Chapter 16: The Parasite and the Trap

The girl he had kicked outside, fueled by a dying spark of defiance, had spent her last hours clawing at the wheel of his Jeep. With bleeding fingernails and a metal rod, she had loosened the lug nuts on the tire.

The Killer didn't notice. He was already bored. He needed a new "toy."

He drove toward the city, the uneven road slowly vibrating the loose screw free. He reached the coast and saw her: Priya. She was pushing a stalled scooty, her hair windswept, looking like a perfect, fragile pearl.

He followed her like a tiger stalking a wounded deer. He waited for the perfect moment—a lonely stretch of road with no signal. Then, he struck.

The Transfer

We know what happened next. The struggle in the Jeep. The plunge into the ravine. The crash that turned the Jeep into a metal coffin.

As the Killer lay dying, his blood dripping into Priya's eyes, he felt a strange sensation. He wasn't afraid of death; he was angry that his "work" wasn't finished. In those final, agonizing seconds, his malice—his very essence—didn't evaporate. It sought a bridge.

When Priya’s heart stopped, it was the Killer’s darkness that jump-started it. He became a passenger in her mind, a dormant virus waiting for the body to weaken.

The Afternoon of the Massacre

Back in the college corridor, Katthi leaned closer to Malini. "You think this massacre was a mistake? A sudden burst of madness?"

Malini stared at him, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"No," Katthi hissed. "Priya didn't just 'snap.' She planted the seeds weeks ago. She’s the one who arranged the 'holiday' for the younger students. She’s the one who lured the seniors to the third floor. She built the trap, Malini. I’m just the one who helps her clear the trash."

He stood up straight, his shadow engulfing the little girl.

"The sister you loved died in that Jeep months ago. The thing upstairs? That’s something else entirely. And it’s time for you to meet the real her."

The "Secret Number" on the phone wasn't a stalker. it was the trigger. And as the screams from the third floor reached a fever pitch, the world finally learned that the most beautiful faces often hide the most hideous hungers.