Chapter 14: The Birth of the New Killer

Karthi reached down to grab Priya’s hair, intent on dragging her back to his car. "Answer me! Will you be my good little girl now?"

Priya didn't scream. She didn't cry. Slowly, she stood up. Her hair fell over her face, obscuring her eyes. A thin, dark stream of blood leaked from her nose—the sign of the mental pressure cooker finally exploding.

"Answer me!" Karthi roared, raising his hand again.

Priya’s hand shot out. It wasn't the frantic grab of a girl; it was the precise, crushing grip of a predator. She caught Karthi by the throat.

Karthi’s eyes bulged. He tried to pull her hand away, but it was like trying to break a steel vice. "Vadhalevey! (Let go!)" he wheezed.

Priya looked into his eyes. There was no Priya left in those pupils. There was only a cold, mechanical void. A creepy, wide-eyed smile spread across her face—a smile that belonged to the man who died in the Jeep.

She began to punch.

The first blow shattered Karthi’s nose. The second crushed his cheekbone. She didn't stop. She hit him again and again, the sound of her fist meeting his face echoing across the empty beach like a drum.

Thud. Crack. Squish.

Karthi stopped struggling. His arms fell limp. His heart stopped beating. But the thing wearing Priya’s skin didn't care. She continued to pulverize what was left of his face, enjoying the wet, rhythmic sound of it.

The transformation was complete. The victim was gone. The Butcher had returned.

The Final Hunt: Women's College

The Day of the Massacre

While the third floor ran red with the blood of the exam students, the second floor was a tomb of silence.

Malini was huddled beneath a laboratory bench, her small hands clamped over her mouth. She could hear the heavy, rhythmic footsteps of Katthi—the Butcher’s accomplice—moving through the room.

"Malini... my little gold..." Katthi’s voice was a sandpaper rasp. "Come out. I promised your sister I’d bring you to her. We’re going to be a family forever."

He kicked over a desk, the metal screeching against the floor. Malini shook, her tears wetting her palms. She thought of her father, her mother, the cotton candy at the exhibition. It all felt like a dream from a thousand years ago.

Katthi reached her row. With a grunt of effort, he seized the heavy wooden bench she was hiding under and tossed it aside like a toy.

Malini looked up. Katthi stood over her, his suit stained with the blood of her teachers, his butcher knife gleaming in the moonlight. He leaned down, his ugly, pitted face stretching into a horrific grin.

"Found you."

The question remained: Was Priya being controlled, or had she become the architect of this nightmare? The trap wasn't just for the girls of the college—it was for everyone Priya had ever loved.

The massacre wasn't an ending. It was a beginning.