Kiaan

******

There was a king, feared and respected by many, loved and worshiped by his wife. His wife, the Queen, a woman with a kind heart, was fully devoted to him. They had two little princesses, whom they loved dearly. The King and his family lived their lives happily and blissfully. But there was a slight problem in the said fairy tale: the King's friend. The one the King respected a little too much, willing to do anything for his sake, and the person responsible for putting a dent into the sturdy, beautiful castle and blissful life of the King.

The King's friend got into business with a monster. He enjoyed the thrill of evil deeds, but then one day, he started questioning his own actions. Realizing the difference between good and evil, and morality and immorality, he knocked on the King's door, begging for his help to pull him out of darkness. The King, for his friendship's sake, joined hands with him to put the monster to rest, not realizing they were not dealing with one, but a clan who brought havoc into the King's life. The group of monsters killed the beloved queen, leaving the princesses orphaned.

The friend was remorseful for what happened to the King's family and created an organization with the help of the King. There was simply one goal of the organization: to torment and bring down all the monsters. The organization recruited members for this task, trained them, and made them efficient enough to face the monsters.

This was the excerpt of a fairy tale everybody knew, the glowing, inspiring story they believe it to be.

But was it ever simple like that?

The monsters were to be blamed, no doubt, but was the King a saint?

What about the friend who started it all? Wasn't his desire for something evil a reason for the destruction, too?

The tale might have been a fairy tale to a lot with somewhat a bittersweet ending, but in reality, it was the beginning of the creation of a black hole, one that would consume everyone if the King did not stop.

If anyone is to be blamed the most for the beginning of this chaos, it was the King—his inefficiency; him prioritizing someone else over someone significant, his lack of decision-making. If the King had not prioritized his friend, who chose evil over his friendship once, and instead made his wife, for whom he was a God, his priority, she would still be alive. The princesses would not have to live a motherless life, would not have to crave their mother's presence.

Everyone would have thought that now no one could touch the King's family, now that he runs such a powerful organization against those monsters. But as the King evolved, so did the monsters. They eventually caught up to the princesses, destroying their lives too. The elder princess died along with her husband, leaving their twins orphaned. The younger princess met with another cruel fate not many people know about. The burden of the monsters' deeds and the King's arrogance and negligence were now on the shoulders of the kids of the princesses—the twins of the first one and the son of the second.

The King did not stop there, though. He did not know how to stop because he never intended to. But this was the time for a change in power dynamics. It was time for the King to be dethroned and someone else to claim the throne, someone who had felt the burn of both the monsters' sins and the King's arrogance. He had seen it all, and who was a better candidate than the one who knows how both the monsters and the King process? It was the one who lived all his life in camouflage, the damaged, deranged beast, son of the second princess.

ME.

******

My Bluetooth earpiece read the message I received from another ace. It was to notify me that they had all already reached where they should have been. It was time I went there too. I was part of a 5-Ace group, which was part of an organization created to hunt down any threat to humankind: the monsters of our world, underworld dons, and mafias. The five members were me, my cousin Dhruv, my friends Arjun, Hredhaan, and Namit, who was my brother-in-law too. He was married to my cousin Dhriti. We had been part of this organization since the time when others were growing up, enjoying their youths. While others had girlfriends, we had guns by our side. When the others went to parties, we went out to hunt. All five of us had a distinctive goal in our heads when we joined the organization. While some found our way to peace in this chaotic world, the love of their lives, some of us sought their serenity in blood, hunt, and vengeance altogether.

I drove my car to the destination, covering the distance of twenty-five minutes in ten. It was a drug storage of an infamous cartel we had received information about from one of my sources planted in the dark world by me. We had been trying to uproot this cartel for months and finally received some reliable info. This was our chance to break into this cartel's crime world and pluck them all out, just like we had done to others. Only four of us were on the mission. Arjun was out of the city for a criminal case he was working on.

We all had regular jobs aside from our secret identity of being the aces. No one knew of an organization existing that worked against the underworld monsters, except for a few cops and some government elites.

