Journey to Sanjay Van
Soft rays of sunlight filtered in through the metro windows, painting golden streaks across the floor—but to Ayaan, the air inside felt strangely heavy. His fingers tapped restlessly against his phone case, while his mind wandered back to the strange moments from the interview… and the haunting stories of Sanjay Van.
Roshit glanced around briefly, then leaned in and spoke in a hushed voice, "Dude… is it true? Their office is actually in Sanjay Van?"
It sounded more like he was asking himself than Ayaan.
"I mean, people don't even go there after dark…"
He glanced sideways at Ayaan, almost hoping he'd laugh and say it was all a joke.
Ayaan let out a faint chuckle, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah… honestly, even I still feel weird thinking about it."
Varun, ever the mood-lifter, clasped his hands together like a movie hero and declared with mock drama, "Just think of it as an adventure!"
He paused theatrically, eyes wide, as if building up to a twist—
"And if we do run into a ghost… we'll scare the hell out of it! After that, no ghost will ever dare mess with us again!"
Ayaan and Roshit exchanged a glance—then, as if an invisible thread of tension had snapped, both burst out laughing.
"Why would a ghost show up during the day? You're saying such weird things," Roshit said, a hitch in his voice, though his face was still bright with laughter.
Ayaan took a deep breath, holding it for a second before letting it out slowly. The fear that had clung to him like cobwebs finally began to loosen… fading bit by bit.
The Search in Sanjay Van
The sun's rays filtered through the trees, casting a warm glow over the lush jungle landscape. The air carried the light scent of earth, and the area buzzed with life—families strolling, children laughing, and the occasional sharp call of a peacock echoing through the trees.
Varun was already snapping pictures, capturing peacocks and deer as they wandered freely.
Meanwhile, Roshit's attention was elsewhere. His eyes scanned the surroundings, and the moment he spotted a group of girls, a confident smirk spread across his face.
'There's the opportunity—and tradition must be followed,' he thought, fixing his hair and flicking his collar. With a stylish pose, he confidently walked toward them.
The girls were chatting when a confident voice cut through the air.
"Hi, excuse me! Do you know if there's an office here… deep inside the jungle?"
They looked at each other, then at Roshit, surprised.
"My friend got a job here," Roshit said with a sly smile. "We're here to celebrate his first day."
One of the girls, a bit dusky, suppressed a laugh. "An office? In the jungle? Bro, did you come for an interview or a jungle safari?"
Another girl, wearing glasses and slightly chubby, joined in with a playful smile. "I think your friend's totally tricked you. You'll find humans and animals here, not offices!"
Roshit gave a slightly awkward laugh but quickly tried again. "Oh really? Well, no worries. By the way… if it's okay, can I join you all for a walk?"
The girl with glasses raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Why? Weren't you looking for your friend's office? Find that first, then come back and meet us."
The girls burst into laughter.
Roshit froze for a second. His confidence took a hit. With a fake smile, he said, "Oh… yeah, maybe it's somewhere else. Anyway, enjoy yourselves—my friend's calling me."
He turned and walked away quickly, as if the ground had vanished beneath him.
Ayaan and Varun had been watching the entire scene from a distance. They exchanged glances and burst into loud laughter, trying to cover their mouths.
Ayaan waved, "Bro, looks like they don't know anything about the office. Just come back!"
Roshit returned silently. But the moment he heard them laughing again, his face dropped even more. He placed a hand on his head. "Bro… I'm done for."
Ayaan grinned. "If you don't want more embarrassment, let's go find that office. Otherwise, I swear, those girls might chase you out of here."
Varun laughed harder, and Roshit just sighed in defeat.
The sun had softened, and a light breeze stirred the tree leaves, but the faces of Ayaan, Roshit, and Varun were marked by a mix of exhaustion and confusion.
After searching every corner of the park and still finding no trace of the office, they plopped down on a bench. No one spoke. Only the sounds of opening water bottles and heavy breaths broke the silence.
