The Forgotten Ritual - Chapter 4

 25th June 2019

The sun blazed overhead, beating down on Riya and Shruti. "Let’s get out of this heat." Shruti said. They both hopped onto Shruti’s scotty, the engine grumbling to life beneath them. The road was narrow and winding, flanked by small houses and dry fields. Riya squinted at the sun-drenched path ahead, her scarf wrapped tight around her face.

"That’s it," Shruti said, suddenly slowing down. "The Chitkin House."

Riya followed her gaze. The house stood alone, just off the main road, half-hidden behind gnarled trees. The structure looked weathered and ancient, the paint peeling, the roof sagging. A black crow perched on the gate, watching them.

As soon as Riya’s eyes met the house, her stomach churned. A wave of nausea swept over her, and her head felt light.

“You okay?” Shruti asked, glancing back.

“Yeah, just the heat maybe,” Riya muttered, pressing a hand to her temple. “Can we just get home quickly?”

Shruti nodded, concern flickering in her eyes. Strange, she thought. She came all the way here to write about this house, and now just seeing it made her sick?

But she said nothing, revving the engine and continuing the ride.

Shruti’s home was warm and welcoming—a stark contrast to the eerie house they had just passed. Her parents greeted Riya with gentle smiles and open arms. Her mother immediately pressed a cool glass of nimbu paani into her hands, while her father asked about the journey.

Riya felt the tension in her shoulders melt.

Shruti showed her the guest bedroom—clean and cozy, with pastel bedsheets and windchimes swaying gently at the window. After a quick freshen-up and changing into cotton kurtas, they gathered around the dining table.

Lunch was simple and delicious—roti, sabzi, dal, and fresh salad. The conversation flowed easily, filled with teasing, laughter, and the occasional nostalgic tale from college.

“So,” Shruti leaned in after clearing the plates, “how’s life back in Mumbai? Still working with Spectra Media?”

“Yeah,” Riya nodded. “It’s alright. Work’s been crazy, and... you know, same old personal drama.”

Shruti raised an eyebrow. “Someone still ghosting you emotionally?”

Riya laughed, but it was hollow. “Maybe.”

There was a pause.

Then Riya shifted gears, her voice low. “What happened here, Shruti? I read about the boy’s death in the reports, but you mentioned things got... strange.”

Shruti’s expression darkened.

She glanced towards the window, as if to make sure no one outside could hear.

“You have no idea,” she whispered.

Shruti leaned back, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of her glass.

“That house… it’s been considered haunted for years. People around here stopped going near it a long time ago. Nothing really happened for a while, so everyone just kind of let it be.”

She paused, then lowered her voice.

“But about a month ago, my mother saw Billu going inside. You remember I told you about him? That weird man who hangs around the village?”

Riya nodded slowly.

“My mom didn’t think much of it. She thought maybe he was just a homeless guy looking for shelter. She never told anyone. She just… ignored it.”

Shruti’s face turned serious now.

“Then, last Saturday, we got the news—one of the kids was found dead inside that house. The others—Billu and the remaining kids—were found sitting in the hall, right where the body was lying.”

Shruti’s voice grew tense.

“My brother said it looked like some kind of accident… or worse—that they all killed him.”

Riya’s breath caught.

“They found… a Ouija board in the room,” Shruti continued, her eyes dark. “It looked like the children had been playing with it. My mother—she’s convinced they summoned something. That the house is no longer just haunted… something’s been called back.”

Riya shivered.

“But,” Shruti added, her tone turning bitter, “my baba and brother don’t believe in all this haunting stuff. They’re convinced Billu and the kids are hiding something. That either Billu—or all of them together—did something, and staged it to make it look like the house is haunted.”

She looked straight at Riya, her voice flat now.

“Either way… the house has woken up.”

Riya leaned in, her curiosity sharpened now despite the unease still churning in her stomach. “Did your brother say anything more? Like... who saw it first? Who called the police?”

Shruti nodded slowly, as if replaying the details in her mind. “Yeah. It was one of lady , Shanta kaki. She was on her morning walk on the same path where the house was when she heard kids screaming from inside the Chitkin House. At first, she thought it was just kids playing around, but the screams... they didn’t sound normal.”

Riya’s eyes widened slightly.

“She got scared. Said it felt wrong. So she didn’t go closer—just ran back home and immediately called the police. She was shaking when she spoke.”

“And when the police came?” Riya asked.

