T.H.I.E.F (Dream High)
An India love action story….
©️ Ifeoma Isabella Silver Ozoemene.
???????? ….People, some will fly beyond the stars. People, some will fall…. ????????
Continuation From the last Episode;
????️ Rohan Pov ????️
But the man didn’t reply, he wasn’t dead yet because his chest was going up and down slowly, so he heard what I was saying.
“But still yet, this pain isn’t enough.” I told him, dropping the two iron rods in my hands to the ground, and held him in both hands and dragged him inside the old hut. One by one, I carried the dead bodies of his goons inside the car they had come with. After that, I brought the gallon of fuel I had already kept inside the hut and poured it around the hut, went outside and poured the fuel around the hut and entered inside, dropping the remaining gallon of fuel beside the man.
I went to where I had tied his daughter and loose the ropes on her and carried her on my left shoulder and took her phone, then came out and lock the door and brought the pack of matches in my pocket, opened it and brought out one stick of matches, I strike it on the body of the matches and throw it at the hut, it caught fire.
I breathed in as the scent of smoke from the raging fire filled the air.
I left the burning hut, picking the rods on the ground and left for my car with Vivian resting comfortably on my shoulder.
When I got to where I parked my car, I opened the back seat and put Vivian there, closed it and entered the driver seat and drove off.
Driving for almost thirty minutes, I stopped at the back of a car, a Mercedes Benz 300 SL, and got down from my own car. I opened the back seat and carried Vivian out of my car and walked to the Mercedes and opened the driver side, then dropped her on the seat and placed her face on the sterling wheels of the car, and closed the car door.
I entered my car and drove towards
Before dawn, Vivian would have woken up by then, she won’t remember a thing.
Somewhere in Punjab City:
I brought out a little remote beside my seat and pressed the green button on it as I turned my car into my building.
The gate automatically opened by itself and I drove into my compound.
I pressed the red button on the remote and the gate automatically closed.
I parked my car between Toyota MR2 and Volkswagen Beetle, I alighted from my car, opened the car boot, took out the cash, closed it and entered the decorated bungalow house.
“Did it go well?” My adopted father, Zama, asked, immediately I stepped into the house. He was in the living room, seated and reading the newspaper.
“Yes Dad.” I replied to him as he stood up from his seat and hugged me. I drop the two bags of money in my hands on the floor and return his hug.
Zama was the man who had saved me twelve years ago. He was the man who had heard my cry for help and came to my rescue in the forest.
He and his wife treated me like their own son and even though they were not that rich enough, they gave me whatever I wanted. They provide all my needs.
I couldn’t keep on lying to them that I had lost my memory, so after six months of living with them, I told them the truth and why I had lied in the first place and why I had gotten my marred skinned.
But I told them, that doesn’t stop them from being my parents since I was an orphan.
“Meera is an evil woman.” My mother had said after I had revealed the truth. “How could she kill the Princess and the King?”
“She poisoned my Aishwarya and Khan burned her to death.” I told my new parents. “I am going to kill them, all of them. They will join my Aishwarya soon.” I added.
Just not to forget those faces involved, I had drawn their faces on the wall of the room I was given. I didn’t draw the five king’s and Meera faces because I would recognize them anywhere and anytime. So I had drawn the faces of the remaining guards who had joined hands in killing my Aishwarya.
I haven’t set my eyes on the boy who had given me a second chance to live ever since that night. I had always waited, hoping he would appear in my dream, but he did not. My agreement with the boy kept ringing in my head everyday and luckily, I am not someone who falls in love.
One year ago, unfortunately, my adoptive mother lost her life. I tried all my possible best to save her but couldn’t. Death won over me and took her away from my hands.
So now, I am only left with my adoptive father. After my mother’s death, I built this bungalow and we left our old place in Punjab.
He released his hold on me as I did to him and he moved back a little to look at the two bags of money.
“I am glad it went well son, I was praying for your safety.” My dad told me, smiling.
And I smiled back at him.
“You have now grown into a handsome young man Rohit.” My dad said.
Did I forget to mention that I told him and my late mother that I would still love to bear Rohit and not my real name.
“Hope you left no mark on him so that they won’t trace his death to you?”
“Good, go and start preparing while I start preparing the money.” He told me and I thanked him as I left for my room.
Once inside, I opened my wardrobe and pushed my clothes to my one to reveal another door which I opened and entered into a smaller room filled with weapons.
There were a lot of computers on one side of the wall which I used in monitoring the whole of India.
At the second wall was my clothes I used for my night work.
On the third wall were my arrows and bow and the fourth wall was the large picture of my Aishwarya smiling face they had used to announce her death years ago.
I quickly removed the clothes I was wearing, making sure not to stare too long on my ugly skin and wear the clothes from the wall, all black.
I put on my mask and grab my bow and arrows, tucking my bow and arrows behind my back before I turn to face the picture and smile back at her. She was beautiful and would have been more beautiful if she had grown.
I left my secret room to my room, put my clothes back in place and left my room to the living room.
My father was waiting in the living room by the time I came out.
The money in the two bags has been removed and wrapped into twenty different small school bags with the amount of twenty million Cores in each of the bags.
I carried ten of the bags and he carried the remaining ten and followed me out of the house to my car.
I opened my car boot and we put the bags inside it and closed the boot, he followed me to the driver side when I opened my car door to sit, keeping my bow and arrows on the empty seat beside me.
“Be careful son” My Dad told me.
“I am always.” I said and drove off.
I parked my car in a hidden corner and came out of it, going to the back boot and bringing out ten bags.
I brought out ten arrows and my bow. Attached to the arrows was a piece of paper and written on it is;
‘From R and A, use the money well.’
I proceed to the twenty homes I had marked in Punjab that are really in need.
Early the next morning, I was awake and going through some files on my table in my room when I heard someone knocking on the gate.
I heard my father going to check on who was knocking on the gate and he returned and came to my room, opening it.
“Son, it’s the police.”
I nodded my head and got up and followed him to the living room to see five policemen seated and when they saw me, they stood up to their feet.
“We have been trying to reach you over the phone since last night.” One of the policemen said.
“Oh, sorry, I haven’t looked at my phone since last night.” I told him which was true. I had come home, had my bath and slept off.
“You must have seen the news on the TV.”
“Not yet, what news?”
“Mr Devara Pathi and his men were killed last night and he set himself on fire in a local town inside a hut.” The same policeman said. “You have to perform an autopsy on that burnt body sir.” He added.
“Okay, you can go. I will be right there.” I told them and they left my house.
May I introduce myself?
I am Doctor Rohit Kumari, MS forensic pathology. Superintendent of Indian.
There are hundreds of hospitals to make even a taxi driver live. But, after he or she dies, even if he is India commissioner or a King, Prince or even Meera…..their corpses have to come to me only.
And as for Devera Pathi, I will be given him a second death.