Chapter:5 Training of the Devil
1301 Words
Training of the Devil
Morning light entered the mansion through the windows, but it carried no warmth. It felt cold, like a dead body. Arjun stood near the window. Outside, the trees no longer looked like trees—they felt like silent witnesses, watching in fear.
The mansion was no longer a building of stone and brick. It was a hungry beast, and Arjun stood between its jaws.
His mother stood at the doorway. Her hand was frozen in the air, as if she had already received the answer before knocking. Some distances are so deep that they cannot be measured by sound, only by silence. She turned back without saying a word. Even her footsteps made no noise, as if the mansion had swallowed her too.
Arjun looked into the mirror. The face was his own, but the eyes… the eyes belonged to a stranger. The darkness of the night still lived inside them. He adjusted his collar. Innocence was already dead. Now, even humanity was next.
His phone screen lit up. No name. Just a time and a place.
**“7 p.m. Old slaughterhouse. Lesson begins.”**
Vijay knew Arjun would not ask questions. Because he was no longer a traveler—he was a soldier.
That part of the city where even maps lose their way. The old warehouse looked lifeless from the outside, as if it had not breathed in years. But inside… the air smelled of rusted iron, old sweat, and dried blood mixed together.
Five figures stood inside, wrapped in shadows.
Vijay stood in the center—not like a king, but like a puppeteer holding every string.
“These are not your teachers, Arjun,” Vijay said. “They are pieces of your future.”
He introduced them one by one, as if showing weapons.
The first man stepped forward. A deep scar ran across his neck.
“I will teach you **fear**,” he said in a rough voice. “Respect can be earned, but power comes only from fear.”
The second man was so thin he looked like the wind could break him.
“I will teach you **silence**,” he whispered. “A lion roars, but the snake that kills never makes a sound.”
The third was a woman, her face hard as stone.
“I will teach you **price**,” she said, staring into Arjun’s eyes. “Everything can be sold. If it doesn’t sell, the price was wrong.”
The fourth man laughed, showing yellow, sharp teeth.
“And I will teach you **lies**. Because a sweet lie saves empires better than a bitter truth.”
Arjun stayed silent. His eyes were fixed on Vijay.
Vijay smiled. “And the fifth teacher… is your own conscience. Tonight, you must bury it with your own hands.”
The first test began that same night.
A man was tied to a chair. Fear danced on his face.
“He took our money,” the first teacher said. “The rule says punishment. Vijay wants a decision.”
Arjun walked closer. The man’s eyes begged for mercy.
“Sir… I have children… I made a mistake… please forgive me.”
Arjun picked up the g*n from the table. Looked at it. Then placed it back.
He pulled a chair and sat very close to the man—close enough to feel his shaking.
“Are you afraid of death?” Arjun asked softly.
The man cried. “Yes, sir… very afraid.”
A hollow smile appeared on Arjun’s face. He leaned toward the man’s ear and said,
“Wrong. Death is just one moment of pain. You should be afraid of **living**.”
No shot was fired that night. But when the man walked out of the warehouse… he was already a living corpse. The world was gone from his eyes. Only Arjun’s words remained.
Vijay blew out cigarette smoke and said, “Your hands didn’t shake. Good.”
Time did not pass—it ran.
Arjun learned not to cover himself with fear, but to wear it. Silence became his weapon. Lies became his shield.
The air in the city changed.
From behind the closed doors of the mansion, only one name slipped out—**“Shadow.”**
People whispered, “Vijay has grown old, but his shadow… that one is two steps ahead of the devil.”
Arjun heard it all and ignored it. Fame is for the weak. The powerful only need control.
One evening, Vijay called him to the terrace. Below them, the city lights burned like a forest on fire.
“You have changed,” Vijay said, patting his back.
“No,” Arjun replied coldly. “I can just see clearly now.”
“Not yet,” Vijay said, a strange light in his eyes. “The final curtain is still waiting to fall.”
“What is it?”
Vijay pointed toward the courtyard below. His mother sat there. Alone.
Arjun’s fingers tightened into a fist.
“Calm down,” Vijay said. “I am not asking you to kill her. I just want her to recognize you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tell her the truth. Everything. Then let her choose… her son, or her principles.”
That night, the mansion hall turned into a courtroom.
Arjun told her everything. Every crime. Every deal. The blood that was not on his hands, but on his soul.
His mother listened like a stone statue. When Arjun stopped, the silence became so heavy that breathing felt difficult.
She looked into his eyes for a long time, as if searching for the child who once feared the dark.
“Are you my Arjun?” she asked. Her voice was dry, not broken. “Or have you become what he wanted?”
Arjun did not look away. “I am what this mansion needs.”
She took a deep breath. “If this truth comes out, you will be destroyed.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Arjun asked.
“Then you will no longer be human.”
Arjun stood up. His shadow on the wall looked larger than him.
“The price of staying human is too high, Mother,” he said. “And my pockets are empty now.”
She did not cry. Tears are for the weak. She only said,
“Then remember this—when you look into the mirror, don’t meet my eyes. Because there you will not see my son… you will see your own killer.”
She walked away. Arjun remained standing. Alone—but strong.
Vijay stepped out from behind the curtain, clapping.
“Brilliant. Now you are ready.”
“For what?” Arjun asked.
Vijay’s smile was the most dangerous one yet.
“For the real game. Until now, you fought pawns. Now, the king will die.”
“Which king?”
Vijay pointed at his own chest.
“Me.”
Arjun froze.
“Every story needs an ending, Arjun,” Vijay said. “I am getting old. I will not die quietly in a bed. I want my end at the hands of my greatest creation.”
He looked straight into Arjun’s eyes.
“Killing me… will be your final lesson.”
The city slept below, unaware. But on the mansion’s roof, a new sun was about to rise—a black sun.
Arjun reached into his pocket. The old coin Vijay had given him now felt warm between his fingers.
He looked up at the sky and tossed the coin into the a
ir.
“If this is my inheritance…”
The coin turned. Head or tail—it didn’t matter.
Arjun caught it in his fist.
“…then this game will end on my terms.”
- Writer