“They broke open the door. Found Billu unconscious, two kids crying in a corner… and one kid, lying there—dead. Right in the centre of the hall.”

Riya’s throat went dry. “How was the kid… how did he die?”

Shruti hesitated for a moment, her eyes clouding with the memory of what her brother had told her. “He had a deep gash on his head. There was blood all over the floor beneath him. My brother said it looked like he’d been hit with something heavy—like a blunt weapon. But there was nothing around. No stone, no rod, nothing that could’ve done that kind of damage.”

Riya stared, stunned.

“And the way he was lying—so still, right in the centre of all those symbols and the Ouija board—it looked... ritualistic. But the police didn’t find any fingerprints or clear evidence. Just those kids, crying and confused. And Billu, passed out cold.”

Shruti’s voice lowered. “And get this—my brother said Billu kept mumbling something when he woke up. ‘She’s angry… she’s here… we shouldn’t have…’ Over and over again.”

Riya felt goosebumps prickle her arms. “She?”

Shruti nodded slowly. “We don’t know who he meant. But whatever happened in that house… it wasn’t normal.”

“All the suspects—the kids and Billu,” Shruti continued, her voice dropping to a hush, “they're all in shock. Haven’t spoken a word about what happened. Just sit there, staring into space. Some of the boys even started crying randomly, like they don’t even remember what they did.”

Riya frowned. “And no one’s talking? Not even under questioning?”

Shruti shook her head. “No. Social welfare got involved the moment they realized kids were involved. The teens were taken into custody but handled gently—counsellors, legal reps, all of that. Even then, nothing. Total silence. Like they’re... blocked.”

Riya looked troubled. “That’s strange. Like something’s stopping them.”

Shruti nodded. “Exactly. My brother says it's the creepiest thing he’s seen in his job. No motive, no weapon, no confession. Just one dead boy, a messed-up crime scene, and a house everyone already feared.”

“And the Ouija board?” Riya whispered. Shruti nodded grimly. “Right next to the body. Along with burnt candles, weird chalk markings… and something that smelled like burnt herbs. It looked like they were trying to do something. Summon something.”

Riya’s brows furrowed. “And what about the kid’s parents? The one who died?”

Shruti sighed, her expression darkening. “They’re shattered. His mother hasn’t stopped crying since. Barely eats. Barely talks. His father... he's been making rounds at the police station every day, demanding answers, but there’s nothing solid to give. He even said they were about to leave the town on Monday and start fresh in a new city.”

Riya leaned forward, tension knotting in her stomach. “Was he stabbed? Beaten?”

Shruti hesitated. “There were bruises. And a deep wound on the side of his head. Police think it was a heavy object—but nothing was found near the body. “God,” Riya whispered. “Did the parents know he was going to that house?”

“No. None of their parents did. They all lied at home, saying they were going to one friend’s or another’s house, so everyone thought they were safe. Nobody suspected they’d sneak into that house. And, surprisingly, nobody in the town saw any of the kids going there.”

Riya’s brows furrowed. “Did your parents know the boy’s family? Or any of the other kids?”

Shruti shook her head. “No. Everyone’s busy with their own jobs and lives. So, no… we didn’t really know them. Just familiar faces you’d pass in the market or see at a festival.”

Riya nodded slowly, processing it all. The town’s silence, the lack of connections—it all added to the weight of the mystery.

Riya glanced out the window, her mind racing with questions. “What about the house itself?” she asked. “Who owns it now?”

Shruti leaned back, crossing her arms. “That’s the strange part,” she said. “No one really knows. The last known owner was an old couple who lived there decades ago. After they died—some say under mysterious circumstances—the house was just... left. No relatives came to claim it, and over the years, it just became that ‘haunted place’ no one talked about.”

She paused, then added, “Some say it’s under government property now. Others think someone bought it but never moved in. Either way, it’s been empty for years.”

Riya took a sip of water, her mind buzzing with thoughts. “When is your brother back?” she asked.

Shruti checked her phone. “He’s on duty until late evening. Might be back around eight or nine.”

Riya hesitated for a moment, then leaned in. “Do you think I could talk to any of the kids’ families? Or maybe someone from the social welfare department? I just… need to understand what really happened.”

Shruti sighed. “That’s going to be tough. The families are in shock. They’re avoiding any talk about the incident, and social welfare has kept the surviving kids under strict observation. No one’s saying a word. Not even to neighbours.”

