In the hills of Uttarakhand, cold, biting winds swept across a deserted mountain path, howling through the trees like distant voices. Leaves trembled, dust whipped into the air, and even the thick jackets Vikram and Priya wore seemed powerless against the creeping chill.
Above them, dark clouds had gathered—dense and brooding—as if the sky was holding its breath. The air was heavy with moisture, and the earthy scent of damp trees and wet stone clung to every breath they took.
Vikram pulled an old handkerchief from his pocket, quickly tied it around his face, and muttered through the fabric,
"We're lost… aren't we?"
Priya gave a silent nod. Her eyes betrayed what her voice didn't—worry, and something deeper.
She checked her phone. Swiped. Paused.
"No signal," she said softly.
Her hands were freezing, but she still reached out and took Vikram's. No words—just a quiet plea for comfort.
Vikram glanced at her pale face and smiled faintly, trying to cut through the weight of fear.
"This isn't your fault, Priya. We'll find the next village soon. I'm right here."
Priya nodded again, though this time her gaze was distant. Something unspoken lingered behind her eyes. Wordlessly, she turned and kept walking.
They hadn't seen another person for hours. The forest had grown so still, even the wind sounded wrong. A slow, creeping unease settled into their bones—What if there's no way back from here?
And then…
A sudden rustle.
Both of them froze and turned toward the bushes.
"What was that?" Vikram whispered, barely breathing.
The sound stopped.
"Maybe… just the wind," Priya said, her voice thin and uncertain.
But her tone betrayed her. She wasn't convinced. Neither was he.
Fog rolled in—at first curling between the trees, then thickening until it swallowed the trail, the rocks, even the space between them. A curtain of white mist hung in the air.
Then—through the haze—something moved.
A small figure slowly came into view.
A child. No older than ten. Dressed in ragged, filthy clothes. His eyes were unnaturally deep.
And his voice, when he spoke, was far too calm.
"Are you lost?" he asked in perfect, precise Hindi.
"I know the way," he said… and smiled.
(A GLIMPSE OF THE UPCOMING THREAT)
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In Delhi, Gokalpuri (AYAAN & ANYA'S HOMECITY)
A quiet Sunday morning in a corner of Delhi. Outside the window, the soft rays of the sun were slowly spilling into the room. The air carried a gentle, comforting chill. Steam rose from a cup of tea on the table, its sweet aroma filling the entire room.
Anya stirred sugar into her tea, slowly swirling the spoon. The soft clink of metal against the cup echoed in the morning silence, making it feel even more still and quiet.
"So, Bhaiya… tell me about your new job," Anya said with a slight smile.
"You've been really busy these past few days… and you haven't told me anything."
Ayaan rested his hand on the back of the chair and leaned back. A strange smile appeared on his face—like he was lost in thought, or carefully weighing his words.
"It's a bit complicated, Anya…" he said softly, as if feeling a little uneasy.
"I've never seen a job like this before."
Anya looked at him with a steady gaze. "Remember how they said they had already checked my background?"
"Yeah," Anya said after thinking for a moment. "It feels like they were spying on you or something."
Ayaan took a deep breath and sipped his tea. "Their main branch is in Sanjay Van," he said, setting the cup down on the table and interlocking his fingers. "And you already know… that place is known for all sorts of strange stories."
Anya nodded quietly.
Ayaan continued his story. "There's a small, ordinary-looking hut deep in the forest."
His expression shifted slightly, as if lost in the memory. "There's a man who lives there… he's the security guard for the organization."
A slight smile crossed his lips, as if a strange memory was replaying in his mind.
"I met him on the day of my interview… he was just sitting in the waiting room… eating samosas."
Anya's eyes widened. She set her cup down on the table and looked at Ayaan with a suspicious glance. "The main branch is in the jungle?" she said, folding her hands as she sat up straight. "Are you kidding me?"
Ayaan gave a faint smile, as if he had expected her reaction. "But that office isn't actually in the forest… it's underneath it."
Anya's hand froze. The shock on her face deepened. "Under the forest?"
Ayaan took another sip of his tea, as if this was all completely normal to him. "Yeah, that hut is actually just a façade. When you go inside, you'll realize it's actually a lift…"
He pointed downward with his finger. "…and through it, you can go underground."
Leaning forward in her chair, Anya said, "Underground? Seriously?"