I reached the gas station, which was closer to the warehouse. Before coming here, I had scanned every route to the place, every way in and way out. The warehouse had three doors on the original map, which I had blackmailed someone to provide me with. However, the map was burnt in one corner. Though I could not analyze the entire map, I had a feeling it had another entry point too.

I scanned the area around while still sitting in my car. There was a convenience store near the gas station. The store was not guarded, but I had to be alert. I got out of my car, scanning around the place, not feeling any other presence, and walked in. Once the gate opened, the cashier looked up from his phone. He looked shady at first glance, his eyes inspecting me from top to bottom. Surely confused about what somebody like me was doing at a place like this, his eyes remained on me for a bit longer than expected. It was time for another camouflage. I gave him a polite smile of a businessman before heading to the section of eatables.

"What's the business for you rich people here?" I heard him ask.

I picked up a packet of wafers as I replied, "Just grabbing essentials. Wife's waiting in the car. You know how cranky ladies can be when left hungry."

There was a refrigerator with canned drinks, and the side panel of it showed me the reflection of the cashier. I saw him giving a glance out, trying to confirm if there was in the car, but surely could not with the not-so-transparent glass. My hands would be covered in blood for sure, but whether it was early or later was only to be determined by the cashier's action. And he seemed too eager to die first.

I picked up the newspaper from the shelf. It was an old newspaper, and every newspaper had old dates. The gas station and store were a camouflage. And who would notice it better than the king of camouflages—me.

"Where are the chocolate bars? She loves them while traveling." I put the newspaper back and turned to him, smiling.

"There." He pointed at the nearest open window, where there was a broken aisle shelf with only a few chocolates. I walked to the section, pretending I was buying the chocolates, which I doubted were all expired, while I stared out the window at the standing, abandoned warehouse. The previously burnt building seemed somewhat alive now. The one-story dead building had living people inside. Though I could see no one's silhouette or shadow, yet I knew there were people in it for various reasons. First and foremost, the building with three entrances was guarded. At the main entrance, there was a goon portraying himself as a security guard, while at the other two entrances, beggars, like homeless people, were present, almost lying like lifeless bodies.

"Hey, mate, you need something else?" His voice had come up close, and I heard the sound of bullets loading inside a gun.

Oh, how much I love that melody!

But only if it came from my gun.

The cashier had figured out I was not what I portrayed myself to be. But he did not know that I was somebody he did not need to mess with at all.

The cashier was conceited; I figured at first glance. He liked showing off, as per my observation, and he wanted to show his power to me, so there was no way he was going to shoot me from behind.

In short, I knew he was stupid.

I kept the chocolates back on the shelf and turned around. My composure remained cool because everything for me was under control. But the same couldn't be said for the other guy. He was struggling to keep his cool and appeared threatened. He was aiming his gun at me now.

"Who are you?"

All I could notice was his failed attempt to intimidate me. He shouldn't have aimed his weapon at me because that never ended well for anyone who tried.

"Oh, you shouldn't have done that."

Beasts do not like threats of any kind, and he just triggered something he absolutely shouldn't have. I had an easy death planned for him, but I guess it was time to send him to literal hell—not before he saw my hell first.

******

I handled the cashier well. There was no blood dripping anywhere on the floor, yet he was suffering. He was still breathing, tormented, but soon everything would stop living. I went on to check the sitting area of the cashier. When I walked to his chair I felt my floor getting changed. I looked down to realize I stepped on a carpet lay there instead of the wooden surface like the entire store. That made me cautious. As I stepped off the carpet the wood surface underneath it squeaked. I tapped the surface with my foot, it sounded hollow. I shoved the carpet and noticed an iron handle on the floor. It was obvious there was something in there, maybe ammunition, drugs, it could be anything. To my astonishment, I pulled the handle, and the square wooden surface was pulled up with that, I found a secret passageway with rusty stairs leading down.

