2005, Pune, India
The night had no moon.
Darkness pressed against the riverbank, broken only by distant streetlights and the slow, relentless movement of water. His footsteps were heavy and uneven, as if each step required permission from a body that no longer wished to move forward. In his hand was a half-consumed bottle of whisky. In his eyes lived years that refused to stay silent.
"Twenty-six years," he whispered.
The words felt strange in his mouth.
"I have seen too much."
The river flowed on, indifferent.
Without warning, fire returned.
His breath faltered. His vision blurred. The smell of smoke filled his senses, sharp and choking.
Mom.
Dad.
Flames climbed walls. Screams dissolved into heat. A six-year-old boy stood frozen as everything he called home burned itself into memory. The crackle of fire swallowed the world. The warmth that once meant safety turned merciless.
"No…"
His voice broke before it became sound.
"It's not fair."
A tear slipped free and vanished into the dirt.
Then the voices came, as they always did.
A woman's laughter echoed in his mind, sharp and cruel.
"You ate your parents."
Another voice followed, colder, heavier.
"You were never capable of protecting her."
Her.
Priya.
Her eyes lingered on him when her parents questioned him. The silence that followed their words. The way distance grew without argument, without explanation. Judgment disguised as concern.
Was that love.
Or was it only pity wearing a familiar face.
"No family," he murmured.
"No love."
The bottle shook in his hand.
"What is left."
He dropped to his knees. Raised the bottle. Took a long pull, only to find it empty. He stared at it for a moment, hollow recognizing hollow, then hurled it into the river.
Glass disappeared beneath the surface without a sound.
Avi remained seated, staring into the dark water, watching it carry away things that could never truly leave him.
He did not notice the stillness that followed.
The river had stopped whispering.
Somewhere beyond the human world, something shifted. A gate unseen stirred open.
The first soul had been marked.
Slowly, Avi let his back fall against the ground. He stared up at the moonless sky. A few stars flickered weakly, fighting the darkness.
"I wish I could have spent more time with you, Mom. Dad."
His voice was barely there.
"I don't even recognize your voices anymore," he whispered. "Your faces. Your love."
Tears gathered in both eyes and spilled over, soaking into the cold earth beneath his head.
Then everything went black.
Sleep took him without warning.
The wind brushed across his face, gentle, almost caring, as if trying to wipe away his tears. It failed.
Time passed, or perhaps it lost meaning.
Something touched his leg.
Then his arm.
A pull.
He stirred, half-conscious, confused, until the ground vanished beneath him.
Cold swallowed his body.
Water closed over his face.
He was being dragged.
He tried to scream, but water rushed into his mouth. His lungs burned. His arms flailed uselessly as the river claimed him without resistance.
Shock.
Darkness.
Then silence.
"Avi…"
"Avi…"
"Avinash…"
The whisper slipped into his ears like breath.
He woke with a violent gasp. His lungs clawed for air as he shot upright, heart pounding, sweat cold against his skin.
Mist.
Everywhere.
Thick, endless mist swallowed the horizon. No river. No city. No familiar sky. The air felt heavy, unreal.
Again, the whisper came.
"Avi. Come here."
The voice was familiar.
Too familiar.
Fear crawled up his spine.
He turned slowly, searching.
This was not the riverbank.
This was not Pune.
This was an unknown place.
And something had called him by his true name.
Avi followed the voice through the mist. Each step felt heavier, as if the fog itself resisted his presence. Shapes formed and vanished between twisted trees. Branches bent unnaturally. Leaves stood frozen, untouched by wind. The forest was silent, yet watching.
Then he saw it.
A wooden house stood alone in the middle of the mist-bound jungle.
No path led to it.
No sound came from it.
"This way."
The whisper returned, closer now.
Before he could react, the door creaked open on its own.
Avi froze.
"Who's there," he asked, his voice trembling.
No reply.
Then a roar tore through the jungle.
Deep. Animalistic. Close.
The mist trembled as something massive moved within it.
Another roar followed, louder.
Panic took over.
Avi rushed inside the house and slammed the door shut. He bolted it instinctively and rushed to the window, breath uneven.
Nothing.
The forest stood still again.
Too still.
The roar stopped.
Slowly, Avi turned around.
Darkness swallowed the room in an instant.
"Aaavii…"
The voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere.
"Who… who's there," Avi screamed.
A soft white glow appeared in the air, no larger than a small sphere. It hovered silently, pulsing like a heartbeat. Slowly, it expanded, shaping itself.
A figure emerged.
A woman.
Floating above the floor.
She wore a white saree untouched by shadow. Her skin was dark as night. Her face was smooth and empty. No eyes. No mouth. No features.
Only presence.
She hovered above the furniture, unmoving, watching without seeing.
Avi's legs gave way.
He dropped to his knees without realizing it, his body surrendering before his mind could resist. Fear drained his strength, leaving only acceptance.
The air grew heavier.
This was not a dream.
This was not death.
This was something far older.
And she had finally come to claim him.