Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S4 Ep171: Episode 171: Abandoned Village Horror

Episode Date: June 8, 2024

If you want to take ownership of your health, try AG1 and get a FREE 1-year supply of Vitamin D AND 5 Free AG1 Travel Packs with your first purchase. Go to... www.drinkAG1.com/creepen Tonight’s feature-length tale of terror is ‘I Just Met the Lone Survivor of a Village That Disappeared Over 200 Years Ago.’, a wonderful story By Mandahrk, kindly shared with me via NoSleep and narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission: https://www.reddit.com/user/Mandahrk

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BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon. Abandoned villages evoke a sense of eerieness and unease for several reasons. First, there's the silence that pervades these deserted places. It amplifies any sound, whether it's the creaking of old buildings or the rustling of overgrown vegetation, creating an atmosphere of isolation and desolation. Then there's the decaying structures, with their broken windows, crumbling walls and sagging roofs, serving as haunting reminders of the past lives that once inhabited them,

hinting at tales of abandonment and tragedy. Abandoned villages exude a sense of mystery and melancholy that can send shivers down the spine of anyone who dares to explore their deserted streets, as we shall see in tonight's feature-length story. Now, as ever before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's tale may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. That sounds like your kind of thing. Then let's begin.

I just met the lone survivor of a village that disappeared over two hundred years ago. I felt nothing but utter confusion as I looked at the frail, bespectacled man standing in front of me. A bear attack? I asked again, this time with more emphasis on the name of the furry animal. The man put his hands inside the broad pockets of his lab coat and shrugged. Well, the injuries are consistent with what he told us. But doctor, I interrupted. There's absolutely no way that he ran into a bear in the middle of the desert.

They can't survive in that heat. There shouldn't be any damn bears for hundreds of kilometers in any direction. With all due respect, Mr. Sabu, he sighed. I'm not a wildlife expert. All I know is that I have a patient who is the victim of an animal attacker that I have to treat him. That's it. That's really all that I care about.

How that animal came to be where it was and attack your brother, lies beyond my area of expertise. Yeah, I get it. I'm sorry, Doctor. It's just been a very stressful day for me, I said, running my fingers through my hair. So, um, can I see it? He nodded sullenly.

Although visiting hours are over, we'll let you meet him for a while. But he really needs his rest, so you have to leave when the nurse tells you to, okay. We didn't wait for an answer. Now, uh, if you're not. if you'll please, excuse me. And with that, he was gone,

trotting down the hallway and disappearing around the corner before I could even begin to wrap my head around what he just told me. I peeked through the window of the room to my left and saw my brother lying on his bed, wrapped up in bandages and staring off silently into the distance. For the hundredth time this night, I wondered what exactly had happened to, Luxia, that reduced him to this state.

What was he doing in the middle of nowhere? How did he run into a bear at a place where the average summer temperatures hit 50 degrees Celsius each year? Because again, there should be no bears in the thar desert. I exiled and knocked on the door. Hey! Luxia greeted weekly as I popped my head in. Hey yourself, I replied, and entered the room before plopping myself on a small chair beside him. How are you feeling?

Like a fucking Imotep, he answered, as he burst. into a bout of painful laughter. I couldn't help but smile as a wave of nostalgia washed over me at the mention of the mummy. It felt like just yesterday when the three of us snuck out and bought bootleg V-cdies

of the Brendan Fraser movies and saw them in the common room at the orphanage while trying to hide from the watchful eyes of Sister Mets. I'm not surprised that you did, I said, nodding at his bandaged body and limbs wrapped up in plaster of parents.

So, um, I began to tell you. What happened? He looked away at that, and I saw his eyes begin to water. Do you not want to talk about it? I asked, hoping he would be willing to talk. I needed answers. No, it's fine, he whispered.

You deserve to know. A couple of moments passed as a tense quiet settled between the two of us. So, what happened? I prodded, awkward. I just met the lone survivor from a village that had disappeared 200 years ago. He replied in a matter of fat way. Excuse me, I chuckled nervously. It's going to sound unbelievable.

Still want to hear him? He asked firmly. I looked at him closely, wondering whether he was under the influence of drugs or something. It was just blabbering nonsense. But his eyes were sharper than ever, and he seemed fully alert. so I had little reason to doubt him. I nodded, almost imperceptibly, and he launched into the most bizarre story I've ever heard in my life,

turning my brain into a mosh pit of fear, anxiety and confusion as he revealed more and more details of his experience. By the time the nurse came in and kicked me out, I was fully engrossed in the narrative, as fantastical as it was. I felt extremely reluctant leaving the hospital, not because I was leaving my injured breast, rather alone but because the story was still mostly incomplete. I couldn't sleep so I decided to post his story here

even if no one else believes this. I know you guys will. So, here it goes. Lakshya's story, as he told me. I've always been fascinated with Rajasthan. Luxurious palaces, imposing fortresses that stretch far enough to cover a small town. Haunted stepwells, hypnotic dances like

the Kalbalia and Guamar performed by stunning women pirouetting in their ornate lehungas the enchanting wooden puppet song i could spend my entire life discovering the little quirks and mysteries this beautiful sandy state has to offer and still not see everything but by far the one legend and i've been obsessed with my entire life is that of the Kulharah village located about 18 kilometers to the west of Jaisalma near the Pakistani border this time Tiny little Hamlet is said to have been abandoned 200 years ago and has since acquired the reputation of being one of the most haunted places in the country. Its legend has grown famous enough to acquire a life of its own, with the government itself using it to encourage haunting tourism. No one stays in this place after dusk, whether it be tourists or government officials, and even today people from the surrounding villages speak of Koldhara with fear.

Why was this place abandoned? Was it because of an oppressive local ruler who demanded too much in taxes, as the legend proclaimed, or was it something else? I didn't know the answers to those questions, but what I did understand was how incredibly bizarre it was that there was someone from this village with proper documentation to back up her wild claims. She said her name was Koshalia Pollywa. came the whisper of one of my co-workers at SBI Bank, Jaisalma branch. I nodded. That part wasn't at all, surprising. Kulharah, who said to have originally been inhabited by Palatwal Brahmin's. Are you sure she's not just a nut? I asked softly.