There was excitement in her voice. "That actually sounds pretty cool!"
Ayaan twirled his cup with one hand and pushed his hair back with the other. "Yeah, seriously."
There was a faint smile on his face, like this had become routine for him now.
"The organization is called Trinity Foundation. They operate in secret, away from the public eye—that's why they've built an underground base."
Anya tapped her finger lightly on the table and looked off to the side, as if lost in thought.
"To me, this sounds like something out of a fantasy sci-fi movie," she said, narrowing her eyes slightly at Ayaan. "It almost feels like they're involved in something illegal…" she lowered her voice, as if someone might be listening. "So, what exactly do these people do?"
Ayaan took the last sip of his tea, set the cup on the table, and pulled his chair back slightly.
"I was told they're conducting secret research to learn more about Earth," he said in a calm, steady voice. "And they're getting government funding for it too."
"Government?" she repeated, picking up her cup of tea—though she paused for a moment, gently swirling it as she thought. "So what exactly is it that they do?"
Ayaan raised his hand, counting off on his fingers. "They have me collect soil, grass, water, and…" he paused briefly before continuing, "…animal and human body samples."
Anya's hand froze on the cup. She made a strange face. "That… sounds kinda gross."
Ayaan waved his hand, trying to ease her concern. "I know it might sound like they're doing something shady, but it's really not like that," he said casually. "Besides, the place looks… pretty different from the inside."
Anya pulled her chair closer. "Different how?"
Ayaan paused for a moment, as if replaying those corridors in his mind. "Actually, the company has four floors—more like layers. But the structure isn't anything like a normal office."
Anya squinted slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I've only been given access to the first layer so far," Ayaan said with a deep breath.
"The other layers involve toxic and dangerous experiments. You need special clearance to go down there."
Anya was fully invested now. "And the first layer?"
Ayaan drew a square in the air with his hand. "The entire place is made of steel—the floors, the walls, even the gates."
He paused for a moment, then added, "Everything is automated… just like an advanced facility should be."
"Wow," Anya said, clearly amazed. "And the rooms?"
Ayaan smiled slightly. "I haven't explored many rooms… just saw the manager's office."
Ayaan fell silent after saying that, but Anya's face was full of curiosity. "Don't stop, Bhaiya—keep telling me more!" she urged.
Ayaan leaned back in his chair, trying to relax a bit.
"My first encounter there was with the security guard," he said, recalling the moment. "He was the one who introduced me to the manager."
"Manager?" Anya asked, her curiosity growing.
"Yeah," Ayaan nodded. "He's in charge of the entire organization. He sits at the top of the hierarchy. I go to his cabin every week to submit my report."
Anya took a small sip of her tea, then looked at Ayaan with growing intrigue.
"And then?"
There was a mischievous glint in Ayaan's smile.
"You can't even imagine—when I saw his office, it felt like the hideout of some underworld don."
Anya straightened up in her chair. "Why? What was in that room?"
Ayaan traced a small circle in the air with his hand. "Black walls, black ceiling, black door… It was downright creepy. For a moment, it felt like I'd walked into a maze made of shadows."
Anya's eyes lit up with excitement. "So, were you scared when you met him?"
Ayaan held back a laugh. "Scared? I don't know… but when he looked at me with those pitch-black eyes—straight and unblinking—it felt like he could see every single thought in my head."
Anya set her cup down on the table. "Bhaiya, this is a research center, right? Or… is it something else?"
Ayaan took a deep breath, as if hiding a secret. "I've only been allowed access to the first layer so far. If I want to go deeper…"
He looked at Anya, as though making a decision. "I have to complete twenty tasks. Only then will I know what's really going on inside."
Anya looked at Ayaan silently, as if trying to grasp the deeper meaning behind his words.
Anya set her cup down on the table, her eyes fixed on Ayaan. "And how many tasks have you completed so far?"
Ayaan stayed silent for a moment, as if trying to recall. "Hmm… I think 19."
A faint smile appeared on Anya's face. "So just one more? That's great! You'll be able to explore the rest of the place too!"
Ayaan took a deep breath. "Yeah… but after that, I'll have to make a decision. Whether everything I've heard is true or just a story… Only then will I decide if I want to stay… or walk away."
Anya's smile faded slightly. "It's good that you're prepared… just make sure you take care of yourself."
Ayaan was just about to say something when he suddenly stopped. His hand slowly reached into his pocket, as if he was feeling for something.
