Rudra sat in the flickering dimness of Arthur Grey's dining room, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs. He took a deep, steadying breath, trying to ignore the smell of mildew that clung to the air, and reached into the velvet-lined wooden box. His fingers closed around the cold metal of the necklace. He waited for a spark, a surge of heat, or the purple stone to erupt into the brilliant light Arthur had promised.
Ten seconds passed. Then twenty.
Nothing happened. The stone remained a dull, lifeless violet, mocking him in the shadows. An agonizing, awkward silence stretched between the young student and the old man. Rudra cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in the rickety chair.
"Is this thing... broken or something?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.
Arthur didn't answer immediately. He leaned forward, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as he stared at Rudra's hand as if he could force the glow to appear through sheer willpower. Finally, he slumped back, his face clouding with a mixture of confusion and deep-seated disappointment.
"That's weird," Arthur muttered, more to himself than to Rudra. "I was so certain... I was sure you were the one".
He rubbed his weathered face with a trembling hand. "Tell me, kid—are you in any way, shape, or form related to a man named Elwin Revenholt?".
Rudra blinked, the name sounding completely foreign to his ears. "Elwin who? I've never even heard that name before".
Arthur let out a long, heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. The mysterious intensity he had shown earlier vanished, replaced by the weary hollow look of a man who had lost his last bet.
"I see. I must have mistaken you for someone else". He reached into the pocket of his tattered suit and pulled out a thick envelope. He slid it across the moldy table toward Rudra. "You can go now. I don't have any use for you anymore".
Rudra looked at the envelope. He knew it contained the 25,000 rupees—more money than he had ever held at once—but his stomach churned.
"I didn't do the job," he said, his moral code clashing with his desperate need. "I can't take this".
"Just take it, kid," Arthur growled, his voice brooking no argument. "Consider it payment for the trouble".
Rudra hesitated, then slowly pocketed the money. He stood up, the chair legs scraping harshly against the floor, and turned to leave. He was halfway to the rotting front door when Arthur's voice cut through the silence like a whip.
"Stop right there!".
Rudra froze, his hand inches from the door handle. He turned back, expecting another cryptic question, but the man he saw was no longer the bumbling drunk from the school gates. Arthur Grey stood tall, his spine straight and his eyes burning with a terrifying, lethal seriousness.
"Get behind me," Arthur commanded, his voice low and dangerous. Rudra didn't ask questions; the sheer authority in the old man's tone forced him to move.
"You can come out now," Arthur called out to the empty room. "There's no need to hide anymore".
The front door, which Rudra had just been about to open, didn't creak—it exploded inward. From the swirling dust and moonlight emerged a nightmare that defied every video Rudra had ever seen online. It was a humanoid monstrosity standing seven feet tall, its skin covered in jagged, lizard-like scales. A thick, muscular tail lashed behind it, and two obsidian horns curved from its forehead. But the most terrifying feature was the pulsating, rhythmic fire burning along its spine—a flame that gave off a haunting glow but no heat.
Rudra's legs turned to lead. He was trapped in the presence of a predator far more advanced than the ape-creature from the morning.
"For an old geezer like you, your senses are still sharp as ever," the monster hissed.
Rudra's jaw dropped. It talked!?, he thought, his mind reeling. The monster actually spoke!!. In all the legends and news reports, monsters were described as mindless beasts of destruction, but this thing was intelligent. It was mocking them.
"Why are you here?" Arthur asked, his hands settling into a relaxed, yet coiled stance.
"My master gave me a mission to retrieve the stone," the lizard-creature rasped, its yellow eyes fixed on the wooden box. "Give it to me nicely, and I might spare the boy's life".
Arthur didn't flinch. A small, cold smile touched his lips.
"Make me if you can".
The monster didn't respond with words. It blurred. In a burst of speed that Rudra's eyes couldn't even track, the creature was suddenly in front of Arthur, a clawed fist aimed directly at the old man's head.
Rudra closed his eyes, certain he was about to die. In those fleeting seconds, his mind flashed to his father in the garage, Raj's laughing face, and the way Priya had looked in the morning light. He waited for the sound of bone snapping.
Instead, there was a sharp crack of displaced air. Rudra opened his eyes to see Arthur holding the monster's wrist with one hand, his expression completely calm. With a fluid motion, Arthur countered, his movements a masterclass in violence and grace. The two were locked in a high-speed dance of strikes and parries, but Arthur wasn't just holding his own—he was winning. At that moment realise.
"Hey... old man..." Rudra stammered, his terror turning into awe. "Are you... a hero?".
Arthur glanced back, a heroic, youthful glint appearing in his eyes for a split second.
"Hero? Oh yeah, I'm a hero. A retired one, to be exact".
Rudra felt a surge of pure joy. The legends he had worshipped since he was a child sat on a couch with his father were standing right in front of him. But the moment was short-lived. Arthur reached back and snatched the necklace from the table, hurling it at Rudra.
"Take this and get out of here!" Arthur roared, his voice echoing with the power of a commander. "Run as far as you can!".
Rudra caught the necklace, turned, and sprinted into the night. He didn't look back as the sounds of crashing wood and elemental fury erupted behind him. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like they would collapse, finally bursting into his apartment. He tried to tell Raj what had happened—the talking monster, the retired hero, the secret stone—but Raj only laughed, assuming Rudra had followed his lead and had one too many beers. Which very obvious only a fool would belive him.
The next morning, the adrenaline had been replaced by a gnawing sense of dread. Rudra couldn't stay away. He walked back to the outskirts of the city, hoping to find Arthur triumphant, perhaps waiting for him with a sarcastic comment about his running speed.
As he rounded the final corner, his heart sank. The quiet street was filled with the flashing blue and red lights of police cars and the stark white of an ambulance.
Rudra stopped, his breath hitching. He watched from behind a crowd of curious onlookers as two paramedics rolled a gurney out of the dilapidated house. A white sheet was pulled over the body, but Rudra recognized the cream-colored suit sleeve hanging off the side.
Arthur Grey was dead.
*****
Author's Note:
Thank you for reading! I'm officially setting the release schedule to keep the story moving forward:
* Frequency: 2 Chapters per week
* Release Days: Every Wednesday and Sunday
The next chapter will be released on Wednesday, May 8th.
If you're enjoying the journey so far, please add this novel to your Collection and share your thoughts in the comments! Your support helps the story grow and stay visible on the platform.
See you on Wednesday!