She has papers and everything, he replied, white-eyed. I rolled my eyes. All right, send her to my office. At this point, I wasn't taking any of this seriously. There could be a multitude of rational explanations for this. forged documents by an illegal immigrant trying to establish citizenship, someone tormenting a mentally ill woman, and so on. But this might be the real thing, didn't even register as a possibility. Koshalia Palewal was a sickly middle-aged woman,

with such sharp wrinkles it looked like someone had taken a knife and carved them onto her face. I took a sip of my piping hot coffee and studied this strange woman that sat in front of me, nervously fiddling with her palou. How can I help you, Ma? I asked politely. I am from Kudharah, she said in a surprisingly rough voice. I know you don't believe me, but I am, I really am. She started rifling through a tattered old leather bag on her lap. Look, look, she said, frantically waving some papers at me.

I am talking about. I gently took the thin stack of papers from her hand and began to study them. Electricity bills, property papers, voter ID card, Arachar card, all registered to Kudhara, all seemingly original. Now you need to understand that S-SBI employees we regularly check for documentation of customers to provide banking services, not to mention that we were also charged with Ar-Kar-card registration by the UIDAI. when the project was launched on a large scale a couple of years ago, which means that they're quite experienced when it comes to checking the authenticity of such documents. So I can safely appeal to what little authority I have obtained over my admittedly short career

as a probationary banking officer and say that all of those documents seem to be real, not forgeries. This woman was carrying original government documents registered to an abandoned and haunted village. My head swooned at the thought. How? What? I thought aloud. Do you see? She exclaimed.

I am not crazy. It's real. No one believes me, not even the police. They threatened to fire a case against me. For what? I don't know. I told them. I cut off her ramblings.

You are from an abandoned village. One protected by the archaeological survey of India, I asked in disbelief. It's not abandoned, she chided in. I have family there, friends, it's just a normal village, not abandoned or haunted. No, what exactly happened to you, I asked. I, I woke up at my sister's house in Mokla, she replied. It's a village that lies to the east of Jaisalma. I nodded. I'm aware of it. I don't know how I got there, she continued.

I don't even remember going there. I went to sleep next to my husband, but when I woke up I found myself in a strange bed. I screamed, and this woman came running into the bedroom, claimed that she was my sister. I swear I've never seen that woman in my life. You mean you didn't recognize your sister? I inquired.

She furiously showed. her head. She said I've lived with her all my life. She said I never got married, never had kids, refuses to recognize that I have a family of my own. She thinks I've gone mad, but I have these documents. When I woke up, they were just right under my pillow, just like they have been all my life. How did it happen if I'm just insane? Well, those documents could possibly be forge, ma'am. I answered as softly as I could, not believing myself. Why would someone in her position possess such high-quality forgeries if they were, in fact, forgeries at all? My memories are real. My kids. She looked at me, exasperation etched on her face. She stood up,

pulled up her surrey, and exposed her midriff to me. Well, ma'am, this is entirely inappropriate. I spoke hastily. Look at this, look, she said, angrily jabbing at the stretch marks on her belly. Does this look forged too? Tears began to form in her eyes. I carried my children in my own home. No one can tell me they're not real. There was a small, adventurous part of my soul that was almost wanting to believe this woman's tale.

Goosebumps began to form on my body as this woman's conviction pulled me in. in, forcing me to acknowledge her lived reality. Did you try going back? I started to your house. She nodded. I snuck out of my sister's house and caught a bus. She then went silent. It was abandoned, wasn't it?

Her head bobbed again. I don't know where they are. Any of them. I don't know whether they're safe or not. Please, please believe me. She begged, her voice cracked, and she started sobbing. I left the room to give her some space and walked out with my empty coffee cup. Shyam, the co-worker from earlier, found me right as I exited my office.

You speak to her, he asked. Yeah, it's freaky, I admitted. Well, it gets crazier, he said, shaking his head in wonder. I checked the electoral rolls, the Atha database, property records with the Sucreistrar's office. Her name isn't there in any of the databases. Library at the sigh of relief, nay, disappointment. Well, this just proves...

Hold on, let me finish, he said excited me. If you cross-check the serial numbers, you see that all the data just skips over where the entries for her records should be. The databases just jump over those numbers and continue on like nothing happens. Good God Almighty. The coffee cup shook in my hands. Is the boss in yet? I asked, craning my neck to look at the manager's office. Yep, just came in, he replied.

Okay, I said and turned around and walked into my boss's office after giving my cup to one of the cleaning staff. It could be a clerical error, he said when I told him the whole story. The clerical error? Yes. He scratched his beard as he mulled over this strange situation. Maybe a tiny settlement near the actual village got wrongly classified as the village itself. Maybe she's got dementia or something in this, forgotten where her home actually is. What about the missing records in the databases? I counted. There are some problems with the digitization of data, he offered.

I wasn't convinced by that explanation. And a sister who refuses to acknowledge her path? People do strange things for inheritance, including gaslighting relatives, he answered. He wouldn't believe the kind of stuff I've seen in my career. It's not anything supernatural. He added with a smile in his face. Tell me you believe those stories about the village. I have to admit it looks weird, sir, I insisted.

Why don't you check for yourself? he asked. Really? I said, losing my professionalism and letting my chum. like excitement come to the surface. No, why not? I mean, if there is some truth to her story, we would need to make some major adjustments to our data, he explained.

I'll inform the local police station. Of course. I turned around and started to walk out of his office, when he called me. Wait, he said. If she's going to accompany you, you need to take a woman employee along. It's only appropriate.