I took the stairs to reach the base, and the lights around me turned on. They worked on sensors. It didn't take much to guess where the pathway led. It was a straight route to the warehouse. Perhaps that's how they were transporting drugs there and likely storing them in the basement of the warehouse. That was the stupidest move in history. But I didn't waste time dwelling on it.

I gave a voice command to my earpiece, and it instantly made a call to Namit. I knew he and the other were all together as per our plan. I was the one to access and scrutinize the area before they joined me. They were not far from that warehouse, only a few blocks away.

Post making sure everything was fine I was supposed to go inside the warehouse with the boys using the first entrance. Who knew underground would be an option too?

As soon as Namit picked up the call, I informed him about my status and asked about the others.

Kiaan: "I am almost in the warehouse already. What about you all? Equipped and ready?"

Namit: "Yes. What do you mean by almost in? You were supposed to go with Hredaan. Are you sure that's safe?"

Kiaan: "I am fine. Let's go disrupt the life of another motherfucker."

I cut the call then. There was no time to waste. Sure, he had questions, but he did not pester me, nor did I entertain his queries. We both knew well the significance of time.

I waited for Hredhaan's action before making my way to the path in front of me. Hredhaan had to create a distraction at the main entrance with an explosion, which would eventually make it easy for Dhruv and Namit to use the second and third entrances to get in after some of the goons go to inspect the disruption. I was to use the first entrance, but plans changed because the underground was also an option. I did not want to leave anything unraveled.

A few seconds later, the sound of an explosion came. I heard rageful yelling and curse-filled shouting from men, and I proceeded further carefully. There was a rush upstairs, too much thumping of footsteps because of all the running. Once I reached the end of the tunnel-like route, I stopped. I was sure somebody would have been gilding the basement, but I was surprised that why no one had come to check why the lights were turning on. Since it was all sensor-dependent, it surely would not have gone unnoticed. But then I heard a gruff voice.

"The shipment came already? Wasn't it supposed to arrive tomorrow?" A pillar separated me from the source of the voice. I realized an expected shipment was the reason for him not being surprised by the light turning on, and that it was actually a route from which they transported drugs to the warehouse.

When I peeked a little, I got a clear view of a man standing like a robot, guarding the basement door that would lead me inside the warehouse. He looked insanely unaffected by the explosion outside even when I was sure he would have heard it, in fact, much clearer than me.

One would think the explosion would have distracted everyone, but not this guy.

"You should have checked up on who is visiting you," I said, making him alert.

My reflexes worked faster than my brain, and before anyone could notice, his body fell with a thud when I pulled the trigger of my gun. It had taken me a second from uttering words to killing him while he did not get a chance to fight. The chaos was enough of a distraction for the others upstairs, so I knew they wouldn't come down hearing the sound of his muscular body touching the floor. Besides, my gun had a silencer, so no one could hear that either. Alertly, I opened the gate the man was guarding, and then there were stairs again. I could not understand the point of creating a basement passageway for the drug transfer, because they could have easily directed that through the roads to the warehouse. It was not a road that ever saw cops patrolling there. The abandoned warehouse was in an abandoned locality from where intercity traffic passed sometimes, only if the other routes were blocked. So there was no way for them to create a basement passage. Something felt off about everything. But I put that thought aside for a moment, focusing on the task at hand.

I stepped inside the warehouse, and there were no henchmen or goons. I heard scuffling coming from the top floor and then noticed another staircase that would directly lead me there. I could see Namit and Dhruv punching a goon from my peripheral vision and I decided to go for the first floor. As soon as I made my way to the staircase, I was grabbed in a headlock from behind. A strong arm was applying pressure on my neck. My gun fell from my hand. Pulling out the gutting knife from my back pocket, I stabbed him in his lower abdomen, causing his hold to loosen and he cried in pain. Blood spilled out of his mouth, and without waiting for him to act, I pulled the knife and stabbed him again, this time twisting it deeper. Blood dripped in force, spilling everywhere, red spreading all around as if someone were preparing for a bloodbath. If I had time, I would have skinned him alive, pulled out his skin, and replaced the window glass with his skin. But I was in a time crunch.