"By the way…" he said, pulling out a small metallic object from his pocket. It was wrapped in a piece of cloth. He gently placed it on the table.
Anya glanced at it, a look of confusion on her face. "What is this?"
Without saying a word, Ayaan removed the cloth.
A shiny, black gun lay on the table.
Anya's face went pale.
"A… a gun?" Her voice trembled slightly. "Is it real?"
Ayaan silently wrapped the cloth back over it and slipped it into his pocket again.
"They gave it to me for safety," he said in a calm but heavy voice. "Where I go… things aren't always safe."
"No, Bhaiya!" Anya's voice rose sharply.
"Why would they give you a gun? That means they're going to make you do something wrong!"
Ayaan raised his hand, trying to calm her down. "Anya, relax. So far, I've only collected samples. Nothing dangerous has happened."
Anya shouted angrily, "No, Bhaiya! Promise me you'll quit this job!"
Ayaan looked at Anya for a moment, then turned his gaze away. "Finding a new job right now won't be easy."
"I don't want to hear any excuses! If you don't quit this job… then I'll stop eating!"
Ayaan took a deep breath. "Alright," he said softly, as if each word was hard to get out. "After I finish this last task… I'll resign."
Anya began to cry, then stepped forward and hugged him tightly.
"Bhaiya, you're all I have… I don't want anything to happen to you," she whispered softly.
Ayaan gently patted her back and gave a faint smile. "Don't worry, Anya. Whatever's right for you… that's exactly what I'll do."
Anya nodded and began to walk away.
Ayaan silently watched her walk away.
"Anya, your concern is valid. But until I truly understand what this place is… I'm not going anywhere."
Suddenly, his phone began to vibrate. He picked it up and looked at the screen.
WhatsApp Notification:
Location: Dayalpur, Street No. 3, House No. 5, A-Block.
Sample Type: Hair from an old man.
Info:
They say there's an old man living in this area—someone who's been here for one hundred fifty years. The locals keep their distance because no one truly understands his nature. Your task is to collect a single strand of his hair so the research team can study it.
Ayaan read the notification again. A faint smile curved on his lips.
"The final task…" he thought to himself.
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A New Morning, A New Task
The next day, Ayaan and Varun stood at the bus stand, restlessly glancing around. Ayaan kept checking the time on his phone, then, frustrated, quickly dialed Roshit's number.
As the phone rang, a tired, sleepy voice came from the other end— "Hello…?"
Ayaan put the call on speaker and spoke loudly, "Oye Roshit, where are you? How long are you going to take?"
A shy voice came from the other end, "Bro, I'm stuck in traffic… it'll take a little while."
Varun rolled his eyes, trying to hold back a laugh. "Liar! I don't hear a single vehicle in the background!"
For a moment, there was complete silence—
then suddenly, from the phone, came the sound of a toy car going "vroom-vroom."
"There you go, bro! Hear that?" Roshit said, doing his best to sound convincing.
Just then, another voice came from the background—sweet but slightly scolding. "Arey, Roshit beta, go take a bath! I've heated the water!"
Ayaan immediately called him out, "You idiot! You're still at home, aren't you?"
There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by a sheepish chuckle. "Bro… I accidentally fell asleep. But I'm coming now, give me 30 minutes!"
Varun folded his hands in mock prayer and joked, "Forget him! Let's go check out some girls at the mall in the meantime!"
Roshit snapped to attention. "Girls? Bro, I'm coming too! Don't you dare go without me, please!"
Ayaan smirked slyly and said, "But won't it take you a while to get here?"
"No, no! I'll be there in ten minutes! Don't leave without me, seriously!"
Ayaan folded his hands playfully and said, "Alright, just hurry up." Then, laughing, he ended the call.
Fifteen Minutes Later
Roshit arrived at the bus stand, panting heavily, his shirt damp with sweat. His face showed exhaustion, but a mischievous glint still sparkled in his eyes.
As soon as Varun saw him, he folded his hands dramatically. "Wow, bro! You're faster than the wind!"
Roshit wiped his forehead and gasped, "Yeah man, I ran all the way—didn't even shower!"
Ayaan, holding back laughter, said, "Dude, your mom even heated water for you. Why didn't you just take the shower first?"
Roshit blushed and looked around awkwardly. Then, trying to change the subject, "Arey yaar, forget all that—let's go to the mall. Time to charm some girls!"
