Midnight Mist

You know why you're here

The officers dragged Rishabh into the police station, his feet stumbling as they led him toward the interrogation room. His eyes darted around, trying to make sense of what was happening, but the cold grip of fear tightened around his chest. He had been running, but now, it seemed, there was no way out.

Gagan stood by the door of the interrogation room, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His face was impassive, but the tension in the room was palpable. The officers shoved Rishabh into the chair, and he sat down reluctantly, his hands trembling. He was disoriented, his heart racing, but he knew there was no escaping the questions that were about to come.

"Why were you running away from the police, Rishabh?" Gagan’s voice was calm, but it carried an underlying authority that made Rishabh’s stomach drop. "Do you think that would help you? Do you think it will make this go away?"

Rishabh looked down, his eyes avoiding Gagan’s piercing gaze. His mouth went dry, and his thoughts scrambled for an excuse, but no words came. Gagan’s patience was thin, and he didn’t wait for an answer before continuing.

"You know why you’re here," Gagan said, his voice growing sharper. "We know you were close to the victim. We know you knew him well.

Rishabh swallowed hard, trying to compose himself. He had heard that the police had found the body, but it didn’t feel real—until now. The room felt colder, the walls closing in around him as Gagan’s questions hit him like a wave.

"Tell me about your relationship with him. Where were you the night he died?" Gagan continued, his tone unwavering. "Why was your name connected to the scene, and why did you run when we came looking for you?"

Rishabh’s mind raced as he tried to form a coherent answer. He had to be careful. He knew that the truth could get him into more trouble, but lying might make it worse. His hands were shaking, his breath uneven.

"I… I didn’t do anything," Rishabh finally stammered. "I swear, I didn’t kill him. I—I… I just ran because I was scared. I didn't know what you would think of me. I didn’t want to get involved."

Gagan’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in, his gaze intense. "You think running away makes you innocent? You think hiding will make this go away?" His voice dropped to a low growl, laced with disdain. "We know you were close to him. We know you were the last one to see him alive. So stop playing games and start talking. What really happened between you and the victim?"

Rishabh’s mouth went dry again, and he looked down at his hands, avoiding Gagan’s unyielding stare. He could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on him, the pressure of the police’s questioning like a vice tightening around his chest. Every second that passed felt like a lifetime, and the truth seemed to hang in the air, just out of reach.

Rishabh’s voice cracked as he finally spoke, his words tumbling out in a rush, his body tense with the weight of the confession. The silence in the room seemed to stretch, amplifying every heartbeat, every breath.

“We were close friends,” Rishabh began, his eyes avoiding Gagan’s intense gaze. "Abhinav and I... we’ve known each other since childhood. We were like brothers. But things... they changed around six months ago."

He took a deep breath, steadying himself before continuing. “I borrowed thirty thousand rupees from him. I told him I’d pay him back as soon as I could. But, well, you know how it is... life gets in the way. I didn’t have the money. So, every time he asked, I just... kept putting it off.”

Rishabh’s hands fidgeted, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the table as the words left his lips with difficulty. “A month ago, he came to me again. He asked me to return the money, and I told him I’d get it soon. He wasn’t satisfied. He kept pressing me, asking again and again. And then, about ten days ago... he came to me again, right outside my place. He said, ‘It’s enough, Rishabh. Pay me back.’ And I just... I lost it.”

His eyes flickered toward the door, then back at Gagan, his voice quieter now, filled with regret. "I got so frustrated with him. I was having my own problems, you know? I was stressed, I had no way to get the money, and he just wouldn’t stop. I yelled at him... I told him, 'I won’t return a single penny, do whatever you can.'"

Rishabh winced as he remembered the harsh words, the finality of it all. “He didn’t take it well. We fought... it got bad. I didn’t want to see him after that. I didn’t want to talk to him. We stopped meeting, stopped talking. I thought maybe... maybe that would make him stop asking for the money.”

The weight of the admission seemed to hang in the air, and Rishabh sank back into the chair, his shoulders slumped. "We started avoiding each other after that. I didn’t hear from him, and I figured that was the end of it."

His voice faltered, the bitterness of their last words together lingering in his mind. "But now, with everything happening... I didn’t mean for it to go that far. I didn’t kill him, I swear. I just wanted him to leave me alone, but I never wanted this... I didn’t want him to end up dead."

Gagan watched him closely, his gaze unflinching, absorbing every word. The confession, however reluctant, painted a picture of escalating tension, of a friendship deteriorating under the pressure of money and frustration. But there was still much more to uncover.

Gagan’s voice was sharp, his tone demanding an explanation. He leaned forward, “If you’ve done nothing wrong, Rishabh,” Gagan said, his words slow and deliberate, “then why did you run when you saw the police? Why were you so eager to get away from us if you had nothing to hide?”

Rishabh flinched at the question, he swallowed hard, his throat dry as he struggled to find the right words. “I... I didn’t run because I killed him," he stammered, his voice cracking slightly. "I ran because I didn’t want to get caught up in this. You know, with everything happening, I... I panicked.”

Rishabh’s hands trembled as he spoke, his knuckles white from gripping the edge of the chair. “I thought... I thought you were coming after me for the money. I thought you were coming to arrest me over that stupid fight we had. I was scared. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

He paused, his breathing a bit more erratic now, his guilt apparent. “I know it looks bad, I know it probably makes me look guilty, but I swear I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Abhinav. I didn’t want him dead. I never wanted that.”

His gaze met Gagan’s, a mixture of fear and frustration in his eyes. “I just... I didn’t want to get in trouble for something that was already spiraling out of control.”

As Gagan continued his interrogation, a police staff member walked into the room, holding a folder with a printout of the CCTV footage. Gagan glanced up, his eyes briefly meeting the officer’s, before he took the file with a quick nod.

"Here’s the footage from the day of the murder," the officer said, handing it over.

Gagan opened the file and immediately began viewing the footage on his computer. His eyes narrowed as he watched the grainy video feed.

There, in the middle of the frame, was Rishabh.The footage clearly showed him walking along a path near the school. Rishabh was heading towards the side entrance of the school, His demeanor was hurried, almost as if he was trying to avoid being seen