The Silent Oath

The night seems to have covered up all the follies of mankind. Officer Arun Singh's footsteps echoed through the deserted streets of downtown Delhi. The air was thick with silence, punctuated only by distant honks and the occasional bark of a stray dog. His eyes scanned the shadows, each step a reminder of the city's hidden dangers.

Fatigue weighed heavily on him. "Just one quiet night," he murmured, longing for a reprieve from the relentless grind. "No incidents, no action. Is that too much to ask?"

As he turned a corner, a dark shape on the pavement caught his attention. "Please, not tonight," he muttered, his heart sinking. Drawing closer, the lifeless body of a man came into view, face pale under the flickering streetlight. Arun's pulse quickened, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Why now? Why me?" he whispered, kneeling beside the body. The man had been stabbed, a dark pool spreading beneath him. Panic surged, but duty held him in place. "You can't just walk away, Arun. Think. What would they say? What would you say?"

He reached for his radio, hands trembling. "Control, this is Officer Singh. I've found a body in Chandni Chowk, near the back alley of the Metro Station. Requesting backup." His voice wavered, but he maintained his composure.

As he waited, he examined the scene, forcing himself to stay alert. In the victim's hand, a crumpled note caught his eye. Unfolding it, his breath caught: "Arun, I trusted you."

The twist hit him hard. The victim was his informant, feeding him crucial tips about the criminal underworld. Guilt gnawed at him, but there was no time for remorse. "I’ll find who did this," he vowed, the weight of the night pressing down on his shoulders.

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