The hotel room was silent, wrapped in the thick stillness of midnight. Outside, Sathankulam slept under a pale moon, its streets empty, its shadows long and unmoving. Inside, the slow rhythm of breathing filled the room — except for one corner, where a faint glow pulsed softly in the darkness.
Aljasheem stirred in his sleep, disturbed by the low hum of a laptop fan. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the sudden light. At the far end of the room, Shiva sat cross-legged on the bed, headphones resting loosely around his neck, his eyes locked onto the screen. Lines of animation frames moved across the display, characters taking shape, scenes unfolding frame by frame. His fingers worked quickly, confidently, as if the silence itself was bending to his will.
Aljasheem lifted himself on one elbow and whispered, "Shiva… what are you doing at this hour?"
Shiva flinched slightly, then turned back with a sheepish smile. "Rendering. Just finished a scene."
"At midnight?"
Shiva shrugged lightly. "This is when my head works best."
He rotated the laptop slightly, revealing a rough animated sequence — raw, unpolished, but full of intent. Motion. Emotion. Story. Something alive was being born on that screen.
"I'm making my own short film," Shiva said quietly, pride flickering in his eyes.
Aljasheem studied the animation for a moment, then glanced at Shiva. "Show me the script."
Without a word, Shiva reached into his bag and pulled out a thick, worn notebook. The edges were bent, the pages filled with tight handwriting, crossed lines, sketches, and story notes. He handed it over silently.
As Aljasheem began reading, Shiva slid his headphones back on, opened another window, and launched DOOM (2016). The dark metallic menu music filled his ears as demons flickered across the loading screen. He leaned forward, controller in hand, fully focused.
Minutes passed.
Aljasheem looked up, his expression slowly shifting from curiosity to genuine admiration. "You wrote all this?"
Shiva nodded without looking away from the screen, blasting through the first wave of demons. "Yeah."
"You know," Aljasheem said thoughtfully, "if you keep this up… you can actually become a director."
A demon lunged.
Shiva crushed it.
"I don't want to be a director," he replied calmly.
"Then what do you want?"
Shiva hesitated.
Then, quietly, he said, "I just want people to be proud of me."
Aljasheem remained silent, letting him continue.
"In college, everyone sees me as nothing," Shiva added, his fingers still moving with deadly precision across the controls. "Average student. Quiet guy. Weak guy. Invisible."
He swallowed.
"I want to prove that I can do something. That I'm not useless."
Another demon fell.
"And…" he paused, his voice softening, "I want Riya Angel to be proud of me too."
Aljasheem smiled faintly. "So this is your way of fighting."
Shiva nodded.
They sat in silence for a while, the only sound the chaotic violence of the game clashing against the stillness of the night.
After finishing a mission, Shiva leaned back slowly, the adrenaline fading. His eyes dimmed.
Aljasheem leaned against the wall, watching Shiva play with intense focus, his fingers moving fast, precise, and deadly.
"Which gun do you like the most?" Aljasheem asked.
Shiva didn't look away from the screen, his eyes locked, jaw tight.
"Super Shotgun."
Another demon fell, blasted away in a single powerful shot.
"I'll always use it… it kills demons so easily."
He paused for a second, reloading, the screen flashing with fire and chaos.
"I love killing demons from hell… that's why I love DOOM."
Aljasheem smiled faintly,
"There's something I need to do," he said.
Aljasheem turned toward him. "What?"
"I need to meet my father."
The words hung heavy between them.
Aljasheem didn't interrupt as Shiva explains abt his tragedy story of his father and his sister.
A long pause.
"So I'm going alone."
Concern flickered across Aljasheem's face. "Shiva… this isn't a joke."
"I know, wait I'll change my dress."
Slowly, Shiva stood and pulled out a small bag from beneath the bed. He enters into bathroom and He changed into a white tank top, then pulled on a black hoodie streaked with subtle red neon lines, the fabric blending easily with darkness. Fingerless gloves followed, leaving only his fingertips exposed — enough grip, minimal trace.
After he dressed up himself, he comes out from the bathroom
From the shadows, another figure emerged.
Lakshman.
"I knew you were planning something," he said calmly. "You move differently when you're about to break rules."
Shiva exhaled slowly and absentmindedly. "I don't have a choi-..wait.. How'd you get inside? And you listened everything??.."
Lakshman studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, and...Don't get caught."
Aljasheem grabbed Shiva's wrist briefly. "Come back."
Shiva says
"Okay...I will."
The hotel corridors were dim, illuminated only by faint yellow emergency lights. Shiva moved silently, footsteps soft against the cold tiles, every muscle alert. As he turned a corner, his shoulder suddenly slammed into something solid.
"Oii—!"
Chandramani staggered back.
Behind him stood Santhosh and Santosh Shivam.
Their faces twisted instantly with anger.
"Where the hell are you sneaking off to?" Chandramani snapped. "You didn't come to my room. Why?"
Shiva didn't reply.
"Move," he said flatly.
The calm in his voice only fueled their rage.
Before Chandramani could react, Shivam — the bulkier of the twin— swung his fist forward.
Suddenly-
Shiva caught it mid-air.
The grip was sudden. Crushing.
Shivam gasped as Shiva twisted his wrist sharply, pain shooting up his arm. A low groan escaped his throat as his knees buckled slightly.
Chandramani raised his hand to strike.
"ENOUGH!!!!."
A firm voice cut through the tension.
They turned.
Riya Angel stood there.
Blue open shirt.
White tank top.
Blue jeans.
Eyes blazing.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
The bullies hesitated. Her friends nearby began to peek from their doors. Attention was dangerous.
Chandramani clicked his tongue. "Not worth it."
They backed away slowly, throwing Shiva one last venomous glare before disappearing down the corridor.
Shiva stood frozen.
Riya stepped closer. "Shiva, Where are you going at this time?"
"I-... Uh.... "
For a moment, he almost told her everything.
About his father.
About the prison.
About the pain.
But before the words could leave his lips, her friends called out from behind her.
"Riya! Come on!"
She turned, then looked back at Shiva one last time.
"Be careful as where you going and come fast," she said softly.
He nodded.
As she walked away, Shiva released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Minutes later, he slipped past the sleeping watchman, retrieved his bike, and rolled it quietly out of the hotel compound. The engine came alive in a low growl as he accelerated onto the empty road, darkness swallowing him almost instantly.
Behind him, Sathankulam remained still.
Ahead of him…
His past waited.