"Ufff…" Roshit exhaled, taking a long gulp. He turned to Ayaan and said, "I'm seriously starting to believe that interviewer tricked you." He gestured to the empty surroundings. "We've searched everywhere, and nobody here even knows about the office!"
Varun, already deep in thought, capped his bottle. "Why don't you just call the interviewer, Ayaan? Ask him directly."
Ayaan hesitated, then said quietly, "Actually… he didn't give me a number."
Both Roshit and Varun turned to him at once. "WHAT?!" Roshit nearly jumped. "Then how did you even get the location?"
"From an email," Ayaan replied softly.
A silence fell between them.
Varun gave him a look. "Bro… you should've gotten his number during the interview."
Ayaan fidgeted with his bottle, nervous. "I forgot. Sorry."
Roshit threw up his hands in disbelief. "Ufff! Now I'm really thinking this whole thing is fake!"
"I'm saying the same thing, Roshit!" Varun agreed.
Ayaan didn't respond. Their words echoed in his head, his thoughts moving in slow motion. Something felt off… like a puzzle with one missing piece.
"So what now? Should we just head back?" he asked, his voice low and disappointed.
Varun checked his watch. "Yeah, no point staying. It's almost 5—the park will close soon."
Ayaan let out a breath, then gave a faint, tired smile. "I really think someone's just messing with me."
But then… something tugged at his mind.
'That's strange…' Ayaan lightly tapped the bench. 'That email felt legit. The interview too..'.
His eyes narrowed, confusion deepening. Something wasn't adding up.
Just as they were about to stand and leave, a voice called out behind them.
"Hey guys, so you're the ones who've been wandering around waiting for me?"
A light smile. A playful tone. Familiar somehow.
All three turned toward the voice.
An older man stood there—wearing dark glasses and holding a grocery bag filled with vegetables. An odd sense of familiarity washed over them.
Roshit leaned toward Varun and whispered, "Who is this?"
Varun replied quietly, "No idea."
Ayaan squinted, trying to place the face. Then it hit him—'a samosa..'.
"Wait! Uncle… you're the one I met during the interview, right?"
The man adjusted his glasses with a grin. "Yes, son! You've got a sharp memory!"
"Ayaan, you know him?" Varun asked, surprised.
The uncle folded his hands with a playful smile. "I was told you three would be coming, so I came to pick you up. Sorry I'm late—I took a nap."
Roshit and Varun stared at Ayaan in disbelief. "So… he actually works here?"
"Yep!" the man said proudly. "I'm the watchman and security guard. I know this whole park inside-out. Come on—let me take you to the office."
Journey Through the Jungle
The three of them started walking with the uncle. As the path went forward, the jungle grew denser. The trees spread their branches above them, almost as if trying to hide them.
"Uncle, don't the people here know about the office?" Varun asked restlessly.
"No, son," the uncle continued looking ahead, "this place has been kept top secret. The public doesn't come down this path."
For a moment, Roshit glanced at Varun, then softly said, "I don't feel right about this, guys. I don't know where he's taking us. You both stay alert, we might end up getting robbed alone."
Varun nodded in agreement, "I say we run away now. I don't trust this guy either."
Ayaan took a deep breath and then said slowly, "What are you both talking about? We're in the middle of the jungle. Where are we going to run?"
The uncle suddenly stopped and looked back at them, "Hey, what are you all fussing about?"
The three of them instantly fell silent. Ayaan, trying to maintain composure, asked, "Nothing, uncle. We just wanted to ask if this office is really here?"
The uncle smiled and quickened his pace again, "Yes, beta, here we are, we've reached."
The three of them stopped in their tracks. In front of them was a place… but it was completely different from what they had imagined.
Ayaan, Varun, and Roshit stared at each other.
Roshit squinted his eyes and quietly said, "Is this the place?"
Ayaan took a step forward, then shook his head in confusion. "This is just a hut."
