Rainy Night in City
The rain hammered the streets as Officer Pathan's squad car skidded to a halt at Roadside. Three thugs loomed over a crumpled street vendor, their laughter cutting through the storm. One kicked over a cart of spices, sending crimson turmeric and golden cumin scattering across the wet pavement like confetti.
Thug 1 (grinning, cracking his knuckles): "Pay up, old man, or we'll break more than your pots!"
Pathan(stepping out, voice booming): "Break it up—now."
The thugs turned, their smirks widening. The tallest, a muscle-bound brute with a scarred lip, stepped forward.
Thug 2(mocking): "Look—a drowned rat in a uniform! You here to beg for chai, cop?"
Pathan didn't flinch. Rain dripped from his peaked cap as he unclipped his baton. "Last chance. Walk away, or I drag you to jail by your ankles."
Thug 1 (spitting): "Jail? You?" He lunged, swinging a rusty chain.
Action Sequence:
- Pathan sidestepped, the chain whipping past his ear. In one fluid motion, he hooked the chain with his baton and yanked, sending Thug 1 sprawling face-first into a puddle.
- Thug 2 charged, a knife glinting. Pathan ducked, driving his shoulder into the man's ribs. A grunt, a twist, and the knife clattered to the ground. Pathan pinned him against the vendor's stall, cuffing his wrists behind his back. "Stay. Down."
- Thug 3, wiry and quick, tried to flee. Pathan hurled his baton like a boomerang—it struck the thug's knees, dropping him mid-sprint. "You run like a goat with its tail on fire," Pathan growled, hauling him up by his collar.
Thug 3 (wheezing): "Y-you're crazy!"
Pathan (smirking, tightening the cuffs): "Crazy enough to chase you in this rain. Congrats—you're tonight's lucky winners."
Aftermath:
The vendor trembled, clutching his torn shawl. Pathan knelt, gently righting the spice cart. "You'll get compensation for this, uncle. File a report tomorrow—I'll handle it myself."
Vendor:- "Thank you, sir!" the vendor exclaimed, his eyes shining with gratitude. "I don't know what I would have done without your help."
Pathan smiled, his expression softening. "Just doing my job, uncle. You're safe now."
The vendor nodded, still shaken. "God bless you, Officer...?"
"Pathan," he replied, his voice firm. "Officer Pathan. Don't worry, you'll be safe now."
As Pathan watched the vendor return to his stall, he felt a pang of nostalgia. He thought of his childhood friend, the Khan,(Thought:- All this Is For my Friend Khan) and the memories they had shared.
Scene:- Lightings Occurs in Clouds
CRACK!
A bolt of lightning tore through the sky, jolting Khan awake. His chest heaved like he'd sprinted through hell itself. His HeartBeats So Fast, Whole Body Covers in Sweat.
Khan(slamming a fist into the mattress): "Damn it… Again?"
I don't know why This same Dream Again.
Dream
Fragments flashed behind his eyelids: a rain-slick alley choked with shadows, the glint of a knife trembling in a stranger's grip. A child's scream—*his* scream, raw and desperate—echoed as a silver pendant snapped from a chain, vanishing into the dark. Always the same. Always ending before he could see the face of the figure looming over him.
Now Dim light of Sun Comming from window On face of Khan
Khan:- Oh It's Morning..
Wide panel: a cluttered yet cozy room bathed in soft, morning light filtering through half-closed blinds. A digital alarm blares: 6:30 AM.
Khan, a 21-year-old college student,
Panel Focus on Khan's face. Tired eyes. Slight sweat on his forehead.
Khan (thinking):
"Why do I feel like I just ran a marathon in my sleep?"
He sits up slowly, stretching. Behind him, in the mirror, a faint shadow seems to linger for just a second too long.
[Khan Stand up and goes to washroom]
Khan stares at himself in the mirror while brushing his teeth. The reflection seems a split-second out of sync.
Khan (muttering):
"Third night in a row… same weird dream. Running, fire… and screaming."
Back to present: he spits, splashes water on his face, then looks up again—nothing unusual now.
