The heavy ceiling fan hummed a dull rhythm as Officer Rajesh Kumar sat alone in the dusty, dimly lit investigation office. A single tube light flickered above, casting wavering shadows on the cluttered desk in front of him. Files were stacked high, but his attention remained glued to one particular file—Case No. 4725-HYD. It was thick, worn at the edges, marked with red ink: "Multiple Deaths – Under Investigation."
He flipped open the cover again, despite having read it multiple times already.
"Victims: Jai Sharma, Rita Francis, Swathi Rao, Harley Fernandes, Ravi Nath."
Five names. Five lives. Five friends.
All gone.
His brows furrowed. "This isn't random," he muttered. "Someone planned this."
He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath his weight. Outside the window, the city of Hyderabad buzzed with its usual chaotic rhythm—horns honking, dogs barking, distant murmurs of people going about their day. But here, in this little corner of the world, Rajesh was drowning in silence, trying to piece together the last moments of five young souls.
He reached for the first page of the report, which detailed their background. Bright Pen College—one of the top private colleges in the city, known for its tight-knit community and a hostel system that was almost familial. All five victims were second-year degree students. They lived in the same hostel room. Shared everything. From their meals to their secrets.
That was where he had to start.
------
Room 302 of the Bright Pen College Boys' Hostel was chaotic, cramped, and strangely comforting. The small space housed five best friends—young adults on the cusp of life, tethered together by years of shared memories.
Jai Sharma, sitting on the corner bed, had his books open, a highlighter in one hand and his phone in the other. His dark eyes scanned the textbook rapidly, absorbing information like a machine. Neatly dressed in a light grey t-shirt and joggers, he looked calm—but the others knew better. Jai was brilliant. The kind of brilliant that earned him first rank every single year since Class 6. But with that came a short temper and a thick wall of pride.
"Bro," Harley called out, grinning as he tossed a pillow across the room. "Don't die with your books, man! Mid-sem break is coming. We need a plan."
Jai didn't even look up. "Plan your life, Harley. You're failing two subjects."
Harley laughed it off, turning toward Rita, who was lying upside down on Jai's bed, head hanging off the side, scrolling through her phone. Her jeans were ripped, her hair dyed a shade of plum purple that shimmered in the sunlight slipping through the window.
"Let's go somewhere," Rita said suddenly, her voice bright, laced with mischief. "Like Araku or Ooty or even Srisailam! We haven't taken a trip in so long."
"Travel plans need money, Rits," Swathi replied from her desk in the corner, where she was carefully highlighting notes in multiple colors. Her dark hair was pulled into a neat braid, and she wore a simple blue salwar. Her serious tone cut through the playful air like a blade. "And parental permission."
"Oh please, Swathi," Rita whined, rolling her eyes. "You live once. Ask them. They'll agree!"
Swathi looked at her for a long second. "Not everyone gets to live once without consequences."
Jai sighed. "She's right. We need a plan, not just some random impulse trip."
"But I want to go somewhere," Ravi mumbled, almost to himself. He sat near the window, hugging his knees to his chest, visibly uncomfortable. The most timid of the group, Ravi was academically strong—often landing in the top 5 ranks—but socially, he was anxious, cautious, and always afraid of things going wrong.
"Then it's decided!" Harley jumped up, throwing his hands in the air. "We plan. Properly. Destination, budget, dates. Jai will overthink it anyway, so let's give him data."
"I'm not overthinking. I'm being practical," Jai snapped.
"I like practical," Swathi added softly.
Rita stood up, stretched, and then leaned on Jai's shoulder, poking his cheek. "Mr. First Rank, take a break. I need you to kiss me under a waterfall, okay?"
Jai sighed, the corner of his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. "You're impossible."
"And you love it," she replied with a wink.
Even with the teasing, bickering, and constant interruptions, there was love in that room—undeniable, messy, and real. They were more than just roommates. They were family. Friends since middle school, they had stuck together through it all—exams, heartbreaks, fights, celebrations. Their friendship wasn't always smooth, but it was deep.
Rajesh read this part in a handwritten note found in the hostel room during his initial visit. He had gone there three days after the bodies were discovered. The room was already eerily cleaned out by then—beds made, personal items removed, cupboards emptied. But someone—perhaps a grieving parent—had missed this little diary note stuck behind a shelf.
The note had no name. But it read:
> "We've been together since school. Jai with his temper, Rita with her madness, Swathi with her rules, Harley with his trouble, Ravi with his fears—and still, we stay. Maybe that's why it works. We are broken pieces stitched into one another's lives."
He stared at the line for a long moment.
"Why were these kids killed?" he whispered to himself.
There was nothing in the reports to indicate gang involvement, drugs, blackmail, or mental health issues. They were planning a trip—happy, hopeful. Nothing suggested death was even near.
And yet...
The bodies had been found two weeks later, in separate locations across Hyderabad's outskirts—burnt field, abandoned warehouse, an old temple, a lake, and a construction site. Brutal injuries. No single weapon. No signs of struggle at the college. No witnesses. No leads.
Just five lives... gone.
Rajesh closed the file slowly, leaned back, and lit a cigarette, the smoke curling into the stale air.
"Something's off," he whispered.
He had no answers. Not yet.
But he would go back. Back to Bright Pen College. Back to Room 302. Because something began there.
And it had to end there, too.