Oh, I nodded vigorously. and only on the weekend, not on working days, though I'm sure you wouldn't mind. I grinned and excused myself. Kossalia Palewal, was relieved when I told her that I was willing to come with her and visit her home. I saw a flicker of hope in her eyes when she saw that there was someone willing to be on her side. I admit it, I wasn't entirely convinced by her story, but the prospect of finally exploring Kulhara was too good of an opportunity to pass up. When she left my office, I pulled out my phone and called my brother, asked him.

We quickly answered. Yo, what's up? We're going on a trip this weekend, I stated. Cool, where? he asked. I smiled at how quickly he agreed. This is why I called him and not Savu. Kulahara, I replied. I'm sure you could hear the happiness in my voice.

Oh, finally. He laughed. So, what happened? Why now? I gave him a quick recap of the day's events. He whistled. Well, that is as good of a reason as you can ever get to visit one of the country's most haunted places. Absolutely. Oh, I'll pick you up on Saturday morning then, he said. We're taking my Jeep. I soon said my goodbyes to Asty and said about the task of finding a woman colleague to go along with me for the trip. But I didn't have a woman. much luck. No one wanted to spoil their weekend to go on a goose chase with me. I didn't have to worry much about that, however, because the next morning there were two more strangers waiting for me

at the office, further adding to this strange turn of events. Hi, I am Ritu Megwa. I'm a journalist with the Guardian. She was young, mid to late 20s, and had a small circular birthmark on her neck, just above her collarbone. I took her government-issued press ID, gave it a quick look and handed it back to her. This is my colleague, she said, pointing to the muscular blonde man sitting next to her. Chekhov. Anton Chekhov, he said in a heavily accented voice that gave me a bone-crushing handshake. I grinned.

Ah, my grandma was a big fan of him. He smiled sheepishly. So, what can I do for you two? I asked, jovially. We hear you're going to Kulda. along with a woman who claims to be from there. Ritu answered sweetly. We'd like to come along.

I raised my eyebrow. How did you find out? They looked at each other and then Ritu spoke up. Well, we've been doing a piece on haunted tourism in India. We were actually just at Bancra Fort, so Kulthara was next on our list. So when we found out there was a woman who claimed to be from me, we decided to run with that too.

Sounds great, but I'd need to check with my boss, I said. That's taken care of, Chekhov said, waving his hands dismissively. He was the one who told us about her. Cool, I said, enthusiastically. I guess I'll see you guys on Saturday morning. I blushed as Routu flashed me a charming smile. The rest of the week crawl by painfully slowly. There were times I would just sit and stare at the clock.

waiting for time to go faster and get me to Saturday morning. I passed whatever free time I had going through various news articles about Kulkarah and even read into local and national history of the concerned time period. It was a palpable sense of excitement and anxiety in my stomach as I wondered what we would find that. Well, as long as it wasn't too anticlimactic, I was good. I was still eating my breakfast on Saturday morning when the sound of a persistent high-pitched horn tore through my quiet surroundings. I quickly finished the last bits of my breakfast

and ran to the window. Astig was sitting on the hood of his jeep, grinning at me. Are we fucking going or what? He shouted at me and then turned to his left. Good morning, Mrs. Patah. How are you? I picked up my bag and walked down to the jeep, hearing my neighbour screaming at my brother

for causing a racket early in the morning. asked it grabbed me in a bear hug when he saw me lifting me up off the ground asshole let go i coughed is that any way to greet your brother he asked mock a fence clear in his voice i packed my bag in the back of his maindra thar named after the very desert we were about to head out into and took my place beside the driver's seat after bugling assy belts we were off cutting through the cold December fog and making our way way out to our designated meeting spot on the outskirts of Gaisalma near Kosovo's sister's house. Our little party was already assembled there. Chekhov was drinking tea from a small glass while Ritu seemed to be interviewing Kossalya. There were two more people there. One was presumably the driver of the taxi our journalist friends had hired and the other was Sundar Choha from the archaeological survey of India in charge of the Kaldara village. Hey, good morning.

I gave a general greeting to everyone in the vicinity. This is my brother, asking. Chekhov walked towards him and shook his hat. So his knuckles turned away. Hmm. You sir? I asked it not at it. I can tell. Chekhov said, gruffie.

So, um, are we ready to go? I asked. Mutu signalled at me to give her two minutes as she continued to talk to Korsada. So I strolled towards Sundar. Shah from the ASI. This had better be good, he complained. This is not how I envision spending my weekend. I'm sorry, I apologize, genuinely.

I had no idea you'd be dragged into this. Yeah, whatever, let's just get this over with before my nuts freeze and fall off. I open my mouth to reply, but he was already marching back to his car. We're done, Richard said, right when I turned to look at her. she was smiling and i was fighting hard not to blush again well here's to adventure checkoff said lifting his glass of tea like champagne here here i whispered to myself we climbed into our respective cars and our little convoy set off with the cab carrying ritu koshali and checkoff in the lead followed by our jeep sundar brought up the rear it wasn't exactly an ideal time to be travelling and thick fogs hung in the cold winter air, urging us to abandon the road and go back to the safety of our heaters and quilts. The sun was hidden behind a layer of dense clouds, refusing to come out.

But we pressed on. Nothing could dampen my spirits. I pulled out my camera and flashlight for my bag and checked they were still working fine. I'm hungry, asked Dick said. There's food in my bag and pull it out. I reached to the back seat and retrieved his bag. There was a pie in there. Chocolate. I gave him a piece, and took one for myself. How is it? Did you like it?

He asked, I afraid taking a bite. It's great, I had a pint. So, he began. You liked our pretty little journalist. I almost spat out of the pie. What? He snorted. Come on.

One smile and she turns you redder than a tomato. No, but. I'm just excited about the job. Sure you are, he laughed. About a fucking time you tried to find someone. The asphalt soon gave way to a dirt road as we began to enter the Dhar Desert proper. The wheels of our cars kicked up the sand,

which mixed with a fog floating in the air, forming a strange, hypnotic concoction, making me extremely drowsy. I'd almost fallen asleep when the tires of the car in front of us screeched as the leaders of our convoy swerved and almost ran off the road. What the fuck?