"If I had time, I would have spilled your guts out with you still being alive and made you watch. Too bad you don't get to taste the poison of your deeds." I pulled the knife and pushed it inside him again. This time, nothing came out—no yelp, no scream—except that his mouth was left open, and his soul left his body. Kicking his body, I headed upstairs, where the other aces had still not been able to infiltrate. There were still three or four minutes for us to handle everything inside. If we were not finished by then, we would be joined by Hredhaan, who was making sure the main entrance was open for our exit and handling whoever ran out after the explosion.

Once I reached upstairs, there was nothing but a large space with three men and six to seven huge shipping crates, most certainly containing drugs. Two of them were holding a shipping crate together, standing near a window, trying to throw it out.

"Put it down."

The two holding the box looked at me panicked while the third one standing a little far away, looked agitated and furious.

"You bloody guys messed with the wrong man. You may still be alive tonight, but tomorrow all of your bodies will be hung upside down on top of your own houses, while your heads will be served to your families as souvenirs," he said to me before ordering the other two holding the box, "Throw the goddamn box. Now."

Pulling out the knife tucked in my belt behind me, without making it too obvious, I threw it straight. The knife stuck inside the skull of the goon who just dared to threaten me and his body dropped down creating a loud noise. He struggled to breathe, the sound of his choked breath echoed, and he kept thrashing his legs, suffering until he was no longer alive to do any of that shit.

"Now, what was I saying?" I asked the other two as I walked to the dead body. I bent down and pulled the knife out of his skull.

"You will die. You don't want to mess with him," one of the two yelled at me angrily.

I hated how much they were making me repeat myself. The other one, who looked scared, caved and let go of the box, causing it to fall on the floor inside. He probably thought he'd get a chance to flee. Rookie mistake.

The one who yelled at me pulled out his gun, and I ducked before he started firing. I hid behind another shipping box, pulled out my gun, and aimed at his leg. The first bullet I fired hit his foot, causing him to scream in agony and collapse to the floor. He appeared to be unable to bear the pain. The next two bullets hit his knee and then his arm. The last one was a perfect shot, tearing straight through his heart. It took four bullets to end that asshole's life and to scare the living hell out of the other one. The scared guy looked like he might shit in his pants any second, the way he was sitting on the floor, tears streaming down his face as he scooted backward. I decided to keep him. The beast in me felt content at the thought of having a new target to torment. Moreover, he did not seem like a guy of the underworld. It appeared, as though, a conventional goon in need struck a deal with a mafia, unaware of the consequences.

"Let me go. I will... I will tell you everything," he stammered. 

"Of course, you will," I said with conviction, picking up a twist tie lying nearby. As soon as I reached him, I punched him, knocked him out, tied his hands with the same twist tie, and then turned my attention to the boxes.

I opened the first shipment box and found four or five small packets of drugs in it. The boxes were designed oddly. Normally, there's a good amount of space between the top and bottom of a shipment box, but these had such a shallow bottom that they could only hold a few packets. I checked the other boxes and found the same structure. The feeling that something was off turned into a certainty. If needed, I was prepared to burn the place down to uncover whatever else was hidden.

I heard footsteps and aimed my gun at the sound, only to find Hredhaan walking toward me. He looked unperturbed, clearly indicating that things downstairs had been handled.

"You've got it covered, it seems," he said, giving a nonchalant glance at the two corpses and an unconscious.

"Yeah," I replied.

The scene already looked like a fight between two groups which caused that much bloodiness and chaos, so it was fine for us to call the cops. But before that, we needed to inspect every box. Each box, with its odd structure, contained only four or five packets of drugs and was inexplicably heavy. No one, stupid or not, would ever use such boxes for shipment. There was something we hadn't found yet.

Hredhaan and I descended the stairs, dragging my hostage along with me.

Namit and Dhruv had already checked all the boxes on the ground floor. Namit held a drug packet in his gloved hand, raising it as he gave us all a confounded yet suspicious look.

"We were here for these?" he asked.