The hut looked completely old and simple. Walls made of mud and wood, a roof made of grass, and a tiny window that offered just a glimpse into the darkness inside.
Ayaan, Roshit, and Varun looked at each other, as if trying to confirm that this wasn't some kind of prank.
"Uncle, are you messing with us?" Roshit asked bluntly, irritation clearly visible on his face.
"This is just a hut! Why did you bring us here?"
Without saying a word, the uncle reached into his pocket and pulled out an old phone. The screen had tiny cracks on it, as if ready to tell an old story.
"Come on, let's go inside," the uncle said calmly, as if he was completely used to whatever was about to happen.
Roshit immediately took a step back.
"Uncle, we're not going in! We don't trust you—who knows what's inside," he said firmly, his voice full of resistance.
The uncle gave a faint smile, but there was an unfamiliar depth in his eyes.
"Oh kids, don't be scared! It's not what you're thinking. Just step inside once," he said in a mysterious tone.
The three of them were still filled with doubt, their feet rooted to the ground.
Varun folded his arms and said,
"Uncle, anyone would refuse to enter a place like this. How can this be an office? You're definitely up to something. We're leaving!"
The uncle took a deep breath and placed his hand on his head.
"You guys just keep talking!" his voice rose slightly, but there was still an eerie calmness on his face.
Then, He turned on his phone's torch and flashed it into the hut. "Just take a look inside once. You'll understand everything."
Inside was a small room, dimly lit by a little light coming through the single window. On the wall hung an old photo of Lord Shiva.
"See, there's nothing inside that could harm you," the uncle said calmly.
Ayaan was still confused. "But uncle, there's no office inside either. What are we even supposed to do in there?"
The uncle slapped his forehead, as if tired of their constant questioning. "BRO! the office is inside! Just come in first."
Ayaan was hesitant, but his feet slowly started moving forward. Varun and Roshit exchanged a glance, then silently followed behind him.
The uncle also stepped inside behind them. As soon as they entered, he took out his phone from his pocket and opened an app. A glowing button appeared on the screen, as if it was about to unlock a hidden secret.
Without saying a word, he pressed the button.
Suddenly—
The ground began to shake.
A strong vibration, like some heavy machinery had just been activated.
"What's happening?" Varun asked, panicking as his feet began to slip.
All three of them fell down, trying to grab onto walls or anything for support—but there was nothing to hold onto.
Then, it felt like the entire hut had come to life.
Glass panels began rising from the walls—transparent surfaces where their own reflections stared back at them.
Ayaan sucked in a breath. This felt like something out of a horror movie.
The lift began to descend. Slowly, but with a mechanical vibration.
Through the glass, they saw—a wide tunnel leading down to some unknown place.
Roshit's throat went dry. "Where are we going?" he asked in a low voice.
Ayaan touched the transparent walls of the lift with his hand, as if trying to confirm whether this was real or just a dream. "We're all in a lift?" he whispered, still filled with disbelief.
The lift continued to descend, and below, a new secret was waiting for them.
"We've officially entered our organization now, my friends. Be prepared for the challenges ahead," the uncle said with a faint smile, like he was hiding a deeper truth inside.
All three looked at one another, their eyes filled with confusion and a strange, creeping unease.
"What kind of challenges, uncle?" Roshit asked hesitantly. "And where exactly are we going? I'm getting scared."
The uncle suddenly turned, his voice sharp and laced with anger, "You fool!"
His face went dead serious, and he glanced at Roshit with a hint of contempt in his eyes, as if he wasn't used to hearing such questions.
"I already told you—the office is right here. We're going underground via this lift, to where our base is located."
A moment of heavy silence followed.
Then, the uncle stepped closer, his gaze turning sharper.
"If you ask any more useless questions, I'll bury you right here. Got it?"
Roshit's face turned pale. Not a single word came out of his mouth. He just nodded slowly.