I swore. Astic brought the car to a halt, and we quickly walked over to the taxi. Corselaia was crying fearfully as Ritu comforted her, while it looked like Chekhov was angrily berating the driver. What happened?

Astic asked. Kossalia says she saw something, Ritu answered. Saw what? Her question. She says she's not sure, but he was. was covered in blood.

Ah, because you're fucking drunk, Chekhov screamed. At a time I had and saw the driver looking guiltily at the ground near his feet. And he took me a single whiff to recognize a stench of country-made liquor. What happened here? Sundar joined the conversation. Well, I don't see anything, said I asked it, because he surveyed the area nearby with my flashlight. I should get you fired, Chekhov thundered. all right let's calm down and talk about what happened i yelled and got everyone's attention the cab driver was drunk and had almost driven off the road when he saw an animal or something in front of him koshalia was adamant and it was covered in blood for whatever reason we spent a good ten minutes searching the surroundings but found nothing i must have been a deer asked dick stated looks like it ran off

blood oh shalia said her voice trembling i saw blood rutu tried to comfort her she's just a wacko sundar whispered to me in private this entire trip is a complete waste of my time well it'll be overseen i replied maybe a little too abrupt with checkoff offered to drive the rest of the way and have the driver sit beside him there's no need for that asked he said as he walked toward us. We're already here. He pointed backwards. I squinted and sure enough there it was. Kulhara village grew out of the

sandy ground, looking as much a part of the scenery as the few parched trees looming around it. It was nothing more than a ruin with crumbling brick walls and missing ceilings, as if they'd been blasted away by the winds of time. There was definitely

something off about this. this place. It was a very unsettling feeling creeped its way into my heart as we entered. I've had a thousand eyes watching me, but no matter where I looked, there was no one but us there. Is it as good as you imagined it? asked it muttered. Better, I whispered, so much better. It's quite dark, isn't it? Sundar asked softly. Even with the folly, it's a little too dull. With some strange reason, none of us dared to raise our voices, as if we were all afraid of disturbing something.

But what? I don't know. It wasn't exactly a rational feeling. Here, or Charlie shouted, becoming the first one to break the silence we were inadvertently forcing on ourselves. I saw a standing in front of one of the larger and more intact buildings. This is it. This is my home.

Aastic and I looked at each other, and our party soon walked over towards Kushalia. You had a strange glint in her eyes. "'See?' she said, wildly gesturing at the structure. "'This is the veranda.' She entered the house through the gap where once a door had stood. "'Over there is the kitchen, and there's our bedroom. You see, you see, it is all real.' There was something very creepy about watching her get so deliriously happy about being in a

ruin. Surrounded by utter desolation with an odd glint in her eyes, she looked frighteningly mad. Maybe my boss was right, she really was suffering from delusion. One of us would have to muster up the courage to talk to her, though, and I was contemplating on doing it myself.

But, I never got the chance to, because the next second, everything went dark. When I say dark, I mean it looked like night that suddenly descended on the village. No, it would be more accurate to say that it felt like someone had swished off the sun and sucked up all remnants of light from the world. What the fuck happened? Sundar screamed.

I can't see. Luxia. Plastic shouted. Where are you? Right. Here. I couldn't complete my sentence because at that moment my stomach lurched. It was like I was on a rapidly descending roller coaster or an ever.

elevator in free fall. My legs gave out and I fell to my knees. I heard screams, but that sound was drowned out by a sudden pressure in my ears. I was reminded of being on an airplane. I shut my eyes and rapidly move my jaw to equalize the pressure which cleared with an almost audible pop. I opened my eyes and saw that it was light again. The fog had dissipated and the sun beat down with all its fiery brightness on us. But that wasn't the most bizarre. nothing that happened. Oh no. What just happened? I asked, gingerly rubbing my eyes. I blinked and saw the others, two were slowly stumbling to their feet. I turned my head and what I saw there chilled me to the bubble, making my head feel dizzy. The house we were in seemed inhabited

and like people were still living there, unlike the ruin we'd just seen. Close. It hung from a wire stretched across the veranda. There were wooden carts propped up on the wall to my left. I saw utensils in the kitchen to my right. The walls and ceiling were in good shape, not like they'd been just moments ago. Then I heard shouts coming from the outside, sending shivers running down my spine.

In complete silence, we walked outside the building and saw hundreds of people marching in a rally as hundreds more watched from the sideline. It was a political rally, with participants carrying the posters of the politician Bayron Singh, Shekharwat, who served as the chief minister of Rajasthan from 1993 to 1998, becoming completely irrelevant thereafter before dying in 2010. My blood ran cold as the realization sunk in. I could see the wheels turning in the eyes of the others and saw that they too were thinking the same.

We had somehow travelled at least. at least 20 years back in time, and arrived at a densely populated village that was supposedly abandoned 200 years ago. Like me, are you sometimes short on time? Do you sometimes feel you're too busy to plan healthy meals or prepare anything from scratch? Are you really looking after yourself? Do you find that sometimes you fall back on less healthy habits like caffeine or sugar for your energy rush? Well, when you just need to focus.

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and five free AG1 travel packs with your first subscription. All you need to do is go to drinkag1.com slash cream. Again, that's drinkagg1.com slash C-R-E-E-P-E-N. Check it out now. Part 2. After the suffocating silence that we'd suffer through in the crumbling ruin of a village, the noise of the political rally happening right in front of our eyes

was just deafening in its intensity. Seeing the face of the long-dead leader plastered on the cheap post as fluttering in the blistering hot air was all the confirmation we needed that we had indeed travel back over 20 years in time. time. When the average human mind does not have the requisite tools to deal with such extraordinary changes as quickly as a situation like this demands, so it wasn't all that surprising that our first attempt at verbalising our thoughts when something like this.