Varun raised his hand like a judge delivering a verdict. "We're not going to the mall. Shut up and finish the task first—unless you want them to kick you out of the company!"
Roshit's face fell. "Don't do this, man! I ran all the way here and now you're backing out? That's just cruel!"
Varun scrunched his nose. "Cruelty? Bro, breathe properly—you stink. No girl's falling for you like that. Now move!"
"You traitors!" Roshit groaned. "Lying to your own friend like this!"
Ayaan cut through the noise. "You coming or not? We're leaving either way."
A brief pause. Then Roshit sighed in defeat. "Alright, alright… let's go."
The three boys set off toward their destination by bus. The roads were unusually crowded today—long lines of vehicles everywhere, horns honking in bursts, and people caught in all kinds of small and loud arguments.
The bus was completely packed from the inside. Each seat had two people squeezed together, and those standing had barely enough space to jostle one another.
Roshit had squeezed himself into a corner, Varun was struggling to stay balanced while gripping a pole, and Ayaan kept staring at his phone—as if willing time to move faster.
After a while, the three of them got off at their stop. Ayaan immediately pulled out his phone, checked the location on the screen, and said, "It's just 400 meters from here—we'll have to walk the rest of the way."
The road was in terrible condition—potholes everywhere, broken pavements, and puddles scattered in between. The heat and pollution had only made things worse.
There was no escape from the constant noise—just beep-beep, honk-honk, and people yelling all around.
Varun tried to cover his ears. "This place is gonna fry my brain!"
Roshit grinned. "So what? If we're lucky, maybe we'll spot a cutie right here!"
Ayaan let out a quiet sigh. "Just keep walking."
Roshit glanced around in annoyance and said irritably, "Man, we should've just gone to the mall. I don't know what junkyard you guys have dragged me into—this place feels weird."
Varun rolled his eyes in frustration. "If you've got a problem, go back. No one's forcing you to be here."
"Uff! You're acting like you're actually enjoying this," Roshit said, pouting.
As they moved ahead, turning off the main road into a narrow lane, the atmosphere grew even more deserted. Torn, weathered posters hung limply from the walls, piles of garbage lined the edges of the path, and a strange, foul smell lingered in the air.
"Will you two just be quiet? We're here," Ayaan said, checking his phone.
In front of them stood an old, crumbling house. The concrete walls were riddled with cracks, as if they might collapse at any moment. Faded patches of yellow and blue paint clung weakly to the surface, and the door—half-worn red wood—gave off an unsettling, unfamiliar vibe.
Part of the upper floor looked ready to collapse, and the roof was completely missing. A dried-up lemon and chilli charm hung from the doorframe—withered and lifeless.
Roshit pinched his nose. "Man, it stinks here. Just grab that old man's hair and let's get out of this place."
Ayaan stepped forward and knocked firmly on the door—thud-thud. "Is anyone in there? Hello?"
Once… twice… even after the third knock, no one answered.
The air around them grew still—eerily still, as if even the wind had paused.
Roshit leaned closer to the door. "Hey, the gate's unlocked. Let's check inside."
Varun grabbed his arm. "Are you crazy? Don't enter someone's house without permission. This doesn't feel right."
"Ayaan, message the group. Ask what we should do," Varun added.
Ayaan pulled out his phone and typed:
'Sir, we're at the location but no one's opening the door. What should we do?'
The message was instantly marked as read. For a few moments, silence. Then, the typing indicator appeared.
'It's okay. The man inside just lies in one place all day. Just quietly go to him and cut a strand of his hair. He won't even notice.'
The three exchanged uneasy glances. Something about the message felt… off.
Ayaan cracked his fingers and typed again:
'But sir, is it really okay to sneak in like this? What if there's some danger?'
The reply came quickly:
'We've already explored the house—there hasn't been any danger so far. But if you don't want to go in, that's fine. We'll send someone else instead.'
Ayaan held up the screen. "They're saying if I can't do it, they'll send someone else."
Roshit stepped forward. "No way! We've come all this way—no chance I'm leaving without getting paid. If they say it's safe, it's safe."
Without waiting, he pushed the door open. Krrrrr-kiiiiii… The door creaked with a long, drawn-out groan, like it hadn't been touched in years.
Varun peeked inside and muttered, "Well… no turning back now."