Riya’s brows furrowed. “And the house? Do you think… I could go there?”

Shruti immediately shook her head. “Alone? No way. It’s still sealed off by the police. And even if it weren’t, Riya, people are scared of that place. It’s not just the murder—it’s what they think was awakened there.”

There was a long pause between them before Riya finally whispered, “Then I have to find a way.”

Riya exhaled, brushing her hair back. “I need this for the story, Shruti. I need to know what happened—just a little more information so I can write it down properly.

Shruti looked at her for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I’ll try to talk to my brother when he’s back.

Riya sighed, standing up and stretching her arms. “Fine,” she said, brushing the wrinkles off her kurta. “Till then, we can go around town, ask people about the house and what they remember. Local stories, sightings—anything. It’s for the blog, let’s get ready.”

Shruti shot her a sharp look. “Riya, look… everything is not about the blog,” she said firmly. “Be sensitive. I know you’re here because of your job, but don’t forget—a kid is dead. People are grieving. This isn’t just some spooky story.”

Riya paused, caught off guard. A flicker of guilt passed through her eyes. “I know,” she said quietly. “I’m not trying to be heartless. It’s just… the more I hear about it, the more I feel like something deeper is going on.”

Shruti’s expression softened, but only slightly. “Just… tread carefully, okay? People here don’t open up easily. Especially not about that house.”

Riya nodded, grabbing her notebook. “Careful is my middle name.”

Shruti rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

Riya kept quiet about the dream. It was hard enough to shake off the feeling it left behind, let alone share it with Shruti. She could already hear the scepticism in her friend’s voice—"It's just a dream, Riya. You're overthinking it."

Instead, she winked at Shruti, masking the unease she felt. Shruti shot her a curious glance, but didn’t press her.

They both got ready quickly, informing Shruti’s mother that they’d be heading out to meet people around town. The warm smile from Shruti's mom, the kind smile of someone who’d seen them off countless times before, felt oddly comforting, yet Riya couldn’t shake the lingering tension in her gut.

As they made their way through the dusty streets of the village, Riya tried talking to as many people as possible. Most of them had either heard nothing new or refused to speak about the Chitkin House altogether. The silence was almost deafening. Everyone seemed to have an opinion, but no one seemed willing to share it. Each face they passed held nothing but suspicion, as if the house itself was a curse too heavy to lift.

Riya’s spirits began to sink. She had hoped for some clue, some whisper of truth hidden behind the reluctant silence of the townspeople. But as the hours passed, frustration built within her. It seemed as though every door they knocked on led to the same dead-end.

"Maybe we’re wasting our time," Riya muttered, kicking a small stone along the road.

Shruti, still upbeat despite the dead ends, gave her a reassuring smile. "Not yet. There's always more to find. We'll figure it out." Riya sighed, her thoughts clouded by doubt. She didn’t want to drag Shruti around aimlessly, but something felt wrong about leaving without at least trying to speak with Shanti Kaki.

“Shruti, what about Shanti Kaki?” Riya suddenly asked, the idea surfacing in her mind like a glimmer of hope.

Shruti frowned. “Shanti Kaki? one who called the police ? But… she’s pretty old, and you know you have got the idea by now how people are around here. Not sure if she’ll talk to us.”

Riya’s resolve hardened. “I think we should try anyway. She might have seen something. If she was the first to hear the screams…”

Shruti hesitated, but eventually nodded. “Alright. But we can’t push her too hard.”

With the decision made, Riya and Shruti made their way through the narrow, dusty lanes of the town, following the directions Shruti had given her. The houses around them grew smaller and more weathered, and the air felt heavy with the weight of the past. Shruti led the way, her footsteps quick, but Riya couldn’t shake the unease in her chest.

They reached a small, dilapidated house at the edge of the village. The roof sagged, and the wooden walls were worn, painted in a faded shade of green that had once been vibrant. A small garden, overrun with weeds, surrounded the house, but there were a few patches of wildflowers bravely growing amid the neglect.

Shruti knocked softly on the door, her hand lingering for a moment before she pulled it back. After a few seconds, the door creaked open, revealing an elderly woman with silver hair tied in a loose bun. Her wrinkles told the story of a life lived with hardship, but her sharp eyes still held a quiet wisdom.

Shanti Kaki.

"Shruti, what brings you here?" The old woman’s voice was gentle, but there was something in her eyes—an edge of wariness, perhaps from years of living in a town that feared the unknown.