Journey Through the First Layer
The lift stopped. With a mechanical hiss, the doors opened. Without looking back, uncle said, "Now we're on the first layer. Here, you'll have to register as employees. Come, follow me. Ask the rest of your questions to the manager. My job was just to bring you here."
Ayaan, Varun, and Roshit followed him without saying a word.
As soon as we got out of the lift, uncle made us sit in a mini vehicle—a compact, metallic, futuristic car that moved smoothly without making any sound. The vehicle moved... and the three of them stared at the place. Floors made of steel, iron walls, automated lights on the ceiling, and sleek glass panels on the side. Automatic doors opened with a silent suction sound.
Ayaan's eyes widened slightly. 'I'm getting Resident Evil or Umbrella Corporation vibes,' he thought quietly.
'How can all this be underground?'
The vehicle stopped.
Uncle opened a door—a futuristic sliding door that opened with a soft vibration.
In front of them was a hallway. On the left, it said: "Manager Room." On the right, it said: "Assistant Room." Straight ahead was a big steel panel with a large image of the Trimurti gods. Slightly religious, but with a modern tech touch.
Ayaan took a deep breath.
'Is this real or a dream?'
Varun and Roshit looked at each other, as if thinking the same thing—'Where have we come?'
All three were silent, but had a thousand questions in their minds.
Uncle took us to another door. Beside it was a face scanner. Without saying anything, uncle scanned his face.
A mechanical voice came from the machine, "Ok, send them."
Uncle pointed toward the door with his hand."Go, all three of you, go inside."
After a small hesitation, Ayaan said, "Yes, sir."
The door opened with a smooth, futuristic click.
Darkness.
Complete blackout.
Ayaan reached out to feel something, but there was only air.
Then a soft mechanical voice was heard.
Lights… ON.
The room lit up instantly. A big, luxurious office. Heavy wooden bookshelves on the walls. A big wooden desk, a leather chair. A table lamp with a warm yellow light. And... a man, Wearing a suit, with a calm, gentle smile.
He softly said… "WELCOME."
Ayaan, Varun, and Roshit looked at him together.
The man pointed to the chairs and said, "You guys must be tired. Please sit down, I'll explain everything."
-END OF THE PREQUEL
Ayaan's eyelids fluttered open. He sat up slowly, his breath heavy—like a weight was pressing down on his chest. Reaching for his head, he winced. The pain wasn't just physical—it was rooted deep inside his heart.
He glanced around.
The same place.
The same house.
But something was off.
A chill breeze drifted in through the cracked window, and a faint mist clung to the glass—like it had rained all night. His heart started pounding. He looked down.
No blood.
No bodies.
Only silence.
His throat went dry. "How is this possible?" he whispered.
Panic crept in. Every corner of the room stared back at him like a memory he couldn't grasp. The table. The chair. The photo. Everything looked untouched. Untouched… and wrong.
"Friends…" His lips moved, but the word barely escaped.
He rose shakily to his feet and searched the room, checking each wall and floorboard. Nothing. No sign of what had happened. No trace of what he felt he had seen.
Tears welled in his eyes—but now they were mixed with rage.
"Was it all a dream? Or is this world playing with me?"
With sudden fury, he slammed his fist onto the table.
Thud!
It rattled slightly. His knuckles turned red. The pain didn't matter.
There was no reason left to stay in that house anymore. He turned around and walked away.
Ayaan now sat in the metro, staring blankly at the floor. His hands rested on his knees, his eyes empty.
A child's laughter echoed nearby. A little boy clutched his mother's hand, smiling. Ayaan looked at them without emotion, as if he no longer belonged to the same world.
"Roshit… Varun…" his lips moved again.
His fist clenched. Anger surged through his veins.
'What was their fault?
They were just starting a new journey too…'
Now Ayaan's steps reached near the gate of Sanjay Van. It was already night. There was a strange chill in the air, as if even the forest had gone silent. He stopped near the hut, and the guard sitting there noticed him from afar—the same old chair, the same guard sitting quietly.