What in the actual fuck? whispered someone next to me, who I honestly couldn't tell. My brain was short-circuiting at the moment. This can't be real, I found myself speaking, though it didn't feel like I was meant to moving my mouth of my own volition. Is that what they call an out-of-body experience? It's just a dream, just a dream, just a dream. That was Sundar. I vaguely recognized his nasal voice, with his pitch, raised even higher than normal due to panic and fear. The drummers in front of the rally, who were adding a sense of mirth and celebration to the events, were getting

closer and closer, with the sound of those drums assaulting the ones in my ears sharply, bringing me back to the present. People danced in a manic stupor next to the drums as firecrackers were set off somewhere near them. Truly the most surreal thing I'd ever seen in my life. Excuse me, who are you? Someone behind us shouted loudly. We turned around and saw a younger Kossalia Palawalwal, looking at us with confusion and suspicion in her eyes. Oh yeah, if we've travelled back in time, of course we're going to run into her. The wrinkles were gone as if they've been washed away by youth, and she moved with a certain grace that was missing in her older self.

Al Korsalia, older and greyer, couldn't hide her surprise and gasped audibly. Thank God for Austick's quick thinking. He quickly got hold of her arm and yanked her off at the side, outside of the vision of her younger self. We're journalists, ma'am. Ritchie stepped up from somewhere off to my right and quickly flashed her press ID, here to cover the election campaign. You can't just enter people's homes without their permission,

Korsalia retorted, before slamming the rickety wooden door shut in our faces. That door wasn't there ten minutes ago, I observed stupidly. You mean it won't exist a couple of decades from now? Asterik remarks, visibly shaken. Koshalia next to him. Or it never existed at all. I'm confused. So how exactly did this happen? I asked. Anyone have any ideas? Should we really be discussing this out in the open? Chekhov asked. Let's go find a quiet place to talk. What? No, Sondar exclaimed. What if we miss the chance to go back? What if whatever brought us here happens again and we

just happened to miss the train we don't know how this time travel works plastic pointed out and how long are you going to wait right at someone's doorstep anyway we decided to assemble underneath a giant banyan tree that loomed menacingly over the village from a relatively secluded corner a little off to its side was a giant stepwell or baowli that plunged down about ten or so meters into the ground ornate sculptures were carved into all three levels of the step well I peaked and saw a group of kids laughing and playing in the tank at the bottom so I began anyone wants to make any guesses as to how we

move back in time anyone wants to doctor who this shit well I'm all ears it could be a wormhole of some sort asked he offered well goes dark and sudden pressure on our bodies and bam we're in 1998 we need to tell the authorities, Sundar said. Some scientists somewhere can help us go back to our time, I'm sure. Ah, sure, Sundar. Sounds like a great idea, asked Dickson. Oh, hello sirs. Could you please send us back 20 years into the future? He put his hands up mockingly. Wait, what are you doing? Why are you locking us in the loony bin? Sundar glared at him. And maybe if we leave, we'll miss our chance of going back, Ritu added.

I can see how standing close to that house all the time might be a bad idea, but completely abandoning it doesn't sound sensible to me either. Hmm, time travel, I said wistfully. Damn, we're at the precipice of quite possibly the most important scientific discovery in mankind's history. Do you guys understand how important this could be? The whole world could change. Fuck, I have goosebumps just thinking about it. Let's not lose sight of the fact that something terrible is going to happen to do. this village that'll result in it being abandoned.

Chekhov cautioned. Yes, Kusayla piped in. Please, save my village from whatever terrible thing is going to happen here. Has happened, Astik corrected her. Back in the 19th century, remember. How did that happen? Sunder asked, and Aster shrugged in response. None of us had any reasonable answer to that.

Time travel was extremely. extremely confusing. So, what next? Ritu asked. We need to find a place to stay in, I replied. You also need to keep an eye on Kusaila's house for any possible disruptions in space time. And we need to talk to the people in this village

about anything strange happening here. People disappearing, moving back in time, Arstik added. We split up into groups. Ashtick and I decided to go and talk to Kusaila's husband, who is the village Sarpanch, a head of the elected village government, and find us a place to stay in. Sundar chose to stay and observe Kusaila's house from a distance, while Ritu wanted to go out and investigate.

I'll keep her out of sight, Chekhov pointed at Kusaila. It's best if we don't let people see her. Oh, and keep your cell phone sitting. Don't want people to ask questions about them, either. We were almost at Kusail's door when Asterkoy was to put a hand. hand on my shoulder and stop me. What? I asked. There's something off about those two, Ritu and Cheko.

He replied. I was confused. Why do you think so? Did you see them with us when we emerged in this time period? I didn't, he said softly. They came around the corner. They weren't in the house with us. Really? You seriously did not notice? I had a lot to think about.

I replied defensively. You know, like time travel? Like I said, he ignored my comment. I don't trust those two. They were the only ones who forcibly inserted themselves into this situation, right? Are you saying they brought us back in time? I are, sceptically. I'm just saying they're hiding something.

They've adjusted far too easily to this situation. Just don't trust them blindly, okay? Okay. I've seen the way you look at her, he continued. What? I protested. Oh, don't want me. I know you feel something for her. Don't let your dick overrule your head, he said, accusingly. I won't, I promise.

The look he gave me, told me he didn't believe me at all. All right, let's go. Raman, Paloal, was a rotund man with a bushy moustache and a friendly demean that seemed just. genuine, superficially so, like you'd expect from most politicians. He regaled us with tales of his youth when he walked with J. Prakash Narayan against Indira Gandhi's tyranny, while his younger wife served as tea and biscuits. We tried hard to ignore young Koshayla.

It was too bizarre for us to be in her presence. I've always been a huge fan of journalists, he said, amidst peals of hard laughter. brave people truth dollars if there's anything I can do for your folks just let me know I'll be happy to be of any help we'd appreciate it

if you could help us find a place to stay while we do our work yet I said well you can put up cots in the empty rooms in the Pancha'i office lots of space up there he offered

thank you sir truly Astic said genuinely and Raman Paloal laughed in response By the way, sir, have things been in the village? Anything odd? I asked, learning a quick kick to the shin from Astic. Odd, Raman looked confused. What do you mean?