“We were hoping to talk to you about the Chitkin House,” Riya spoke up, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart. She had no idea what to expect from the old woman. But one thing was certain—this might be their last chance to uncover something significant.

Shanti Kaki’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying Riya before she spoke. “Who are you, child?”

Shruti quickly stepped in, her voice warm but careful. “This is Riya, a friend of mine. She’s a content writer from Mumbai. She’s been looking into the Chitkin House for her work.”

Shanti Kaki looked at them both for a long moment before stepping aside to allow them in. “Come in. But be mindful of your steps,” she murmured, closing the door behind them. The house was dark inside, dimly lit by the light filtering through small, weathered windows. There were shelves filled with old books and trinkets, and the scent of herbs and incense lingered in the air. A low, flickering lamp cast long shadows on the walls. Shanti Kaki led them to a small sitting area with a worn-out couch. She sat down slowly, her frail hands resting on her lap. Riya and Shruti settled on the couch opposite her. Riya wasted no time. “We heard you were the one who called the police when you heard the kids screaming. What exactly did you hear, Shanti Kaki? What did you see?”

Shanti Kaki’s eyes darkened, her lips pressed into a thin line. She stared at them for a long moment before speaking in a low, measured voice.

“I heard the screams, yes,” she began slowly. “At first, I thought it was just the children playing. But there was something about the sound—something that made my heart freeze.” She paused, her gaze faraway, as if recalling the moment. “It wasn’t like normal cries. It was sharp, desperate… almost like a warning.”

Riya leaned forward, her breath catching in her throat. “A warning?”

The old woman nodded, her hands trembling as she clasped them together. “I felt it in my bones. Something was wrong. It was… unnatural. So, I ran back to my house and called the police. I didn’t go any closer. I couldn’t. Something stopped me.”

“Stopped you?” Shruti echoed, confusion creeping into her voice.

Shanti Kaki met her eyes. “The house. It has a presence… something powerful, something dark. I’ve lived here my whole life, and I’ve seen many strange things, but that day… that was different. I felt it.”

Riya’s heart raced. This was it—the first real clue. “What kind of presence?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Shanti Kaki’s eyes grew even darker, her voice barely audible. “A woman. I didn’t see her, but I felt her. She was angry—so angry. And she wanted something. She was reaching out… through the children.”

A chill ran down Riya’s spine. “Do you think… she’s the one behind what happened?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Shanti Kaki closed her eyes for a moment, a shudder passing through her body. “I don’t know. But I know she was there. And I know that house… it’s not just haunted. It’s a doorway.” She paused, her hands trembling as she clasped them together tightly. "I know it's all about your work, but don't go into that house. Things found inside... the children played with it. They've awakened something. Something that was never meant to be disturbed."

Her voice cracked as the weight of her words seemed to sink in. “I’ve been so stressed out since that incident. I can’t sleep… I still hear it.”

Riya exchanged a glance with Shruti, her heart pounding in her chest. The air in the room seemed to grow colder, as though something unseen was pressing in on them.

It was already 7 PM, and Shruti glanced at her watch, a quiet frown forming on her face. “We should be going back home,” she said, her tone thoughtful. “My brother will be back from his shift soon. You can ask him more questions then.”

Riya nodded, her mind still racing with the information they'd gathered. It felt like they were closer to the truth, but just out of reach.

They stood up, exchanging a final look with Shanti Kaki, who gave them a brief, almost reluctant nod.

“Goodbye, Kaki,” Shruti said softly.

“Goodbye,” Riya added, her voice gentle but filled with the weight of what had been revealed. “Thank you so much for sharing what you know. It means a lot.”

Shanti Kaki gave a tired but grateful smile. “Be careful, both of you. The house… it’s not something you should take lightly.”

With a final look at the old woman, they stepped outside. The cool evening air greeted them, the sun dipping below the horizon, leaving the town bathed in an eerie twilight. The streets seemed quieter now, almost too quiet, as if the day’s secrets were settling into the night.

On the way back, the narrow lanes of the town seemed quieter than before. The fading light cast long shadows, and the occasional bark of a stray dog echoed off the walls.

Riya broke the silence first. “Did you see the way her hands trembled when she talked about the children? She wasn’t lying, Shruti.”

Shruti sighed, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. “I know. But she’s old, Riya. We can’t completely depend on her story. It could be mixed with fear, memories… or even imagination.”