The guard looked at Ayaan's face. His eyes were dipped in a strange calm but there was a storm brewing inside. "Hey, Ayaan, you here?" the guard asked, a little surprised.
Without showing any expression, without a second's delay, Ayaan said, "I want to go down."
The voice was completely cold.
Straight.
The guard stared at his face carefully.
The boy who had come yesterday full of excitement and curiosity, had now turned into a stone made of sorrow and rage.
"Alright, go," the guard said, letting out a deep breath, as if he understood something terrible had happened.
Without stopping, without thinking, Ayaan just kept moving forward.
The lift's metal floor stopped with a faint vibration. The doors hissed open. Ayaan stepped out without hesitation.
His steps were swift, his breath ragged, and each movement radiated a strange, simmering rage. The steel corridors of the first layer—the place that had once filled him with awe—now felt like the walls of a prison. His mind circled one thing: the manager. The questions. The truth. The revenge.
Inside his cabin, the manager was flipping through a newspaper. A trail of cigarette smoke curled in the air. On the laptop screen, security footage showed a boy striding through the corridor with clenched fists and burning eyes.
The manager's brows furrowed. He leaned in. "Something's not right," he muttered under his breath.
A loud slam broke the silence.
The door burst open. Ayaan stood at the threshold, fury practically radiating from his skin. His chest heaved. His eyes, once soft and curious, now blazed with loss.
The manager rose slowly, unsure. Was this the same boy who had nervously entered his office days ago?
"Ayaan... is everything okay?" he asked, his voice steady, but alert.
"NOTHING IS RIGHT!" Ayaan roared.
The words cracked like thunder across the room.
Outside, heads turned. Footsteps gathered. A crowd began to form outside the glass walls of the cabin.
Ayaan's face was red. His fists clenched tight—his whole body shaking like it might explode.
The manager moved carefully around the desk. "Tell me. What happened?"
Tears welled in Ayaan's eyes. His voice broke.
"They're dead…"
A sharp inhale. "My friends…"
Another breath, heavier than before. "My two friends are gone."
The manager's cigarette slipped from his fingers.
"What?!" he gasped. "How?"
"This—" Ayaan snapped. "This is YOUR fault!"
Gasps echoed from the corridor. Some staff whispered; others stood frozen.
"You sent us there… on that mission! You made it sound like just another task. One hair, you said. Just ONE HAIR!"
The manager slammed his palm on the desk. "We didn't know!" he barked. "We thought he was just a man—an anomaly! Not... something else."
He ran a hand through his hair, now clearly panicked. "Wait. That wasn't... he wasn't normal, was he?"
"No," Ayaan growled. "Because of your one mistake... I lost two lives!"
The words cut through the air like glass.
"I'll never forgive you. You have no idea what you've done. I'm done with this place. I'm DONE!"
He reached into his pocket. A ziplock bag. Inside—one white hair. The trigger of everything.
He hurled it toward the desk. It bounced once, landed with a light thud.
"There's your hair," he spat. "I'm quitting. Goodbye."
He turned and walked out. Staff parted like waves as he passed. Some avoided his gaze. Others watched in awe.
The manager picked up the hair slowly, staring at it like it was a curse. Then handed it to a staff member nearby.
"Secure this," he said quietly, his voice like ice.
Then, louder: "Get the field reapers to my cabin. Now."
The staff scattered, heels pounding the floor, leaving behind the weight of Ayaan's storm and a silence no one could shake.
Ayaan took a few unsteady steps, his body trembling with each movement. The pain in his head intensified, like a sharp, relentless force drilling through his skull. His mind was foggy, his vision blurred, but he forced himself to stay upright.
He stopped for a moment, feeling the sharp, stinging sensation again. The dizziness was overwhelming. He reached up, gripping his forehead tightly, trying to steady himself.
"My head... so much blood has spilled," he muttered quietly to himself. His breath was shallow, ragged.
