feed that made his stomach drop.

It was a news clip, showing the crime scene where the third girl’s body had been found. Even though the video was blurry, the horror was clear. The body lay in a field, covered by a sheet, surrounded by police and investigators. But it wasn’t just the image that caught Raju’s attention. It was the way they described the murder—the cruelty, the precision.

It was a pattern. One he knew all too well.

Raju’s hands shook, and his phone slipped from his grasp, clattering onto the floor. He felt frozen, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he stared blankly ahead. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears, drowning out everything else.

The past. It was flashing before his eyes—like a film reel playing too fast, blurring the edges of his memory.

No. This couldn’t be happening. Not again.

His mind raced back to a time he had buried deep within himself, a time before he had met Nandini, before he had built this life. It was the time between the group home and now, a period of his life shrouded in mystery even to him. He had locked those years away, knowing they were dangerous, knowing that whatever lay within them was better left forgotten.

But now… it seemed like his past had found him. The cruel murders, the way the girls had been found—it was too close. Too familiar.

Raju stood up abruptly, his chest tight, his breath shallow. He needed air, space to think. He stepped outside, sitting on the small patio chair in the garden. The cold night air hit him, but it didn’t calm the storm raging inside.

As he stared up at the dark sky, trying to steady his breathing, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that something was coming for him. He had built a new life, but the shadows of his past were creeping in, threatening to tear everything apart.

And as much as he tried to push it away, the truth was undeniable.

The monster inside him had never really left.