Riya looked at her, frowning slightly. “You think she made it up?”

“No,” Shruti replied after a pause. “I think she believes what she said. But that doesn’t mean everything she told us is fact. We need to find more—something solid.”

Riya nodded, though a knot of unease tightened in her stomach. She didn’t want to admit it, but she understood where Shruti was coming from. Still, a part of her couldn’t shake the feeling that Shanti Kaki’s fear was real—and grounded in something far darker than they were prepared for.

hey reached home just as the sky turned a dusky orange. As they walked up the driveway, Shruti noticed the familiar black bike parked neatly near the porch.

“Look, bhaiya is already home,” Shruti said, nudging Riya with a small smile. “Let’s go.”

Inside, the house smelled of fried onions and warm spices. As they stepped through the door, Shruti called out, “Maa! We’re home!”

Her mother appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on the edge of her dupatta. “Go freshen up, both of you. I’ve made nimbu paani—have it when you come down.”

“Okay, maa,” they chorused before heading to their rooms.

A few minutes later, freshly washed and feeling cooler, Riya and Shruti made their way downstairs. As Riya turned the corner into the living room, her eyes landed on a man seated on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

Tall, dressed in a casual grey shirt, his presence was calm but sharp—like someone used to observing without speaking much.

Before Riya could ask, Shruti came from behind and said, “Riya, meet my brother—Inspector Raghav”

Raghav looked up, offering a polite nod, his eyes scanning Riya briefly with curiosity. “You’re the friend from Mumbai, right?”

“Yes,” Riya replied, smiling slightly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Shruti grinned, settling beside him. “She’s the one I told you about—the reason we’re poking around that case.”

Raghav raised an eyebrow but said nothing, as though waiting to hear more.

Riya stepped forward, her voice quiet but firm. “Yes, bhaiya… I really need to know. This story—it’s important for me.”

But Raghav’s expression darkened the moment she finished. His shoulders were already tense, and it seemed like her words were the final thread snapping.

“I don’t have time for this,” he snapped, his voice sharp. “You think this is just a story? I’ve been trying to make sense of something that has no logic, no proof. And I already have seniors breathing down my neck because I can’t show them any hard evidence.”

Riya froze.

Raghav’s voice rose, edged with frustration. “You should just go back to Mumbai. This isn’t a blog post—it’s an active case. I can’t just hand over what little I have to someone writing ghost stories.”

And without waiting for a response, he stormed off to his room, the door shutting behind him with a heavy thud.

The silence that followed was thick. Riya stood there, stunned, her eyes beginning to sting.

Shruti and her mother looked just as shocked.

Her mother quickly crossed the room and placed a gentle hand on Riya’s shoulder. “Beta, don’t take it to heart. He’s not like this. Raghav has been under so much stress lately… he doesn’t even sleep properly. I’m really sorry.”

Riya nodded slightly, but the tears had already welled up. Her hands trembled.

“Shruti, take her to your room,” her mother said softly.

Shruti wrapped an arm around Riya and led her upstairs. Once inside, Riya sat down heavily on the bed, wiping her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” Shruti said, sitting beside her. “He really isn’t like that. He’s just… breaking under pressure.”

Riya shook her head, forcing a smile. “No, it’s okay. He’s right. I shouldn’t have expected—”

“No,” Shruti interrupted gently. “You should care. And what you’re doing matters.

Shruti looked at Riya and said gently, “You’ve already got the story, Riya. What happened after… the internal details about the body, the family—things that never even came out in the media or press.”

She paused, letting the weight of it settle between them.

“Just write about that part. Share what you know. And then… put the question out there on your blog. Ask people—is the house really haunted? Or… is it something made up? Let them think. Let them wonder.”

Riya let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly. Somewhere inside her, a new resolve began to take root—stronger than fear, stronger than doubt.

Riya finally began to calm down. The weight of the day, the confrontation with Raghav, and the heaviness of Shanti Kaki’s words all still lingered in her mind—but Shruti’s reassurance had helped. She took out her laptop and began compiling everything she had gathered so far. Testimonies, whispers, old records—she crafted it all into a preliminary report.

Once done, she closed the laptop and looked at Shruti. “The only thing left now… is the pictures of the house.”

Shruti raised her brows. “Okay. But only from outside. We’re not going in.”

Riya gave her a small smile. “Agreed.”