"Perhaps it's just some thugs, and Kiaan got the wrong intel," Dhruv said as he inspected the other boxes, making sure we hadn't missed anything.

"But that's the thing—Kiaan never gets the wrong intel," Hredhaan added.

That was true. Every one of them had received bad intel at least once in their lives, but not me. My sources had never given me unreliable information. They didn't dare to. They knew the consequences with me were dire—they had seen the repercussions unfold right before their eyes.

Surely, we were missing something. I told the boys about the basement route and how there had been nothing there. Dhruv went to check the basement again with Hredhaan, while Namit and I stayed behind, scrutinizing everything—walls, floors, whatever was in our sight.

Hredhaan and Dhruv returned soon though, informing us that everything was clear. None of us understood the point of a basement route or the use of those unusual boxes.

"I guess it's time I call Jai," Namit said, pulling out his phone to make a call to our cop friend who knew about us being aces. Jai would lie to his department about the supposed fight between two drug mafias, and the rest would be handled by them. Namit was about to dial when he suddenly asked, "Did you guys hear anything?"

"Hear what?" Dhruv asked, looking around. The sound now reached me too. The boys continued discussing it and because of that the mewling noise started to quiet down.

"Wait! Just stay quiet," I told them. Our ears perked up, alert for any sound, and we were ready with our weapons to take on anyone who might enter from any direction.

This time, when I heard the sound, it was louder and closer. My eyes landed on one of the drug shipment boxes. Taking quiet steps, I moved closer; the boys following me.

The sound was coming from the box.

I put back my gun, pulled the lid off the box, and removed the drug packets. I tapped on the surface of the bottom of the box three times.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The box tapped back, exactly three times.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Someone was inside the box. The mewling turned to a sniffled cry now, shocking us all.

Hurriedly, I pulled the wooden plank off the surface on which the drugs were kept, which was easily removable, only to be left speechless. A little girl, not more than three or four years of age, wearing a white frock, covered in mud, was staring right at me with the fear I generally thrive on. Her eyes doubled in fear, her lips chapped, and tears stuck to her face. But her fear did not feed the beast; it chained him, strangled him, hurt him. The past flashed right in front of my eyes, and the beast inside of me scooted far, quieting down.

Hredhaan shook me to get me out of my composure, and we began tearing apart the other boxes. All boxes had a kid inside, but they all were unconscious. Surely, they were given some kind of drug, and the first girl's drug wore off, making her gain her consciousness back.

We were never after a drug cartel at all but a child trafficking case. This was a lot of mess altogether. A mess I never thought I would be facing early on.

"I am calling the NGO," Namit said as he made the call to Dhruv's mother's NGO, which was created specifically for rescued children and women from the clutches of the dark world.

"I am informing Jai and calling an ambulance," Hredhaan said before he made the call to Jai.

"Hey..." Dhruv called softly to the little girl. His smile caused the little girl to stop sniffing. If anyone could handle the little kid out of us, it was him. Besides, his wife, my other favorite person, was a victim too, and my brother pulled her out of her darkness, spreading light around her life, as others would say. But I had seen him coming out of his darkness because of her. So it was two to tango.

But me? I was the last person a kid needed by their side. I was no saint. Not even after saving these kids would I consider myself a good man. Leave good, I was no man.

I needed to drag the body of the hostage to my car and we all had to leave before the cops came. We were not supposed to come into their sight, so I scanned around again, leaving no space for any mistake, making sure we had covered everything, not leaving any spot unchecked. Suddenly something on the lid of one of the boxes caught my attention. I crouched down, inspecting the torn lid on the floor cautiously. 

Something blurry was printed on it, only on the lid of one box. It appeared someone had tried to rub it off but failed.

Two initials.

M.P.

A single colour used for its print.

Red.

A logo at the bottom of the initials.

Rose.

And one terrible realization. 

I knew what the acronym was for. I knew what it meant. The vilest of monsters, who supposedly was dead to all was back. The real evil was back from its cave, the same cave I had been trying to find. No one believed it existed anymore but I knew it did.

Marco Polo.