Ayaan hesitated. His fingers were cold. A chill crept down his spine.
"Hey Ayaan, why'd you stop? Come inside, quick!" Roshit's voice echoed from within.
Ayaan took a deep breath—and stepped into the darkness.
The three of them had now entered the old house. The entire place was shrouded in darkness, with almost no light coming in from outside. Dust coated every surface. Cobwebs clung to the corners, and lizards darted across the walls.
The ground floor was completely empty—just one large room, and a creaky wooden staircase leading upward.
The walls were painted a faded white, and a photograph hung crookedly on one of them. It showed a man and his two children. The photo was worn with age—its corners torn, and a thin crack ran across the glass frame.
As soon as Roshit looked at it, a strange sense of unease crept in. "How can someone live that long?" he muttered.
"It might be possible," Varun replied. "Back in the day, people did live longer lives. Maybe he's one of them."
Ayaan spoke quietly. "Actually… this man's been here for almost one hundred fifty years. He's sort of a legend around this area. People say, whoever sees him… their day turns bad.
That's why the organization wants to study him. They think his hair can reveal something about his health—or his DNA."
Roshit's expression changed slightly. "Oh. So… will we have to collect blood too?"
"Not now. Just a hair sample. But if they want more testing later… they might send us again."
"Hmm. Got it." Roshit nodded slowly, though a subtle fear had already settled inside him.
Then… a faint whisper echoed through the room.
All three of them fell silent.
Varun turned to Ayaan and whispered, "Did you hear that?"
Ayaan nodded.
A musty, damp scent drifted down from the stairs above—a mix of old clothes and rotting wood, clinging to the air like something long dead.
"Man, this place feels really weird," Ayaan muttered. "Let's just finish the job and get out of here."
"You guys decide whatever," Roshit said. "But I'm not leaving without getting paid."
Without waiting, he stepped forward.
The floor beneath him let out a faint groan, like an ancient door slowly creaking open.
The three looked at each other, then slowly moved toward the staircase.
As they began to climb, the wooden steps groaned beneath their weight. With every footstep, the creaking seemed to echo deeper—like the house itself remembered something.
Their steps echoed through the silence, reaching into corners they couldn't see…
…as though someone—or something—was listening.
As soon as they reached the second floor, a strange chill filled the air. A stretch of bare, dusty floor lay ahead—beyond it, a single room. The room had no door, and the darkness within stirred a quiet, crawling restlessness in them.
"Man, this place feels really off," Roshit whispered. "What do we do now?"
"It's the only room left," Varun replied. "He must be inside."
The three stepped in cautiously, their movements light and measured. With every step, the wooden floor creaked—creeak… creeak…
Ayaan took the lead. Varun switched on his flashlight, slowly sweeping it across the shadows. The beam of light landed inside the room—and the moment it did, all three of them froze.
An old mat lay on the floor. And on it… someone was lying still, his back to them. Long, white hair spread across the mat like dry silk. His body lay in an eerie stillness—the kind that doesn't belong to the living.
"This is him," Varun whispered.
"Yeah…" Ayaan murmured, his voice trembling slightly.
"Should we wake him?" Roshit asked.
Varun instantly clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shhh… keep your voice down!"
After a tense pause, he whispered, "Let's just cut a strand of his hair and get out of here."
"Ayaan, got scissors?"
Ayaan shook his head and pulled a small knife from his pocket. "No scissors… but this'll work."
"Then hurry."
Ayaan stepped forward, each movement careful. His heartbeat was pounding. The floor beneath him moaned with every step. Reaching the old man, Ayaan held his breath and crouched. He moved the blade forward…
And then…
The old man stirred.
Ayaan froze, paralyzed. His throat went dry. Sweat trickled down his back.
Behind him, Roshit and Varun also stopped moving.
The old man shifted slightly and a deep, creeping fear seeped into the room.
Then, stillness.
Ayaan exhaled slowly. His hands trembled. He reached forward again.
Snip. A single white hair lay in his palm. He stood up and stepped back.
Behind him, Varun and Roshit exchanged glances. They clenched their fists and lifted them into the air with a soft, whispered "Yesss!"
Ayaan turned to smile—
But the moment he saw the color drain from their faces…
That smile vanished.
A strange chill slid across his spine. His hands dried instantly, and a prickling sensation crawled over his neck.
"What are they seeing?" he wondered.