Later, they both sat in the hall, watching TV. It was already past 9 PM when Shruti’s mother called them for dinner. The mood at the table was quieter than usual, the tension from earlier still hanging in the air like fog. No one brought up Raghav’s outburst.

But after dinner, as they were clearing the table, Raghav walked up to Riya. His expression softer, eyes tired.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low but sincere. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. There’s just… a lot going on. I hope you can forgive me.”

Riya nodded, surprised but relieved. “It’s okay, bhaiya. I understand.”

“I’ll provide you the pictures,” Raghav continued. “The ones that are safe to show—pictures of the house, the ritual setup, and… after we moved the body.”

Riya looked at him, touched by the gesture. “That’s more than enough. Thank you.”

She hesitated for a moment before asking, “Is there any chance… I could visit the house?”

Raghav shook his head firmly. “No. Not until the investigation is officially closed. Please, Riya, don’t go near that house. Whatever’s there… it’s not done yet.”

Riya gave a small nod. “Alright. I promise.”

With the air cleared and smiles returning to everyone’s faces, they all headed to bed. But before Shruti could go to her own room, Riya tugged her hand.

“Sleep with me tonight? We haven’t met in so long.”

Shruti grinned. “You just want to gossip till 2 AM.”

“Maybe,” Riya teased.

Later, as they lay under the covers in the soft glow of the nightlight, Riya turned toward her friend.

“Promise you won’t judge me if I tell you something?” she asked.

Shruti smirked, “Depends. If you tell me you’ve been possessed, I might need a priest.”

Riya rolled her eyes. “I’m serious.”

Shruti’s expression softened. “Okay, okay. Tell me. What’s going on?”

Taking a deep breath, Riya finally said it.

“I came here because of a dream I had on Sunday night…” Riya’s voice was barely above a whisper now, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. “A little boy. He was standing alone… pale… scared. He looked at me with those big eyes, like he knew me. Like he’d been waiting for me.”

Shruti stayed silent, listening intently, her earlier amusement now replaced with concern.

Riya continued, “He said, ‘Please help me… she won’t let me go.’ And then… I saw it. A shadow.”

Her breath caught.

“It wasn’t human. It had no face, just this… towering, pitch-black shape. It came from behind and grabbed him. He didn’t scream. He just looked at me, terrified, as if begging me not to let it take him. But I couldn’t move. I just stood there and watched.”

Shruti shifted closer, instinctively reaching for Riya’s hand.

“And the worst part?” Riya whispered, “I woke up… with tears on my face. It felt so real. Like it wasn’t just a dream. Like someone… or something… was trying to show me something.”

“Riya… it was just a dream,” she said gently. “Your subconscious mind must be playing games with you. You’ve been reading and watching too much about that house, it’s natural for it to creep into your dreams.”

Riya finally turned to face her, her expression still uncertain.

Shruti gave a small smile. “Look, we’ll figure this out together. But don’t let your dreams scare you away from reality.”

Shruti jolted awake to Riya's screams, her heart pounding. She quickly turned to her friend, who was thrashing and gasping in her sleep.

“Riya! Riya, wake up!” she cried out, shaking her gently but firmly.

Just then, the door burst open. Shruti’s mother and father, both already up for the morning, rushed into the room, alarmed.

“What happened?” her father asked, eyes wide. “What was that scream?”

“Riya beta, are you okay?” her mother’s voice was filled with concern as she moved closer to the bed. Her eyes scanned Riya’s pale, terrified face, and something in her chest tightened. A mother’s instinct—deep, unexplainable—whispered that this wasn’t just a bad dream. Something was truly wrong, and it was affecting Riya more than anyone had realized.

Riya shot upright, her breaths ragged and desperate, as if she had been suffocating. Her eyes were wild with fear, and sweat clung to her forehead.

“I-It was inside the house… it touched me… it was choking me,” she whispered through shivers, barely able to form the words.

Shruti immediately pulled her into a hug, holding her tight, rubbing her back gently.

“It’s okay… you’re safe now. I’m here. It was just a nightmare.”

Shruti’s mother didn’t speak. She stood quietly for a moment, watching Riya. There was fear in her eyes too—not from what she saw, but from what she felt. Something unseen… unsettling.

“Take care of her,” she said softly to Shruti, her voice calm but heavy. “She needs rest. But more than that… she needs to be protected.”

Shruti nodded silently, and her parents stepped out, gently closing the door behind them.

But as Riya clung to her friend, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the house had reached out to her.

Even in her dreams.