Oh, have some kids been telling you strange stories? Please don't believe them. There's nothing wrong with this village. It's just a bunch of stories. Mastik and I quickly exchanged a look. Raman Palewal was too. insistent here, further raising our hackles. And we said our thanks to him and left his house,

to find Sundar having an animated conversation with Rathor, Ritu and Chekhov's taxi driver. Holy shit, Astig muttered. Completely forgotten about him. Looks like he came with us too. And he wasn't anywhere near the Palobal residence, was he? I thought this would have pretty much destroyed our theory of a localized wormhole, but it didn't.

We learned that he was sitting in his car when he suddenly started feeling scared, like someone was stalking him from the shadows. So he decided to follow us and ask us if we needed water or something. As he entered the village, he heard our voices, then lost his vision. When he came to, he found himself smack in the middle of the political round. One look at the protesters, and he understood things were terribly wrong, but the actual truth wasn't something he could even have imagined. Now he was hell-bent on leaving the village and heading towards his home.

please sirs he begged with his hands folded and tears running down his face if it is true that we are back in time you have to let me leave my wife and kids might still be alive i can protect them or at least warn them he told us that in early two thousand nine he'd taken his family to hurriedwa for a pilgrimage the bus they were in was traversing the mountainous roads of the himalayan foothills when it went off a cliff he was the only one from his family who'd survived and found refuge from his pain and grief in the bottom, seeing that he had a chance to change his past and had a fire in his belly. We tried to convince him it was a bad idea to act rashly, but he wasn't going to listen. We finally got him to agree to wait for the group to get together and to then make his decision after a round of thorough discussion.

The Panchayat, as the Institute of Rural Self-Government is known in India, had an office bang in the middle of the village, a couple of hundred meters south of the banyan tree where we'd held our meeting after first coming here time had not been kind to this building for where we came from there wasn't even a trace of it left we put our bags in the empty rooms above arranged our cots turning the rooms into two makeshift bedrooms ritu checkoff and koshaila soon joined us there so um you find anything out i asked she nodded of his was attacked by a bear when they were out playing cricket at dusk. A bear? I asked. In the desert? Yeah, she answered. It was dragged off the kid and disappeared into the darkness. But that's not even the strange part.

When his friend came back to the village with a tattered body and bloody piece of his friend's shirt, he found him in front of the school, walking back to his home, not a scratch on his body. Good God! and the kid who was attacked says something similar that it wasn't him but his friend who was attacked and he found him near their school he too had a tattered and bloody piece of his friend's shirt she said ah asked dick grunt i'm gonna get a freaking headache we need to get out of here something's not right here sundar said softly and i could see his body tremble in fear i could somewhat

empathize with that sentiment. We need to be very careful with what we do from now on, Chekhov said. Who knows what we might end up triggering. We are already messing with time simply by being here. And on that wonderful note, our friend Rathor here has something to say. I said, and then told them about what he wanted to do.

That's a terrible idea, Ritu said. I agree, Sundar added. I vote, no. Me too. Chekhov chimed in. Well, that's great and all, but it's not a democracy, I said. And neither is he our slave.

He can make his own decisions. We can only advise him. But it's too dangerous, Retoub protested. Andy understands that risk, Astic replied. He's not a child. He should be allowed to try and save his family. What if we end up putting our own lives at risk? Sundar argued.

Didn't you say we know nothing about time travel? Why should we let him do something this reckless? I feel like we're missing something obvious here, Ritu said. What if he goes and changes the timeline so drastically that our reality just doesn't exist anymore, and we're trapped here permanently? That's possible, I replied. But it's also possible that time travel has nothing to do with how timelines are structured. We just don't know enough, and ambiguity is surely not enough to confine a man against

his own will, is it? The argument continued for a while with Ritu and Chekhov getting more and more agitated, but they ultimately relented. The more disturbed they seemingly got, the more looks Ustick shot at me. I ignored him and focused on the argument at hand. Rathor was in no mood to listen to anything. His mind had thoughts of his family swirling around in it. and nothing else. Looking at him, I was reminded of that old tale of Arjun, who was only fixated on the eyes of his target and saw nothing else in the world.

Astic and I decided to accompany Rathor to the edge of the village when he decided to leave as soon as he could. I walk to the nearest bus stop from here, he said, his eyes wet and a wide smile on his face. Thank you for sticking up for me. Thank you so much. you're welcome asked him

smile back now go save your family I will I'm sorry again for almost crashing the car it was only because I lost them that I picked up alcohol never again

he swore and with that he turned around and walked out into the sunset towards his happy ending or that is what I wished

did happen but it didn't the world is a strange way of fucking us over and making us doubt our decisions in the most hideous manner possible. I would come to regret letting Rathor walk away without voicing my concerns adequately. Rathor never got to save his family. He never got to

understand how or why he ended up where he did. Because the moment he stepped foot outside the boundary of the village, he burst into flame. Part three, my feet moved to their own accord, and I began running towards Rethel before I even realized what I was doing. The dazzling orange flames that licked at his skin, the crackling of his bones and the stench of his mouldering flesh hypnotised me, pulling me in like the pipe-piper. I would have made my own personal contribution to that grotesque display if it hadn't been for Austic. He pulled me back right to the edge of the wooden fence. Stop! He screamed into my ears and he held me back.

Stop! What are you doing? Do you want to die? I stopped. roughly pulled myself free and then put my hands on my knees and threw up on the ground. Our fault. It's all our fault.

I muttered after I was a little calmer. We shouldn't have let him go. We didn't know, asked he replied, as he squatted on the ground next to me and rubbed my back. How could we? None of this makes any sense. We're groping around in the dark here.

I willed myself to look at Rathor again, maybe to confirm that What had happened was real, and not just an hallucination. I wish I hadn't. There was no trace of him. Not even a single fleck of bone or ash was visible. It was like it vanished into thin air. Do you remember how nervous those two were when we suggested letting Rathor walk?

