Mumbai General Hospital had long been known for its high standards and tranquil atmosphere, but recently, a disturbing rumor had spread among its staff: within the span of a few months, four night-shift nurses had become pregnant, all within weeks of each other. The coincidence was unsettling, especially since all the women worked in the same ward—the long-term care unit—where Raghav Mehta had been lying in a coma for over three years following a road accident.
Dr. Arjun Sen, the ward supervisor, was a methodical and rational man. Initially, he dismissed the pregnancies as nothing more than a coincidence. But when a fifth nurse, Priya Sharma, nervously informed him that she, too, was pregnant, something inside him shifted. All of the nurses were young, responsible, and not in committed relationships. Most troubling of all, each of them said their symptoms began shortly after they had been assigned to Raghav’s room.
Arjun searched for medical explanations. He examined patient histories, protocols, and possible hormonal or medication-related causes, but found nothing out of the ordinary. None of the nurses shared medication, none were undergoing hormonal treatments, and there were no errors in the handling of biological materials. Everything seemed fine… except that the situation itself defied logic.
One evening, while reviewing the reports again and again, Arjun noticed an alarming pattern: all the pregnancies occurred during shifts when he was absent—typically between 2:00 a.m. and 4:00 a.m., the quietest hours in the ward.
Driven by a mix of professional duty and deep unease, Arjun took a step he would normally never consider: he secretly installed a hidden camera in Raghav’s room. He didn’t ask for permission, nor did he tell anyone. He simply needed to understand what was happening during those quiet hours.
Two nights later, while reviewing the footage, Arjun saw hours of stillness… until 3:17 a.m., when something moved. Arjun leaned in closer, his heart racing.
The door creaked open. It wasn’t a nurse or a doctor. A tall man stood there, wearing everyday clothes and a hood that obscured his face. He carried a bag and wore surgical gloves.
The man approached Raghav’s bed, checked the infusion, then moved toward the medical storage cabinet where samples were kept. With disturbing skill, he filled several tubes and syringes, handling the medical materials like a trained professional.
Then he did something that made Arjun’s blood run cold: he silently placed the prepared injections onto the tray meant for the night shift.
At that moment, Arjun picked up the phone, his hands trembling.
“Police… please come immediately!”
When the police arrived at Mumbai General Hospital, an eerie silence seemed to descend, as though even the air was holding its breath. Arjun handed the footage to Inspector Virendra Rathi, a sharp-eyed and serious officer. After reviewing it, the inspector concluded this wasn’t just a mistake—it was a deliberate, calculated act of manipulation.
During initial questioning, the pregnant nurses appeared confused and emotionally shaken. None of them remembered being assaulted or noticing any signs of intoxication. The only connection they had was their shifts, and a shared sense that something “strange” had been happening in the ward over the past few weeks: dizziness, drowsiness, moments of confusion—symptoms they had attributed to exhaustion.
The police analyzed the injections and infusions recovered from the medical cabinet. The results were startling: they contained reproductive hormones and a mild sedative capable of causing light numbness and dizziness without complete unconsciousness. But the most crucial question remained—how had the nurses gotten pregnant?
The answer came the next day. A forensic technician reported that the injections contained male biological material, handled in a way that only a trained professional could manage. Genetic testing confirmed the material matched a single donor.
When Inspector Rathi shared the results with Arjun, a chill ran down his spine.
“One donor? Who?”
“We’ll know after cross-checking the data,” Rathi replied.
After the data was matched, a name emerged that stunned everyone: Raghav Mehta—the very patient who had been in a coma. His DNA matched the biological material exactly. But it seemed impossible—Raghav had been unconscious for years, incapable of any interaction or activity.
The next step was to identify the man in the footage. Based on his movements, gait, and the way he handled medical materials, several staff members recognized him as Ravindra More, a former nurse who had been suspended a year earlier following internal complaints of inappropriate behavior toward women. The allegations had never been fully proven, but he had been known for his obsessive interest in certain colleagues.
The police tracked him down—but Ravindra had disappeared. In his apartment, they found medical documents, receipts for anesthetics purchased online, and a notebook filled with notes on pregnancy and reproduction. It was clear he had been planning this for months. Most chilling of all were photographs of the five nurses taken inside the hospital, along with old newspaper clippings about Raghav’s accident.
As the investigation deepened, Arjun was consumed by guilt. He had overseen the care of a man who had no voice or defense, while someone else had used his body as a tool for crime. The nurses—Priya among them—were shattered. Some reconsidered continuing their pregnancies, while others broke down in tears, grappling with betrayal, fear, and a loss of control over their own lives.
Three days later, a hospital security guard alerted the police: he had seen a man resembling Ravindra near the parking lot. When the officers arrived, they found a white van. Inside were empty cold-storage boxes, gloves, sedatives, and a calendar marked with names and dates of new nurses.
Inspector Rathi realized Ravindra intended to continue his plan. Hospital security was tightened, and all entrances, stairwells, and basements were searched. The priority was to catch him before anyone else was harmed.
Meanwhile, Arjun reviewed Raghav’s medical history once more, trying to understand the connection between the two men. What he discovered was chilling: Ravindra and Raghav had been schoolmates. An old HR mental-health note from Ravindra’s file mentioned that, as a teenager, he had shown obsessive attachment to people he admired or considered “exceptional.”
The records showed that Raghav had been athletic and popular, while Ravindra had been isolated and introverted. It became clear Raghav hadn’t been chosen at random—this was driven by a twisted mix of obsession, envy, admiration, and a need for control.
Around midnight, an officer patrolling the long-term care ward heard sounds coming from the supply room. The door was half-open. Inside, Ravindra was preparing to carry out his crime again.
When the officer tried to stop him, Ravindra fled toward the emergency stairwell. An alert went out across the hospital. He was finally cornered near the machinery room. Trembling, he muttered incoherently:
“I just… wanted to leave something good in the world… something of mine… something of his…”
He was arrested without incident.
During interrogation, Ravindra confessed that he had been extracting samples from Raghav for months and using them on the nurses. He justified his actions with delusions, believing he was “preserving the legacy of a perfect man” while also fulfilling his own obsessions.
The justice system acted swiftly. Ravindra was charged with multiple serious crimes: reproductive assault, manipulation of biological material, violation of consent, and endangerment of health. He was convicted and sentenced to a long prison term.
The nurses received both psychological and legal support. Their pregnancies were closely monitored by specialists to ensure the safety of both the women and the children. Some chose to continue their pregnancies, while others opted for available medical options. No one was left unsupported.
Raghav’s family was informed. He remained in a coma but was transferred to a more secure facility, and all hospital protocols were reviewed.
Arjun, forever changed by the experience, enacted strict reforms: enhanced access control, increased surveillance during night shifts, and more rigorous rules for handling biological materials. His guilt never fully subsided, but his resolve ensured that such a tragedy would never happen again.