This story contains fictional depictions of crime and justice. It does not promote violence or vigilante behavior. Reader discretion is advised.
Morning broke with a ruckus.
Inside the cramped hostel corridors, tenants leaned out of their rooms, murmuring and speculating. The landlord—the same man whose smile never quite reached his eyes—was sweating bullets, storming around like a wounded bull. His voice rose in fragmented curses as he barked orders at no one in particular.
Kavir, his hair as wild as ever, stepped out of his room with a yawn. His eyes trailed lazily across the scene, a smile dancing faintly on his lips.
"What's the fuss?" he asked, voice flat yet curious.
The landlord glared at him. "Nothing! Mind your damn business. And do something about that mop on your head. Can't even see your face."
Kavir merely raised an eyebrow and walked past him with a smirk.
Outside, Ratan's car was parked by the gate.
Kavir slid into the backseat where the man who had hired them was already waiting, his eyes twitching nervously.
"Well?" the man asked. "What did you find?"
Kavir rested his head against the window. "Nothing. Just rats fighting each other in the pipes. Coincidence, really."
The man looked embarrassed. "I'm… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dragged you both into this."
He reached into his bag and handed Ratan a crumpled envelope. "Here… 5,000 rupees. I know it's not much but—"
"It's fine," Ratan said, tucking it into the glove box. "Thanks for being honest."
The man nodded and stepped out of the car, quickly disappearing into the maze of alleys.
Ratan started the engine.
"Home?" he asked.
Kavir nodded.
Back at the office, the air was cool, the ceiling fan swinging lazily.
Kavir walked straight to his room, a small white box of packed food in hand. He opened the door softly and stepped inside.
The girl was still asleep, curled up under the blanket. Her breath was shallow, her face twitching as if trapped in a nightmare. Then—she woke with a start, eyes wide with fear, tears already welling up.
Kavir stood there, unmoving.
"Eat," he said, placing the food in front of her.
His voice wasn't warm.
But it wasn't cold either.
It was just… steady.
She wiped her tears and took the food with both hands, sniffling. The room was quiet for a while—just the sound of chewing and the occasional hiccup of emotion.
Ratan entered soon after.
He knelt down by the girl and gently said, "We've contacted your parents. They'll be here soon."
The girl froze.
"No," she whispered. "I can't… I didn't earn anything. I failed. I can't go back like this."
Her voice cracked as more tears flowed.
Ratan sat beside her. "Tell them you tried. That you just didn't find the right opportunity."
"I was supposed to… help them. Get them out of that hellhole. I thought if I could earn just a little…"
She looked at Kavir.
"They'll be ashamed."
Kavir sighed and sat cross-legged on the floor. "Are you educated?"
She nodded slowly. "Till 10th class."
Ratan smiled. "I know someone who needs a full-time waiter. His part-timer drives him mad."
Kavir turned to Ratan. "You're talking about me, old man?"
Ratan grinned.
The girl's lips twitched upward, just slightly.
Evening came, and with it, Kavir's departure.
He packed his things quietly. The landlord hovered outside his room like a pest.
"How long will you be gone?" he asked, a touch too nosy.
Kavir looked up, face unreadable.
"My mother's sick. I'm going back to the village."
The landlord scoffed. "Tch. Alright."
As the man turned to leave, Kavir reached under the bed and pulled out a heavy metal rod.
A single, muffled crack later, the landlord collapsed like a sack of meat.
Kavir opened a large, empty suitcase, folded the man inside, and zipped it shut.
The car ride was silent.
Ratan kept his eyes on the road. Kavir sat beside the suitcase, cleaning his nails with a pocketknife.
Soon, they reached a forest clearing—a secluded man-made pond, abandoned for decades. Surrounded by thick trees and overgrown grass, the pond shimmered like a forgotten mirror under the moonlight.
They dragged the landlord out of the suitcase.
He stirred, groaning.
Then opened his eyes—and froze.
He was tied to a wooden boat in the middle of the pond. His arms and legs were strapped down. His shirt was torn open. Bees buzzed somewhere nearby.
Kavir's face hovered above him, calm, deliberate.
His hair was tied back for once.
"You ever heard of The Persian Honey Torture?" Kavir asked, voice low.
The landlord blinked, confused.
"It's also called Scaphism. Ancient Persia used it for traitors. They'd tie a man in a boat, soak him in milk and honey. Then leave him in the water to be slowly eaten alive by insects, worms, and... other things."
Ratan uncorked a bottle of honey.
Kavir added, "It was used again in Europe. Though they added rats and even snakes sometimes."
He smiled. "We're old-fashioned."
The two men began pouring milk over the landlord's body. Then came the honey. Thick, golden, sticky. It coated his skin, seeping into every cut, every pore.
"Open your mouth," Ratan said.
The landlord tried to scream, but Kavir pinched his nose until he had to breathe. They poured the rest of the milk and honey down his throat, making him choke.
Within minutes, insects began to gather.
Flies, ants, mosquitoes.
A beetle scurried up his cheek.
Then came the rats—dozens of them—drawn to the sweet, dripping scent.
The landlord screamed.
It echoed into the night.
But no one was around to hear it.
No one… except his killers.
Hours passed.
Eventually, the screaming stopped.
His body, now a bloated feast for the swarming pests, was tossed into the back of the car.
They drove to the abandoned house—the same one with the infamous well.
Ratan unlocked the door.
Kavir opened the rusted lid.
The three women inside looked up, eyes wild, lips trembling.
Still alive.
Still cursed to rot in the dark.
Kavir smiled down at them.
"Dinner time," he said, and dropped the landlord's corpse into the pit.
Then came the rest of the honey and milk.
The rats would have no shortage of targets tonight.
Back at the office, the girl was still sleeping on the sofa, curled up with the blanket tucked under her chin. The AC hummed gently, brushing against her face like a lullaby.
Kavir stood at the door, watching her for a moment.
He looked at Ratan and smirked.
"Don't you think too many kids are showing up at our office these days?"
Ratan lit a cigarette.
"It's not the kids," he said. "It's the world that's rotting."
Kavir nodded, the soft smile never leaving his lips.
He sat down beside the sofa, one leg crossed lazily.
The girl stirred awake, blinking.
"We called your parents," Ratan said gently. "They'll be here soon."
For a second, she looked like she didn't believe it.
Then she smiled.
A real one.
She hugged Kavir tightly first, arms wrapping around him like a lifeline. Then she turned and hugged Ratan too.
She didn't cry this time.
This time, she was happy.