‘News just in. A large gathering has appeared at city centre. All of them are in masks, shouting in unison. They seemed to be wearing the Lady’s insignia and are saying that they are there to celebrate the return of the Lady in White,’ said the news anchor.

‘There we go. It has already started,’ said the father. He was on the sofa watching news with his son who was busy typing away on the laptop.

‘Everyone in our office is afraid to come out for work now,’ said the son.

‘How long do you think before these people start getting violent and attacking everyone?’

‘I hope never.’

‘It took her to fake her own death to stop the violence, I wonder what she is going to do now?’ the father asked.

***

‘As the number of appearances of the Lady increases, tension within the country continue to rise. People are in constant fear of when people will break out into violence. Groups of people all over the country are already causing hysteria, many say they want to see a revolution but don’t seem to know what they are changing. Will the Lady hold responsibility for her actions?’ asked a news anchor.

Yet another week of constant fear and anxiety. Everyone was anticipating the worst while the troublemakers seem to be biding their time. Monica wondered what they were waiting for. She had been running around as Arora for two weeks, putting down any troublemaker she came across. She wondered if her increase in reach had scared many of them but decided that was not the case. Most of the violence before was concentrated in her own hometown where she used to operate.

She ultimately concluded that it was time. Any movement in people would take time to gather. The Jalwar incident was the spark before that ignited the fire. So, it was only reasonable for people to wait for a cause to rally around. The appearance of Arora might not be enough to trigger the people. This also meant that Monica had the time to work on a solution or multiple solutions to this problem, stopping it before it comes to fruition.

Her time at Karnoor would be coming to an end soon and she felt the need to make a statement soon. Karnoor is an emerging cosmopolitan whose outskirts has been rapidly expanding. A relatively new player in the world of commerce, its population boomed when it became home to the growing IT sector. So, it should come as no surprise that there was plenty of opportunity for hooligans to run around the city to create havoc, especially at night times.

She had always felt that there was a disconnect between her actions and how the public perceived those actions. They saw her as a symbol, a martyr, but that was never her intention. Her inability to provide her alter ego a voice only made things worst. She knew that even a few words of condemnation would have been of some impact, but her voice froze in her throat. The voice of the masses grew louder and louder, drowning out her good will and her actions, until her existence became meaningless.

Things were going to be different this time, or at least that is what Monica had been telling herself. Monica was well aware of the fact that her words might not mean much to those who willingly shut their ears to her. Those, who would much rather not taint their image of the Lady in their minds by accepting the truth. For such people, she had a different medicine.

It was close to midnight and Monica had been holed up in her hotel room all evening. She had been working on making alterations to her other suit, an all-black suit she put together a few months ago. It was made up of a pitch-black full sleeve t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. They were accompanied by a pair of black gloves and black canvas shoes. It was the perfect costume for someone looking to get rich but even she knew how terrible it was as a superhero costume. But now, its purpose had changed. She had used a black monkey cap to conceal her identity. While it served its purpose, it looked terrible, and Monica had no intention of wearing it again. Instead, she pulled out a lengthy piece of black cloth she had purchased a few days ago. She began to cut it down and sew the edges. By the end, she had made herself a night blinder that looked much fancier than one found in stores.

She was hit by a nostalgia looking at the blinder. It reminded her of a time, days before she had herself a purpose-built superhero suit. She had quickly crafted a binder in middle of action. Though it was only time she ever used it, it had a substantial effect on her. Forced to shut of her vision, she had to instead rely on her other senses. This improved her ability to see the unseen by ten-fold. The other reason she was fond of this costume was because it looked intimidating.

Midnight was approaching fast, and Monica was looking to debut her new character the same night. She put aside the blinders and hopped off her bed. Her travel suitcase was tucked into the bottom shelf of the cupboard. Beneath the behemoth case was small hidden compartment which she used to store her alter-ego’s costume. Along with the white textured suit was a pair of black shirt and jeans. Her heart hesitated for a moment, looking at Arora’s costume. But nevertheless, she proceeded to pull out the black costume before locking the case back in the cupboard.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

She felt her heart thumping against her chest but there was no turning back now. She had made up her mind and intended to act now.

***

‘Get a move on Raj! We are already late!’ Prakash whispered as they hurried up a fleet of stairs.

‘It is not my fault. You have no idea how hard it is to get your hands on petrol now,’ Raj replied. He was panting as he carried two giant cans of fuel on either of his shoulders.

‘You should have thought of that before, now hurry up!’ Prakash replied.

‘How are we going to paint the symbol from the terrace anyways?’

