Cute Boy Killer Man: Part I

By Raman Thori

“Mama’s boy Mohit used to fantasize of becoming a famous fiction writer one day. Then what happened that this 20-year cute boy turns into a killer man and goes behind the trellises leaving his widow and destitute mother unaided.

When he gets arrested and faces trial in the court of law, there, it is revealed how he utilizes an exercise to kill that victim politician and so-called ringleader of Hawala Networks.

The investigators were completely incapable of getting any clue to this perplexing murder mystery. Even their third degree torture was unable to break this rigid boy and open his mouth to resolve a month long puzzle.

This mystery takes place in the city of Underworld and Bollywood, Mumbai - the financial capital of India and takes many interesting twists when Indian intelligence agency “RAW” indulges in the affair.

Get answered to the questions - Why the little boy chose to murder someone and how he was able to fight this villainous system?

FULL OF SUSPENSE AND ACTION.

A college boy, a politician, and a startling killer exercise.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raman Thori
• Release date: Sep 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301800520

Raman Thori

Raman Thori lives in Chandigarh, India; born in 1987. He is working at the Government Medical College and Hospital, Chandigarh, India as a Nursing Staff. Full version of this book can be downloaded from amazon.com

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The Killer Exercise

Raman Thori

COPYRIGHT

Published by Raman Thori at Smashwords

This is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, and incidents painted in this book are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, events or place, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright

2013 Raman Thori

Raman Thori asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this novel.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher.

The Killer Exercise

For my dreams, family and friends.

Prologue:

Though, it was a dusk; but the smoke had made it a little dark that helped in giving it the impression of night. A young man was sprinting by a gigantic Skyscraper’s coping - twenty stories above from the earth, tremendously speedy - as fast as he could do without the fear of being crashed if he get to fall from over the building onto the road and pulverized by the traffic.

Seven armed Cops also were sprinting after him together with firing intermittently.

The young man was jumping over the things like, Dish TV antennas, pipelines, etc that were coming in his way, and so had to be done by the cops to catch him. Not only this, they were facing difficulty in running as they had heavy rifles in their hands.

They were firing over the sprinting young man intermittently, however; it was not touching him anyway, that was the indication they wanted to take him alive.

That running young man was MOHIT, 20 - cute by his look - shirtless, wearing just a torn trouser.

He was horribly frightened, trying his best to go escaped by throwing the things in the ways of the cops to create obstacles and to decelerate their speed.

The scene was fairly match-able to Hollywood action movie.

All of a sudden, Mohit imposed breaks to his steps, as there was no way of going further over there on this building.

He ascended upon the coping and peeped downwards to the road –it was full of traffic at the building’s bottom.

He glanced back at the cops; they had already buffeted him each way, pointing their guns over at him.

His face, with whole body was soaked with perspiration out of the exertion he just had done and fear of being killed too; it started dripping down over to the coping.

‘Surrender yourself to the police; otherwise, you will be shot dead, Mohit. I'll simply count to ten - One, two, three, four, five . . .’ the Superintendent of police shouted.

Mohit peeped downwards to the road another time and watched lots of traffic crawling over there.

‘. . . six, seven,