He glanced around, the streetlights casting long shadows, but there was no one in sight. He knew he needed help, but it was so far out of his reach right now. "I need to wrap it... fast," he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice.
His thoughts raced, but the pain in his head made it hard to focus.
Ayaan gently touched his head with his hand. His heart was racing, and his chest was rising and falling quickly. There was a strange glimmer in his eyes, as if he couldn't understand what was happening.
"What... what's going on?" Ayaan said to himself, slowly placing his hand on his head again, trying to feel for any injury. But nothing.
There was no wound. No blood, no injury—everything seemed to have completely vanished. Just a slight exhaustion, a little sweat that seemed to erase even his innocence. Ayaan's heart began to race, and more questions flooded his mind.
"I remember... I remember the pain, the blood... How can this be?" His voice trembled a little, as if some long-forgotten secret was about to make sense.
Ayaan was completely shocked. The past events started spinning in his mind like a flashback. He remembered—blood was falling... it had even dripped into his eyes, he had felt it. So then, how could this be happening now?
His throat began to dry. A strange sense of unease started rising in his chest. "What's happening?"
"I remember... so much blood was flowing. But suddenly, how did this wound heal? And where is the blood?"
A gust of cold wind brushed past Ayaan, followed by a moment of silence. And then... a voice. A faint whisper came into his mind, as if someone had whispered those words into his ear once again.
"The way you took my hair without asking, in the same way, I will take three of your precious things."
The old man's voice... Every word felt like someone was whispering poison directly into his ear.
Ayaan slowly parted his lips. "Three precious things?"
His feet began to move backward, slowly, as if the ground beneath him was slipping away.
Then another thought struck him...
His two friends...
Both of them were gone...
But what is the third thing?
His steps moved forward, slowly at first, but then they picked up pace. His breath became shallow and rapid. His heart suddenly started pounding faster. A piece of his heart dropped.
"No."
"No, no, no!"
He started running without thinking. His feet slammed against the road, the wind had picked up speed. Dust particles flew in the air, but Ayaan felt nothing. His steps seemed to be programmed for just one place—HOME.
"No... no, no, not her!"
"Nothing can happen to her."
"No."
"I won't let anything happen to her."
Ayaan shouted, his voice echoing through the air.
"Anyaaa!" He screamed.
The door to his house slammed open. Ayaan didn't even take a breath. Each step felt heavier, his heart pounding like it was about to burst from his chest.
"ANYA!" His voice reverberated through the whole house.
But...
Silence.
Completely lifeless, completely cold. There was no response.
Ayaan didn't stop for even a second, rushing straight to the kitchen.
"Anya?" His voice had become soft, as if his heart had given up hope. But still... he called out.
Ayaan stopped at the kitchen door. His feet froze. His breath got stuck in his chest. What his eyes saw... it was his worst nightmare.
A broken chair lay on the ground. Food scattered everywhere, and the floor... it had turned red. And there, lying motionless, was Anya's lifeless body. Deep claw marks ran down her back, where blood was still flowing.
Those same marks... the ones from the wolf. Exactly the same. They were fresh, as if someone had just torn her apart.
Ayaan was completely in shock. He slowly moved toward Anya, his feet collapsing to the ground as his eyes widened. The world seemed to tilt. For a second, everything moved in slow motion. All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing. "No..." His lips parted, but no sound came out.
"No, no, no!"
Ayaan bent down and gently lifted his sister into his arms, his hand resting on her cheek.
Cold. Completely cold.
"No!"
"Anya!"
No movement. No sound.
Ayaan broke down. Tears began to fall like water. Drops of his tears fell onto Anya's face as he held her close, as if he could save her from this harsh reality.
"God... no..."
"Don't take her from me... don't take my sister!"
"Take everything from me... but not her... please!"
"PLEASE!"
He held her tightly, then...
A faint breath brushed against Ayaan. His heart stopped for a second, then began to race.
"She's alive."
"Anya is still alive!"