He stood frozen, as if the room had fallen into a void. Slowly, his shoulders tensed.
And then… a sound.
A slow inhale—not angry, not loud… but heavy. Unnatural.
Ayaan turned his neck… inch by inch… And there, lying on the mat…
The old man was awake.
His long, white hair fell over his shoulders. Half of his face was hidden in the shadow of the walls, but his eyes—those deep eyes—they looked like an ocean without a bottom. There was something in them… something that couldn't be understood.
"Wh… who are you?" The voice was so calm, so soft, it didn't even feel like it came from someone who had lived for one hundred fifty years.
Ayaan's throat went dry. His mind went blank for a moment.
"Umm… u-uncle, so… sorry! We… uh… we just came to meet you," Ayaan stammered.
"To meet me?" The old man didn't even move from his spot—just leaned forward slightly. His eyes, however, remained locked—unblinking and unwavering.
"Uh… we're from the Trinity Foundation," Ayaan managed to steady his voice with effort. "We were… we were sent to collect a strand of your hair… so that… so that they can check your health…"
He stayed silent for a moment. Then, in a slow, calm voice, he said, "I don't understand… first tell me this… how did the three of you even find me?"
Ayaan paused for a moment, thinking that telling the truth might be the best choice. "The company… they gave us the location," he replied.
"Company?" the old man slowly tilted his head from side to side, his voice low and puzzled, as if trying to recall a name long forgotten.
"Oh… so they have that much power… enough to find me?"
His words… the way he said them… there was something strange about it. As if all of this was an old story to him—one that had happened many times before.
Varun and Roshit were silent. Completely silent. The old man's lips curled into a strange, unsettling smile.
"Alright, tell me..." he said, "Which one of you three cut my hair?"
Ayaan's heart started pounding in his chest. Varun and Roshit turned to look at him. For a moment, there was complete silence—no one said a word.
Ayaan slowly took a step back. Then he lowered his gaze. His hands were still drenched in sweat.
"I… I was the one who cut it," he said softly.
The old man stayed silent for a moment. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Ayaan," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of nervousness.
"Ah…" the old man slowly straightened his back. One of his hands remained behind him, as if he had not a single worry in the world.
"Nice name," he said. Then... he took a step forward from where he was.
Ayaan's mind screamed: GET BACK! STAY AWAY! But his feet were frozen in place.
The old man came right up close to Ayaan—so close that Ayaan could feel the warmth of his breath on his skin.
And then, very softly, with a faint smile, he whispered near Ayaan's ear— "The way you took my hair without asking…"
For a moment, silence took over everything.
"Ayaan... Just like that, I will take three precious things from you."
In that very moment, the air turned cold.
Ayaan's mind screamed. Every nerve, every muscle in his body shouted just one thing—"RUN!"
"Roshit! Varun! RUN FROM HERE! NOW!!" Ayaan shouted. His voice echoed sharply through the room like a loud blast.
Without a moment's thought, Ayaan turns around and starts running. A terrifying sensation crawls up his back—like someone is still watching him.
Roshit and Varun froze for a moment, but as soon as their minds processed Ayaan's scream, both of them bolted instantly.
That old man's eyes were still fixed on them.
And his smile had grown even deeper.
The three of them ran towards the gate. Roshit anxiously pulled at it with all his strength, his hands slipping with sweat. The gate didn't budge an inch.
"Why isn't this opening?" There was panic in Roshit's voice.
"Move aside!" Varun shouted, not wasting a second as he pulled out his gun. His finger trembled on the trigger. With a loud bang, the bullet struck the gate. But the gate seemed to mock the shot—not even a scratch appeared.
Varun stared at the gate, then at his own hands. His fingers still rested on the trigger, but it felt like all strength had drained from his body. "I-impossible..." he whispered. There was no strength left in his legs.
"W-What do we do now?" Roshit's throat was dry as dust. "H-he's going to kill us!"
Just then, a terrifying, deep voice echoed from above— "Not all three… only you two shall be sacrificed. My Ayaan will remain safe."
All three of their bodies froze at once. Slowly, they lifted their eyes upward. The old man was descending the stairs—surrounded by a thick, dark smoke.
His skin began to tear open, as if a new form was clawing its way out from within. Thick, wet black hair sprouted along his arms and legs.
