Inspector Arjun and The Vanishing Game

Though the streets of Paharganj never actually slept, tonight they felt disturbingly still. Inspector Arjun Malhotra slouched in his car, the weight of another missing person’s case heavy on him.

He flipped open the case file – Rajan Sharma, Age 42. A businessman, husband, and father. Disappeared without leaving behind any trace. No forced entry at his home. No ransom calls. There is no CCTV footage. Just a single note left on his desk: “Find me if you can.“

Arjun exhaled sharply. Something was wrong.

Kidnappings had a rhythm—a pattern of demand, struggle, or desperation. But this? This felt orchestrated. This felt personal. And Arjun hated personal cases.

The Sharma residence was dim, with much of what was left of the living room showing traces of sleepless nights. Meera Sharma hunched over the dining table with a half-empty cup of chai long cold in her hands.

She then looked up as Arjun entered the room; her eyes were swollen and red. “He left for work just like any other day,” she whispered, her voice roughened by the emotion. “I called him at lunch. He sounded normal. He said he’d be home by eight.“

Arjun’s gaze sharpened. “And then?“

Meera hesitated, then handed him her phone.

“At 8:15 PM, I got this.” A single text message, simple and chilling. -“Don’t look for me.“

Arjun felt his stomach tighten, “Was it his number?“.

She nodded. “But that’s not my husband. He wouldn’t do this.“

Arjun studied her face. She wasn’t just grieving—she was certain. “Did Rajan seem worried about anything recently? Did he mention trouble at work?“, he asked.

Meera shook her head. “No. But…” she hesitated, her fingers tightening around her cup. “Last month, he started coming home late. He wouldn’t say why. And… there were calls. He’d step out to answer them.“

Arjun leaned forward. “Do you remember any names? Any words that stood out?“

She swallowed hard. “Just one.” A pause. Then, in a whisper: “Green Storm.“

The words sent a chill down Arjun’s spine.

Rajan’s last phone signal had pinged near an abandoned warehouse in Noida—an odd place for a businessman to be.

The air inside was thick with dust and the faint scent of rusted metal. Arjun moved carefully, his flashlight cutting through the darkness. Then he saw it. A table stacked with files, surveillance photos, and classified-looking documents. His breath hitched as he scanned the papers. Every missing person had a common link—they were detectives, private investigators, or ex-police officers.

Then his stomach dropped. His name was on the list. Before he could react, a metallic voice crackled through a hidden speaker, low and controlled. -“Congratulations, Inspector Malhotra. You’re exactly where you need to be.“

A ticking sound filled the air. Arjun’s pulse spiked. A trap. He had seconds to think. His eyes darted across the room. The files—they held answers, but staying meant risking death. A narrow window. His only way out. With a grunt, he grabbed a rusted chair and smashed through the glass just as thick, choking gas exploded behind him.

He landed hard, rolling onto the dirt outside, coughing violently.

Then he looked up—and his breath caught. Rajan Sharma was standing there. Unharmed. Smiling. “You passed,” he said. “Welcome to the real game.“

Arjun’s body was still been tense with adrenaline, his fists tightly clenched.

“You faked your disappearance?“

Rajan nodded, his expression unreadable.

“To test you,” he said. “To see if you were ready for something bigger.“

Arjun’s temper flared. “You wasted police resources on a game?“

Rajan’s smirk faded. “This isn’t a game. After the Green Storm, the world changed. The crimes you see? That’s just the surface. We’re facing something bigger—technology that can control minds, weapons that leave no trace. We need people who can see beyond the obvious.“

Arjun exhaled sharply. Mind control? Secret weapons? Sounds like a complete conspiracy theory. “And you think I’m one of those people?“

Rajan studied him for a moment, then handed him a file.

Arjun flipped it open. And his heart stopped. Inside was a photo of Priya—his girlfriend.

A cold weight settled in his chest.

“Why do you have this?” His voice was quiet, dangerous. Rajan exhaled. “Because Priya wasn’t who you thought she was.“

Silence.

Then, Rajan held out a folder.

“You can go back to your desk job,” he said. “Or you can join us and find out the truth.“

Arjun’s hands tightened around the file. He already knew his answer.

“I’m in.“

The Vanishing Game Had Just Begun…