Ayaan didn't waste a second. He lifted Anya in his arms. Her body was lifeless, but there was still life left in her, and that life, Ayaan couldn't let slip away.
His mind was fixed on one thing—HOSPITAL. "I won't let anything happen to you, Anya."
His voice was broken—anger, grief, and hope collided into an odd mixture.
"I swear, nothing will happen to you!"
He pushed the door open and stepped outside. The wind was sharp, and his eyes burned with anger. His feet moved without thinking.
A bright light hit his face, a rickshaw's headlights. He saw the rickshaw parked right in front of his house.
The driver had a cap on, which covered his eyes. He was sitting and using his phone. Just then, Ayaan rushed up to him and shouted, "GO! Quickly! Take me to the hospital!"
The rickshaw driver glanced back, saw Ayaan's condition, and without asking a word, started the engine.
Ayaan pressed Anya even tighter against himself. "I won't let you go anywhere, Anya. Not in any situation."
The auto was cutting through the wind, but to Ayaan, it felt as though time had stopped. Anya's lifeless body was in his lap.
His hand rested on Anya's cold cheek, but with every passing second, it seemed as though her face was growing colder. "No! No! She should wake up! Bhaiya, drive faster! Hurry!" Ayaan screamed, but his voice was breaking.
The auto came to a halt. Ayaan didn't waste a second; he bolted straight towards the clinic's door. But...
"CLOSED." A red sign hung on the door.
Ayaan stood there for a moment, frozen. "No..." A cold breeze hit his face. "No! How can this be happening?!" He slammed his fist against the door.
"IS ANYONE THERE?!"
"PLEASE, IS ANYONE THERE?"
But all he heard was silence. His own breathing was the loudest sound.
Ayaan turned his head back towards the auto driver. "Take me to another hospital! Quickly!"
The driver didn't say a word; he just started driving the auto again.
The driver sped the vehicle up, and Ayaan's breathing grew heavier, his heart pounding. His mind was racing with thoughts of how to save Anya, but then he noticed something strange—the driver's face. Tears were rolling down his cheeks.
Ayaan wanted to ask him what was wrong, but as he reached to place his hand on the driver's shoulder, the auto suddenly pulled up in front of the hospital.
Ayaan ran to the hospital gates. It was dark now, and the large steel gates stood between him and what felt like his last hope. He grabbed the bars tightly, shaking them, pushing them with all his might. But the gate didn't budge, not even an inch.
"Sir! Open the gate!" he shouted, his voice desperate.
Hearing the commotion, a guard approached and said, "Son, there's no point in going inside. All the doctors have left. You'll have to go to another place."
"What are you talking about? My sister's life is at risk, and you're refusing to admit her?" Ayaan felt like the ground beneath him was giving way. He looked inside—only one light was on, flickering weakly. It was as if the last glimmer of hope had slipped through his fingers.
"I'm sorry, son," the guard said, lowering his eyes.
"Nobody's going to help her?!" Tears welled up in Ayaan's eyes.
Ayaan turned around, glancing at his sister's cold face for a moment. "No... no... someone, please help."
"Someone must be able to save my sister."
Just then, the driver placed his hand on Ayaan's shoulder. "Son, I know a place."
Ayaan immediately lifted his head, his eyes searching for any glimmer of hope.
The driver continued, "She could be alright there."
Ayaan's eyes lit up with renewed hope. "Yes, uncle! Please, hurry!"
The driver didn't look back once. He simply started the auto.
As they drove, Ayaan felt one thing above all— the wind along the road had picked up, growing stronger.
Even though the driver wore a cap that hid his eyes, he drove the auto with remarkable skill.
After a while, the driver stopped the auto. "Here we are," he said.
Ayaan quickly hopped out of the auto, his eyes widening as he saw the unexpected.
"Sanjay Van?"
The same place where it all had begun. The very place he had desperately tried to escape from.
"Why are we here?!" His voice grew sharper, the tension in the air thickening.
"You know, Ayaan, why we're here. Go, take her there. The people there can help," the driver said calmly.