[Khan get ready and On the Way to College – Streets of the City]
Wide panel of the bustling city. Khan walks among the crowd, headphones on, hoodie up, looking worn down.
Text Message Pop-Up (from Friend Pathan):
"Khan, It's being You came this City 4 Day before and I Messaged You. You haven't replied in 3 days."
Khan (thinking):
"Three days? I thought I texted him…"
A quick flash of another text message appears in his sent folder: "Don't worry, I'm fine." But Khan doesn't remember sending it.
[Khan Ignores That and Moves to Campus]
College Campus – Late Morning
The Lecture Hall
Visual: The camera pans across a dimly lit philosophy classroom. Sunlight filters through dusty windows, casting long shadows. Khan slouches in the back row, his sketchbook open. The professor, Dr. Elias, writes on the chalkboard: "Plato's Tripartite Soul vs. Modern Psychology."
Dr. Elias (lecturing):
"Plato believed the soul was divided into reason, spirit, and desire. But modern psychology suggests something… darker."
He taps the board. "Conditions like Dissociative Identity Disorder—multiple personalities—force us to ask: What if the mind isn't just split… but shattered?"
A student raises a hand.
Student:"But isn't DID just… made-up? Like in bad TV shows?"
Dr. Elias (smiling grimly):
"Ah, a common myth. DID isn't fiction. It's a survival mechanism. When trauma fractures the self, the mind creates alters—separate personas to bear the pain. Think of them as… guardians. Or prisoners."
Close-up on Khan: His pencil freezes mid-sketch. The camera zooms in on his eye twitching. A faint, distorted whisper ( voice) hisses in his ear:
"Prisoners… like us."
Khan's Internal Monologue (Text Box):
"Why does this feel… familiar?"*
Dr. Elias (continuing):
"These alters aren't random. They serve roles. A protector. A strategist. A child. Even a* destroyer."He pauses. "But what happens when the guardians… turn on their host?"
Khan's Notebook: Instead of notes, his page is filled with strange symbols and overlapping circles.
Khan (blinking):
"What the hell…? I was writing notes, wasn't I?"
He flips the page—normal handwriting from earlier. He looks around. No one else notices.
Small panel: A fellow student glances at him warily, as if he heard him mutter something under his breath.
[After the lecture Over]
College Canteen – Afternoon
Khan sits alone, staring at his food tray. Students chat around him. He feels distant. Detached.
A girl from his class approaches—Priya, friendly, vibrant.
Priya:
"Hey Khan, are you okay? You look… really out of it lately."
Khan (forcing a smile):
"Yeah… just not sleeping well, that's all."
Priya (smirking):
"Well, you did almost call the teacher 'General' yesterday. That was weird."
Khan (thinking):
"I… don't remember that."
[Khan Now concern about himself what is going on Why I Cant remember anything]
Evening – Khan's Apartment
TV playing news in the background. Khan sprawled on the couch, flipping through a psychology book. Headline on TV:
TV Reporter (background):
"Another incident last night—three men assaulted in an alley, stopped by an unidentified figure. Authorities believe the suspect has military-level combat training."
Khan's eyes drift toward the screen. The silhouette shown briefly on CCTV… stands just like him. Same jacket. Same build.
Khan (whispers):
"No way… That's not… me, right?"
[KHAN was Shocked After seeing the Vigilante but ignores him by thinking I can't do that Type of Stunts and Goes to Bed for sleep]
Dark room. Khan lies in bed, eyes shut tight, but his body stiffens. Sweat trickles down his temple.
Khan (murmuring in sleep):
"Not again… I don't want to go back…"
Close-up panel: his fingers twitch.
In the dream (vivid flash):
A masked figure in black steps forward in firelight. His voice echoes—stern and cold.
Voice:
"You're weak. That's why I exist."
"Let me handle it."
Khan jolts awake—gasping for breath, heart pounding.
Khan:
"Who... are you?"
Outside the window, in the darkness, a tall shadow watches him from across the street. Unmoving. Silently observing.
---
[TO BE CONTINUED…]