Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, painting the hall in muted gold, but the warmth felt fragile, almost mocking in the shadow of their recent chaos.
Yuvaan and Kiara sat on the edge of the sprawling sofa, Kiaan cooing softly in his crib nearby. The air smelled faintly of incense and leftover tension, as if the house itself hadn't exhaled since their return.
Vinod's decision to move to London hung between them, heavy but necessary. "It's… the right call," Kiara said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "We can finally have some peace, at least for a while."
Yuvaan nodded, his eyes scanning the room absently, his hand resting protectively near the Reeva Talwar leaning against the table. And then—something caught his attention.
A shadow moved along the wall. Not a human shadow, but a symbol etched in darkness, flickering like smoke, settling momentarily in a shape he knew all too well.
"Kiara…" His voice tightened. "Look."
Kiara followed his gaze, her brow furrowing. "What… is that?"
Yuvaan's face grew grim. "It's… a warning. The sign of the Salem Seven."
Her eyes widened. "The Salem Seven?"
He inhaled slowly, gathering words as if each one carried weight heavy enough to crush the room. "They're… not like any enemies we've faced before. They're… seven dark forces, cloaked in secrecy and malice. They're connected to hell itself, serving a hierarchy we barely comprehend. Each one is a master of forbidden powers, stronger than most of the supernatural world combined. They—" he paused, his hand tightening slightly on the sword, "—they crown kings, force mortals and magical beings alike into their schemes, and they're… patient. Terrifyingly patient."
Kiara swallowed, the weight of his words sinking in slowly. "So… they've been waiting. And now… they're here?"
Yuvaan's jaw tightened. "Exactly. And this isn't a casual threat. The Salem Seven do not fail. If that symbol is here, it means they're marking us, the house, the child…" He didn't need to finish. Kiaan's tiny coos from the crib made the implication sharper, more personal.
Kiara reached for his hand, holding it tight. "Then we fight. We've survived everything else. We've faced daayans, pishachinis, daakinis… and we've protected Kiaan."
Yuvaan gave a small, tense smile, but his eyes remained fixed on the flickering sign. "This… this is a whole new level. But yes. Together. We face them together."
The symbol pulsed faintly once more, almost alive, as if acknowledging their recognition. And somewhere deep in the forest, shadows shifted in response. The Salem Seven had begun their silent, patient hunt.
And this time, no one was safe.
The family moved through the hallway, suitcases clutched tightly, hearts beating with that fragile mixture of hope and exhaustion. Kiara held Kiaan against her chest, whispering softly, "Almost there… just a little further, baby. We'll be safe soon."
Yuvaan's eyes flicked to the front door, hand hovering near the hilt of his Reeva Talwar. "Let's go," he murmured, low and steady, almost more to himself than anyone else.
Then the door shuddered. A deep, resonant click echoed through the hall, and with a force that seemed to come from nowhere, the door sealed itself. The lock had not turned, yet it held fast.
The family froze, breaths caught in their throats.
A ripple passed through the air. Shadows deepened unnaturally, the temperature dropping, the walls themselves seeming to bend. From that shimmer of darkness, seven figures emerged, cloaked in heavy, undulating black, their presence pressing down like a physical weight.
Vikram and Varun reacted instantly, raising their weapons, hands shaking with a mixture of fear and instinct. But the Salem Seven's gaze alone was enough—feet rooted, fingers stiffened, weapons useless in midair.
Kiara's grip on Kiaan tightened until her knuckles turned white. "No… they can't…"
"They won't," Yuvaan interrupted, his voice low, controlled, yet hard, carrying the weight of unspoken anger. "I won't let them."
The figures moved in eerie synchrony. A haze of shadow and smoke began to coil around Kiara, Yuvaan, Kiaan, and the rest of the family, forming a cage that shimmered as if it had a mind of its own.
Then a voice, calm, deliberate, and chilling, cut through the hall:
"We didn't come for the child," it said, each word deliberate, slow, heavy. "He is irrelevant. We came for the reincarnation. The bloodline of Kaal."
The words hung in the air. The hall seemed to shrink around them.
Gasps escaped—soft, inarticulate sounds—but loud in the weight they carried. Kiara froze, Kiaan burrowing closer to her chest, eyes wide and trusting. Yuvaan's jaw clenched, hands tightening into fists, not from physical struggle but from the sudden storm of emotion inside him.
Everyone turned to look at him, realization dawning slowly, painfully. Shock, fear, disbelief, and a creeping sense of dread spread across their faces.
Kiara whispered, voice trembling yet determined, "We won't let them take him… or you either."
The shadows rippled, swirling closer, thickening as the truth settled in for everyone present. The Salem Seven had not come for the child they had worried about for so long—they had come for Yuvaan.
Time seemed to stretch, each heartbeat loud in the chest, each breath shallow. The family's eyes darted from one figure to another, scanning for weakness, any sign of mercy, but found none.
And in that long, frozen moment, the weight of what was coming pressed down on them all, heavy and inevitable.
To be continued…