Chapter 9: The Requiem of Wailing Iron

The silence in the women's college was no longer peaceful. It was a heavy, suffocating shroud. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting long, bruised shadows across the empty playgrounds and the hollow corridors. The main door, once a symbol of sanctuary, now stood barred from the inside, its handle smeared with a sickening, tacky crimson.

Wank. Wank. Wank.

The sound was rhythmic, mechanical, and utterly terrifying. It was the sound of metal meeting bone.

In a darkened classroom, the air was thick with the scent of copper and unwashed fear. A group of girls huddled in the corner, their bodies shaking so violently that the floorboards hummed. Among them were Vaani and young Malini.

Every time that wank echoed through the walls, a fresh jolt of electricity shot through Vaani’s spine. Somewhere nearby, the killer was methodically destroying one of their own. The screaming had stopped minutes ago, replaced by a wet, heavy silence that was somehow worse.

Malini, the youngest and most innocent among them—a girl who didn't even belong in this college—looked up at Vaani with wide, glassy eyes. She was trembling, her small hands clutching Vaani’s sleeve.

"Akka..." Malini whispered, her voice barely a thread. "Are they going to kill us just like Rekha-akka?"

The question was a dagger. Vaani looked toward the ceiling. From the rafters, several shapes swayed gently in the draft. They were the "trophies"—the girls who had been caught. Among them hung Rekha. Her vibrant energy was gone, replaced by a stiff, doll-like stillness.

Vaani didn't answer. She couldn't. She simply pulled Malini closer, shielding the girl's eyes with her palm, even as her own tears fell silently, mixing with the literal "drip, drip" of blood falling from the rafters above.