Ayaan stood frozen, his mind racing. Then, the man slowly removed his cap. In that moment, every word Ayaan wanted to say caught in his throat. "Uncle… you?" It was the same security guard.
"Ayaan, quickly, go inside, before it's too late," the guard urged, placing a reassuring hand on Ayaan's shoulder.
Ayaan's mind was in chaos, confusion clouding his thoughts. But he didn't waste a single second. Without hesitation, he rushed towards the lift, taking it to the 1st layer, where everything was about to change.
The lift doors opened, and as Ayaan rushed inside, he screamed, "IS ANYONE THERE?!"
His footsteps echoed loudly, each one heavier than the last. His breaths came out sharp and fast, as if flames were raging from his throat to his chest. "PLEASE! SAVE MY SISTER! SOMEONE HELP! PLEASE!" His voice was so loud, it reverberated throughout the entire layer.
A faint beep of an alarm was heard from somewhere in the distance, followed by the arrival of medical staff. They rushed over and immediately laid Anya on a stretcher. One of the nurses checked her pulse while another gently lifted her eyelids. Ayaan stood frozen, his feet seemingly rooted to the spot, unable to move as they took Anya away.
As the staff moved with his sister, the only thought that consumed Ayaan's mind was— 'I just want my sister back.'
Then, he heard footsteps from behind him, a voice he recognized clearly, "Ayaan, so you've returned." It was a familiar voice.
Ayaan jerked around, his heart skipping a beat. "Manager?"
He looked at him for a moment, then with tears welling in his eyes, pleaded, "Please... save my sister."
"If anything happens to her, I'll never forgive myself." Ayaan sobbed, falling to his knees in front of the manager, almost begging him.
The manager stared at him for a moment, then reached out to try and comfort him. "Get up, Ayaan. Don't cry." His voice was calm, but there was something hidden beneath his words.
Ayaan moved back, but only slightly. The manager gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I take full responsibility for your sister's life. I won't let anything happen to her."
Hearing those words brought a little comfort to Ayaan's heart, and his face softened, a faint smile breaking through. He wiped his tears and said, "Thank you so much."
The manager placed both hands on Ayaan's shoulders and smiled back at him. Ayaan felt like he was being reassured, like the weight on his chest was being lifted.
But suddenly, the manager shoved him, and the ground beneath Ayaan's feet split open. He fell through, tumbling into a cylindrical, dark space. The fall was hard, and Ayaan hit the ground on his back, but luckily, he wasn't injured. The space was small, dark, and cramped, with no way to see around him.
Above, the manager's eyes locked on Ayaan, and he clapped his hands. The cylindrical box Ayaan was in started to rise.
Now, trapped in a transparent cylindrical box, Ayaan hit the sides, desperately trying to get out. "What is this? Let me go!" He screamed in panic.
The manager looked at him with a cold, calculating gaze. "Tell me the truth, Ayaan. Did you hurt that girl?"
"What are you talking about? Why would I harm my own sister?!" Ayaan yelled in anger.
"Until we know the truth, I can't allow you to roam freely like this," the manager said, his hands behind his back. He spoke to Ayaan with a calm demeanor.
"What truth? What nonsense are you talking about? My two friends lost their lives because of you, and now you're keeping me in this cage? You're not even worthy of being called a human, you foolish old man!!" Ayaan shouted, his anger burning through him.
"Say whatever you want, but now you will stay in our containment until we know the truth. Understood?" The manager's voice was cold, and his expression unflinching.
"Old man!!" Ayaan's eyes were locked on the manager in pure fury, but then, suddenly, his head started to spin, and his eyes shut tightly.
"Now, rest for a while, and be ready for the tests," the manager said, turning away and walking off, leaving Ayaan behind.
But someone was watching from behind. A little girl, quietly observing him from the shadows. There was something strange in her eyes, as though she was curious about Ayaan, about him specifically.
-End of chapter 3