‘While you were running around, I got a head start. I laid down some pipes wrapped in cloth. All we got to do is pour the fuel and lit it.’

‘That is genius! Way less work for me.’

‘Whatever,’ Prakash replied.

They burst through the door and onto the empty roof. On the parapet facing the street below was a pipe, sticking inwards. Raj guessed that is where the fuel was supposed to go. He ran over to it immediately and set down the heavy cans before taking a deep breath.

‘Pour the fuel in the pipe,’ Prakash instructed.

‘You do it!’ Raj argued.

‘Shut up and do as I say.’

Raj grunted but didn’t argue further. He reluctantly proceeded to uncap the cans before lifting them up and drowning the fuel into the pipes.

‘Tonight!’ Prakash began in a booming voice, ‘we will let the world know that our saviour is here! And we stand behind her.’

‘Is that what we are doing?’ Raj asked.

‘What you are doing is vandalizing,’ said an unfamiliar voice.

Prakash and Raj froze in their spots. The fuel missed the pipe and began to pour out onto the parapet. Raj was too scared to correct it. Prakash slowly turned around, facing the door through which they came through. Above the door, on the small roof stood a woman covered in black from head to toes. Her hair was pulled back, held in place by a blinder that covered her eyes. She had a wide grin on her face that made his heart shudder.

‘Who the hell are you?’ Prakash asked.

‘Strange. I was about to ask you the same question,’ the stranger replied. She hoped off the roof and slowly walked towards them. ‘Setting fire to a building? Do you want to kill the people living here?’

Raj panicked and dropped the can before turning around and saying, ‘no! We are just making a statement.’

‘And what is that supposed to be?’ she asked. Her deep yet soft voice fit her sinister appearance.

‘That our saviour is back!’ Prakash replied arrogantly.

The stranger moved in, right up to Prakash’s face, sending him tumbling back. ‘Your saviour is a fraudster! And I am here to make sure your fraudster stays permanently silent this time.’

Cold sweat poured down Raj’s forehead as he came to a sudden realization. His eyes widened while his heart rate broke through the roof.

‘And fans like you will know the true meaning of justice,’ she said.

‘There is no way. You were the one who tried to kill her before?’ Raj asked.

Her smile simply widened.

‘Ha! You failed! And you will fail again! You cannot kill our saviour!’ Prakash proclaimed.

‘I killed her once. And I will kill her again,’ the stranger replied.

‘But why would you want to do that?’ Raj asked, his hands shivered.

‘Because the Lady is a pretender and people like you blindly follow her actions. In what world is setting fire to a building, a sign of justice? Killing her will shut up her enablers like you people. Until then, I am going to make sure people like you get that message across to others,’ she said.

Prakash swallowed hard as he watched her walk up to him. Kneeling down, she looked him in the eyes, or that is what it seemed like, and said, ‘tell everyone, the hero killer is here.’

***

The smell of petrol filled the air in the building, sending its occupants into a frenzy. Within a span of few minutes, everyone had evacuated the building and waited for the police to arrive. They looked up to see pipes and cloth stuck to the side of the building.

‘When the hell did, they put that up?’ asked one of the residents.

‘We all were in our homes, right? How did we miss that?’ asked another.

When the police finally arrived, they had the exact same questions. But none had any answers. No one dared to enter the building until a red fire truck finally arrived at the building and began to douse the peculiar structure in water.

The police instructed the residents to stay outside while they began to raid the building.

‘Jay, don’t you think that pipes were made to look like a certain symbol?’ asked Akash, a police officer.

‘It is shabby, but it seems that is what they were trying to make,’ Jay replied.

The two policemen had reached the last floor, looking through the houses to make sure nobody was hiding from them.

‘God dammit. It didn’t even take a week for them to start again,’ Akash said.

‘I am surprised that they took an entire week to start. Things are just going to get worse.’

‘It is not just the mob. Several people, including the police are taking advantage of this situation.’

‘Yeah, I am surprised how one girl has managed to disrupt everyone’s life by just appearing,’ Jay replied.

They swept through the floor and found nothing. ‘Last stop is the terrace,’ Jay said as they began to walk up the fleet of stairs. The door to the terrace was unlocked but that didn’t alert the two policemen. Just as they pushed the door open, someone screamed on top of their voice, ‘help! Help us!’

They found two men sitting next to the parapet on the floor with their hands tied to their backs. One of them continuously screamed at them to help them.

‘Who are you people?’ Jay asked.

‘I am just a servant. A woman, calling herself the hero killer, tried to set the building on fire. We tried to stop her!’ Prakash lied.

‘The hero… what?’ Akash asked.