Astig asked. Almost like they knew this would happen. Really? I said. I gasped that he would bring this up. You want to do this now? I don't understand why you refuse to acknowledge basic facts here. He threw his hands in the air in frustration.

It's your gut feeling we're talking about here, not objective facts. Their nervousness might have nothing to do with what just happened here, man, I argued. Everything is fucked enough as it is. Not wanting to alter the timeline is a reasonable position to take. I don't want to accuse them of having nefarious designs when we're all dealing with this shit here. There's no harm in being caught. There's a big difference between being cautious and being paranoid. Luxia.

Fuck. I sighed. Okay, what do you want to do? For starters, we don't tell anyone what happened here, he replied. That's way too fucking dangerous, I protested. What happens if one of them tries to leave this place? We'll stop them, Astic remarked. I want to watch how Miss Reporter and Boris act when we go.

tell them he made it out safely? And Sundaran and Cusalia, don't they deserve to know too? I asked. We'll keep an eye on them, and tell them later if we must. For now, please, keep your mouth shut, he said. I reluctantly agreed, and after taking one final look at the spot where a thore had burst into flames, I followed him back towards the first floor of the Panchayat office that we were using as our lodgings. The smell of freshly cooked food wafed down the wooden staircase, mixing with the smell of charred flesh already swirling around in my nostrils, making my stomach churn. I was not in the mood for lunch at all. There's a Dhabah near the village school, Sundar said, as he offered me food wrapped in a plastic bag. Lunch is from there.

Not hungry, I muttered. So, he's got? Chekhov asked. Yep, Astic answered. and I looked at him. Shikov grunted in response. So, what do you guys want to do after lunch? I asked. I'd like to go out and talk to more people, Ritu replied. Keep investigating till we find out more. I'm going to sleep, Sundar said. Maybe I'll wake up from this horrible nightmare.

I'm thinking for exploring the records here at the Panchayat office, asked Xer said from beside them. Maybe we'll find out something with the local history that'll give us a clue. Will I still be made to stay here? Koshalya asked. Please cooperate, ma'am, Ritu said.

We're still in unknown territory. There was an unspoken, but almost tangible tension in the group as we've silently ate lunched. Astick doubted Ritu and Chekhov, and they sensed that, but didn't say anything. Add to that the stress of the situation, and Rathor's death that weighed heavily on me,

It wasn't a pleasant experience in any way. Afterwards, Asterik and I went down to the Panchayat office, where there were already a couple of people present, going about their jobs without a care in the world. The sense of normalcy being exhibited here in the midst of the insanity that we were going through seemed incredibly jarring. I opened my mouth to ask Asterik what exactly he wanted to do, but before I could say anything, he pulled me off to the side.

I want you to follow Rito. He said, Don't be spotted. Keep a safe distance, but tail her. Find out where she's going and what she's doing, okay? You know, this is a job that you're suited for, I pointed out. What will you be doing in the meantime?

I'm going to distract Chekhov and go through their luggage, he answered plainly. Holy shit, dude. That's a massive breach of trust, I said. I hope you know what you're doing. On the contrary, it may have. help us build trust if I find nothing suspicious. I wasn't entirely convinced by this line of reasoning, but exploring all possible options wasn't exactly a bad idea. So when I heard Ritu's

light footsteps on the rickety stairs, I waited and quietly slipped out of the office and followed her out into the village, hoping that Aastic's suspicions were ill-founded. She was walking with a certain surety, as if she knew exactly where she was going. That made it easy to follow her, since getting spotted would have been much easier had she been meandering around without a goal in mind. Brick houses gave way to temporary mud and wooden structures that looked ready to collapse under their own weight, and the dirt row got narrower and more unkempt as we entered the poorer sections of the village. I watched surreptitiously as she knocked on a tiny dirt-covered shanty with the tin roof and entered after someone welcomed her.

What in the world? I took a couple of steps back and grabbed the first person I found. "'Excuse me,' I said. "'Who lives over there?' I asked, jerking my thumb at the house Ritu had just walked into. "'Oh, there! Don't go there, sir. The shamars lived there,' he replied in a matter-of-fact way. My mouth dropped open at the casual usage of such a casteist slur, but I quickly composed myself and thanked him for the help. Of course, I was in 1998, in a backward rural area, so it shouldn't be a surprise that I was running into casteism and anti-beckoning.

Dalit hatred. It was still a shock to see someone express it in such a blatant manner, but I guess that's just the result of the differences in our respective social environment. Oh, he added. I would especially avoid going to that house, sir. Some of the villagers here believe that the woman who lives there is a witch. A witch, I asked, disbelief clear in my voice. Yes, she hurts people for fun.

I nodded and walked away. intellectually I'd always been aware of lower-casts being targeted with accusations of witchcraft and black magic, and then harass for it, but to experience it firsthand was another matter entirely. I'd up behind a motorcycle parked in front of a house that was situated on the invisible boundary separating the localities of upper and lower-cast people of the village, and began waiting for Ritu to come out. It was quiet for a while before she came out, looking frazzled. I was so close to her that I didn't.

I could see that circular birthmark on her neck and scampered off to a safer distance. My decision was proven right when she walked past inches from where I'd been hiding. After she was but a small dot in the distance, I decided to go to the hall myself. Yes, a middle-aged woman greeted me when I knocked on the flimsy wooden door. What can I do for you? Hi, I'm a friend of the woman who just came by, I said. Ah, that. She smiled gently.

Are you here to convince us to leave this village too? So that's what she was doing. Hmm. Troubling. I already told her this is our home. We can't leave. No, we won't leave. She continued. That's not what I'm here for, ma'am.

I said, thinking quickly. I'm actually writing a report on how Dalits are treated in rural areas. Would you like to talk about it? What can I say that educated people like you don't already know? She said sadly. They don't let us draw water from the village well. We have to walk six kilometers every day to get water to drink. They beat us if we so much as let our shadows touch theirs.

