Chapter 1. Punit's Past...

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**The Fateful Night**

The moon was full, casting an eerie glow over the small town of Willow Creek. The air was crisp, with a hint of autumn's chill, as the leaves rustled in the gentle breeze. It was a night like any other, yet it would become etched in the memory of a young boy forever.

Seven-year-old Punit lay fast asleep in his cozy bedroom, surrounded by his favorite toys and books. His parents, Mark and Sarah, had tucked him in just hours before, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead and a reassuring smile. Little did they know, it would be their last goodbye.

In the darkness, a sinister figure lurked outside the Jenkins' residence. A figure with a twisted mind, driven by malice and a thirst for revenge. He had been watching the family for weeks, studying their routine, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

At 2:47 a.m., the figure crept into the house, his footsteps silent on the creaky floorboards. He moved with precision, his eyes fixed on the master bedroom. Mark and Sarah slept peacefully, unaware of the horror that was about to unfold.

The figure's hand closed around the cold metal of a gun, his finger tightening around the trigger. Two shots rang out, piercing the night air. Mark and Sarah's bodies jerked, their eyes snapping open in shock and terror. The figure stood over them, his face twisted in a grotesque grin, as he watched the life drain from their bodies.

Punit, awakened by the shots, sat up in bed, his heart racing. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the confusion. The silence was deafening, punctuated only by the sound of his own ragged breathing. He called out for his parents, but there was no response.

With a sense of trepidation, Punit threw off his covers and padded out of his room. The hallway was dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight like grasping fingers. He approached the master bedroom, his small heart pounding in his chest.

The scene that greeted him was one of unspeakable horror. His parents lay motionless, their bodies twisted in unnatural positions. Punit's eyes widened in shock, his mind struggling to comprehend the carnage before him. He stumbled backward, his legs trembling beneath him.

The figure, still standing in the room, turned to face Punit. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, time stood still. The boy's gaze was frozen on the monster who had destroyed his world. The figure's eyes gleamed with a malevolent intensity, as if savoring the boy's terror.

With a jolt, Punit broke free from the trance-like state. He turned and ran, his small legs pumping furiously as he fled the house. The figure gave chase, his footsteps thundering behind the boy.

Punit burst out into the night, the cool air slapping him in the face. He didn't dare look back, fearing what he might see. He ran down the street, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

The streets of Willow Creek were empty, the only sound being the echo of Punit's footsteps. He didn't know where he was going, only that he had to escape the horror behind him.

As he turned a corner, Punit spotted the lights of the local police station in the distance. With newfound hope, he sprinted toward the building, his legs aching with exhaustion.

He burst through the doors, slamming into the reception desk. The officer on duty, a kind-faced woman named Officer Johnson, looked up in surprise.

"Punit, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Punit's words tumbled out in a frantic jumble. "My parents...they're dead...the man...he killed them...he's coming for me..."

Officer Johnson's expression changed from concern to alarm. She quickly called for backup, her voice firm and authoritative. Within minutes, the station was swarming with officers, all rushing to respond to the emergency.

As they sped to the residence, Punit sat in the back of the police car, his mind reeling with the events of the night. He couldn't shake the image of his parents' lifeless bodies, or the twisted face of the monster who had taken them from him.

The police arrived at the house, their sirens blaring, their lights casting an eerie glow over the scene. Punit watched, numb, as the officers swarmed around the house, their guns drawn.

The killer was captured and Police Officers were 100 % Sure that Killer will be given Death Sentence, leaving behind a trail of destruction and despair. Punit was left alone, a seven-year-old orphan, his world shattered by the brutal hand of fate.

As the night wore on, Punit was taken to a foster home, his small body wracked with sobs. He couldn't understand why this had happened, why his parents had been taken from him. The questions swirled in his mind, tormenting him with their silence.

The days that followed were a blur of tears, questions, and uncertainty. Punit's life was forever changed, his innocence lost in the darkness of that fateful night.

He was left to pick up the pieces, to try and make sense of the senseless, and to find a way to move forward in a world that had been turned upside down.

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"Villain : Conquest".

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