His fingers thinned and sharpened—nails now gleaming like celestial blades. His mouth split slowly, grotesquely, revealing long, razor-sharp fangs. The glow of his red eyes pierced through the darkness, making even the shadows tremble in fear.
All three of them stood frozen, their feet rooted to the ground like ancient trees.
The air had turned dense—oppressive—as if death itself was walking in with him.
Then… the wolf-like creature leapt in a single bound—and came crashing down on Varun.
Varun couldn't even scream. With a sharp, cracking sound, the beast's fangs tore through the soft skin of his throat. Warm, fresh blood sprayed into the air—and within a second, the ground was soaked in red.
"NOOO!" Roshit's scream was so piercing, it cut through the silence like a blade. Without thinking, he tried to shove the beast away—
but with a single jerk, it leapt into the air like a shadow unchained.
Ayaan's mind went blank for a moment—then instinct took over. He whipped out his gun and fired a shot without hesitation.
"Bang!!" A straight shot. The bullet struck the wolf in the chest. But… as soon as the blood started to spill, its wounds began to heal instantly.
The wolf turned its red eyes towards Ayaan. Its mouth was now filled with blood, and with a strange, cruel smile, it said—"What are you doing? I'm doing all this for you."
Tears started to fall from Ayaan's eyes. If he could, he would stop time right there. But time doesn't stop for anyone.
The wolf leaned forward, tearing into Varun's body with its sharp teeth. The sound of flesh tearing, the crack of bones breaking... everything was so real that Ayaan's breath stopped.
In a corner, Roshit sat, hunched with his head buried in his knees, utterly defeated. His breaths were so rapid, it felt as though someone was choking him.
Ayaan approached him and grabbed his hand. "Roshit! Don't sit here, quickly, get out of here!"
Roshit pushed Ayaan's hand away. There was more anger in his eyes than tears. "THIS IS ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!"
Ayaan took a step back. "H-huh?"
"You were the one who got us into this company! And now, because of you, we're trapped in this deadly situation!"
"No, Roshit! Please, don't say that!"
"SHOULD I NOT SAY IT? YOU'RE THE ONE WHO BROUGHT US HERE!"
Ayaan was about to say something, but Roshit's words silenced him.
"I don't know what that man whispered in your ear. But now I'm sure you're with him. Ayaan, you're a demon. God will never forgive you. Never!" Roshit's words struck deep, and Ayaan's heart felt like it had collapsed. Tears streamed down his face, but even they couldn't hide the weight of his guilt.
"Roshit... why are you saying this?" His voice cracked, as if with every word, his breath was shattering too. "Please, just run away from here."
"Don't cry, Ayaan!" A terrifying, deep growl tore through the air. "HIS LIFE ENDS HERE. AND YOURS BEGINS NOW!" The wolf took a step forward. Its claws left a small crack on the ground. The light from its red eyes fell upon Roshit's lifeless face.
Ayaan's legs were trembling, but his heart swallowed the fear. Just a moment. It was a decision that would be made in a single instant.
He took a deep breath, gathering all his strength, and stood face to face with the wolf.
"Don't you dare lay a finger on him!" He shouts.
The wolf let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "YOU'RE REALLY A FOOL, AYAAN!"
And in the next instant...
"Boom!" The werewolf's hand struck like lightning, and Ayaan was sent flying through the air.
Before hitting the ground, the wall was already waiting for him.
"CRACK!!" Ayaan's head slammed against the wall. A deep gash appeared on his forehead, and a stream of hot, fresh blood trickled down. The red line flowed above his eyes, and the world slowly began to fade behind a crimson veil.
Pain was a spark that had spread through every vein, igniting an unbearable fire within.
But... it didn't matter to him.
A soft sound escaped Ayaan's lips, but his eyes kept searching for the wolf.
Then he saw—the wolf slowly advancing towards Roshit.
"Stop! Please... leave him!" Ayaan's throat was dry, but he swallowed the pain and screamed.
But... the wolf didn't respond.
He simply raised his long, sharp claws...
And for a moment, the world fell silent.
Ayaan tried to lift his hands, but there was no strength left in them. His body was slowly turning cold, as if life was slipping away from him. Blood dripped from his fingers, hitting the ground with a soft tap, tap, tap.
He saw the wolf pounce on Roshit, and one final scream echoed through the air.
Ayaan's eyelids grew heavy. His world slowly sank into darkness and then...
he lost consciousness.
-End of chapter 2