After a while, a woman walking down the street notices the door of a house left ajar. Curious and uneasy, she steps inside. What she sees freezes her in place — a lifeless body hanging from the ceiling, and a child collapsed unconscious on the floor. Horrified, she fumbles for her phone and dials the hospital, her voice trembling as she describes the nightmare unfolding before her eyes.
Moments later, an ambulance screeches to a halt in front of the house. Two paramedics rush out. Spotting the shaken woman outside, they approach her quickly. She stammers through the details, pointing toward the open door. Without wasting a second, they rush inside.
The scene that greets them is pure horror. One of the men immediately moves toward the child, while the other turns back to the woman, urgency in his eyes.
They freed her from the ropes, and one of the men went to check on the child. They immediately realized that the woman had been dead for a while, and the child was unconscious due to dehydration and a high fever.
One of the men carried the woman's body to the ambulance, while the other carefully picked up the child. He noticed markings on the child's arm — a name was written on one, and there was a knife in the other hand. He understood that the child had done it himself and wondered what could have driven him to harm his own body. He carried the child to the ambulance and drove to the nearest hospital.
While in the ambulance, one of the men put the child on an IV drip and checked his pockets, where he found a letter and a business card. After they reached the hospital, they took the child to a doctor and explained the situation.
The doctor checks the kid's belongings and stumbles upon something unexpected — a business card. The name on it belongs to a very powerful and well-known figure in the city.
Without hesitation, the doctor pulls out his phone, dials the number on the card, and waits.
Ring... ring...
The call connects. The doctor quickly explains the situation, but the voice on the other end cuts him off — cold, confident, and condescending.
"Listen carefully," the man says, his tone dripping with arrogance. "Get rid of the body. Burn that card. Forget this ever happened."
He pauses for a moment, then adds, "And doctor, consider this a favor you won't regret. I know the hospital director personally. You'll be promoted — much sooner than you think. Oh, and tell the ambulance driver he'll be taken care of too. Generously."
With that, the call ends.
After the call ended, the doctor decided to follow the orders given by Ryan. The doctor went inside the hospital where he saw the director come down and approach him. They started talking. The director already knew about the situation, and he explained to the doctor what would happen if he completed the task and what position he would be promoted to. After hearing this, the doctor was overjoyed and was ready to do anything for his promotion.
After handling the situation with the doctor, the director went to the ambulance drivers, spoke with them, and offered each driver 5 lakh rupees—a hefty bribe to buy their silence. Greed took over, and without hesitation, they accepted the money, agreeing not to speak a word about what had happened. The director warned them sternly: if any rumors spread about the incident, there would be consequences they wouldn't want to face.
The drivers, blinded by the sudden wealth, took the money happily and disappeared. The director then returned to the hospital and told the doctor that there was still work to be done—quickly, and without drawing any attention.
Driven by greed and masked under the pretense of duty, the doctor took the woman's body to the mortuary department. There, he filled out a form with her credentials, claiming her body was being donated for educational purposes. But the truth was far more sinister—valuable organs could be used from her body, not for science, but to serve the needs of VIP patients who could pay the price. In the end, it wasn't compassion or duty that guided their actions—it was pure, calculated greed.
After a few hours, the kid slowly wakes up, his vision blurry. Blinking a few times, he looks around at the unfamiliar surroundings. It doesn't take long for him to realize—he's not at home.
Panic rises in his chest. He sits up abruptly and cries out, his voice trembling.
"Amma! Amma... Amma!"
A nurse quickly enters the room, approaching him with a calm demeanor.
"Hey, it's okay. Please, calm down," she says gently. "You're in a hospital. There are other patients here too, so try to relax."
The boy takes a few shaky breaths, trying to compose himself. After a few minutes, his fear softens into confusion.
"Why am I here?" he asks quietly.
The nurse kneels beside him, her voice soft but serious.
"You were found unconscious in your house. You had a deep wound on your hand and were in pretty bad shape, so we brought you here as quickly as we could."
She pauses, giving him a moment to process the information, then continues,
"We still need to treat that wound. It's important."
She gathers a piece of cotton and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. As she reaches for his hand, the boy instinctively pulls it back.
"No!" he yells, fear flashing in his eyes.
The nurse offers a kind smile, unfazed by his resistance. She tries again, gently taking his hand.
"I know it hurts, but if we don't treat this, it could get much worse," she explains. "The cut is deep—we have to clean it properly."
"Get it treated — it will leave a bad scar on your hand," the nurse warns, but the kid refuses, shouting, "No!"
The nurse backs off. The kid, still anxious, looks up and asks, "Where is my mother?"
The nurse replies gently, "The doctor will come and explain everything. Just wait a few minutes — we've already told him you're awake."
A few minutes later, the doctor arrives and checks the kid's temperature. Turning to the nurse, he says, "His temperature is back to normal. Once the IV is done, he can be discharged. His bill's already been paid — he's good to go."
Suddenly, the kid grabs the doctor's coat and demands, "Where is my mother?"
The doctor, speaking in an arrogant tone, responds, "Your mother came here a month ago… she donated her body to the hospital."
Shocked and furious, the kid grabs the doctor by the collar and shouts, "You're lying to me! My mother would have told me about this!"
The doctor replies, "I can prove it." He holds up a form and continues, "This is the document your mother filled out when she was admitted to our hospital." He hands the form to the kid.
The kid scans the paper, then looks up and says, "I don't believe it."
The doctor shrugs. "Believe it or not, your mother's body is now the property of this hospital."
Hearing those words, something snaps inside the kid. His eyes fill with rage. Without warning, he punches the doctor square in the face and yells, "I know who's behind all of this!"
The doctor, holding his bloodied nose, shouts for the security guards. "Get him out of here!"
The guards rush in, grab the kid, and drag him toward the exit. As he struggles against their grip, he shouts back, "I'll be back one day! You hear me, doctor? I'm coming back—and I'm taking my mother with me!"
As the exit doors slid open, the kid twisted around in the security guards' grip, eyes blazing with fury and tears. With all the strength left in his small body, he shouted so loud it echoed through the hospital halls:
"You hear me, Doctor?! I'll be back one day! I'll take my mother out of this place myself! I remember your face—I won't ever forget it!"
The guards didn't flinch. They hurled him out through the front entrance like he was nothing. He hit the ground hard, the pavement biting into his skin. But he didn't cry. Not anymore.