I wouldn't wish our lives on our worst enemies. Where else should we go? No place in this world is safe enough for people like us, especially not places we can afford to go. "'That's unfortunate, ma'am,' I said softly. "'I wish things were different. "'Maybe one day they will be.' "'She smiled sadly at that.

"'Who's that, ma?' came a squeaky little voice from the back. "'Secons later, a short, mousy little girl emerged from the back "'and wrapped herself around the woman's legs. "'And you might be?' I asked. "'She didn't reply, just smiled shyly. "'That's my daughter,' the woman said. said, patting her child on the head. And what is your name, young lady?

I asked politely. Tell him your name, the woman prodig. Ritu, the child said. My name is Ritu Meghu. I noticed the circular birthmark on her neck, and my knees almost gave out. I was pretty much in a trance after that. I don't remember walking away from that house,

though I believe I did excuse myself, I don't remember any of my journey back to the Panchayat office. The next thing I do remember is Aston, gently shaking my shoulders. Hey, he looked worried. Are you okay? Yeah, I said. Yeah, I'm okay. You find anything?

You bet your ass I did, he replied. Spare mags for a pistol in Chekhov's bag. Holy shit, I whispered. He's carrying a fucking gun. Isn't that something? He continued. Why would a journalist from Russia be carrying a weapon all the way here into India on a work trip to a haunted village,

almost like he knew things were going to get a little crazy? You were fucking right. Those two are definitely hiding something, I said. Welcome to the light, brother. So, what did you find? I told him about my running with Rituz. younger self. Arstik took it much better than I had. I had the very least those two knew we were going to be sent back in time. It's the most reasonable assumption to make, he said after he'd

taken a little time to digest what I told him. I have some other theories as well. Like what? I asked. It's possible that she knows what happened to this village, he answered. She may even have lived through it, but unlike Koshaylia, actually knows what happened in his trance. stop it or change it to her wishes. There's also a chance that she triggered the time travel in the first place. The ladder still sounds a little too far-fetched to me. I said, well, it is just a theory. I'm entertaining all possibilities at the moment, he replied. I rubbed my forehead. It wasn't suited for this cloak and dagger stuff. So, what do you want to do next? I asked. Do you want to confront them with what we know. Definitely not, he exclaimed. They have made them cautious and

all the progress we've made would be lost. No, we keep our secrets for now. The rest of the day passed by without any excitement. We were starting to get a little use to our reality. Isn't this strange how the human mind learns to adapt to such extreme changes? It was just bizarre how normally it felt having dinner with the group at the Dhabber while chatting about our lives, like it was an everyday occurrence that we'd travel backwards in time. If it wasn't for the tension between Chekhov and Asty, nothing would have fell out of the ordinary at all. After dinner I chose to walk alone outside,

while the others retired to our makeshift bedrooms. I was playing with a street dog when I noticed Ritu sitting on the roof of the Panchayat office, her legs dangling from the ledge. I waved at her, and she smiled at me, her perfect teeth glittering in the gentle moonlight. I made my way upstairs and found her staring off into the distance, hair fluttering with a soft evening breeze. Hey, I said, and sat down next to her.

Hi, she whispered, and quickly wiped tears off her eyes. Are you okay? I asked. Yeah, she laughed gently. I was just, well, I met a Dalit family today. I nodded. Reminded me of my own childhood. I'm a Dalit too, you know. She continued.

It's horrible how they're being treated. How we're still being treated. Just inhumane. It really is. I'm sorry for being a mess. It's just it brought back so much trauma. I don't really cry like this, you know, she said. It's okay.

There's nothing to apologize for, I insisted. Thanks. Can we talk about something else? She asked. Please. Sure. Did I tell you about the time Asty got caught bursting firecrackers in our principal's office? I asked, with a smile on my face.

And I regaled her with stories from my childhood. The exploits of us three brothers at St. Agnes Boarding School never fails to get people laughing, and she wasn't any different. In turn, she told me about her journey from India to a university in England. The conversation flowed so easily between us. I just felt so connected to her, which is why it was all the more heartbreaking that she was hiding so much from me. We both felt reluctant about ending our conversation, but when it got too chilly, we decided to go back inside and sleep. There had been way too much activity for one day. I fell

asleep the moment my head touched the pillow. It was the cold that woke me up, this bone-chilling feeling that creeped up my bag. What the fuck? Why was it so cold? I rubbed my eyes open, blink rapidly to clear my vision and saw that the window was open and a cold and hot. harsh breeze was assaulting our little safe haven in ways. I distinctly remember closing that window. Who opened it? Maybe Astic was feeling too hot or something, I reasoned, and almost got up to close it when I noticed another presence besides the two of us in the room.

I froze. Who was it? It felt like there was someone else here, next to the foot of my cot. I brought my legs close to me and looked around the room when I heard something shuffling around. I picked up my phone, turned on its flashlight and swept it gently around the room. And that's when I noticed her. It was Corsalia.

She was crawling on her hands and knees. Her eyes glinted maliciously as the light from my phone fell on her and she opened her mouth to scream, her facial muscles tightening in preparation for a sound that never came. Shivers ran down my spine at this strange sight. What the fuck was she doing here? I wanted to scream to throw something at her but just sat there looking at her in terrified silence. Her face frozen in that frightening ritz. She cocked her head to the left and continued to stare at me, her eyes not blinking even once.

She then put her hand on my cot and began to pull herself up. My body still refused to cooperate. It had completely shut down in fear. A glass of the open window shattered with a loud crash, breaking the smell. What the? Astic muttered, half asleep. What was that? I screeched, making Koshalia snarl in anger.

What the f? Astic shouted at he saw the seemingly possessed woman. He jumped and kicked her in the head. She escaped, skittering away like a little spider at an unnaturally fast pace. What just happened? I whispered. He heard Sundar screaming in fear, and Ashtick darted outside to check on him.

I followed him, my leg still shaking in fear. She's crawling on the walls, Sundar exclaimed, his voice trembling as he pointed towards the stairs. Astik dashed downstairs as the others came out of their rooms. What happened? Chekhov asked groggily. Rita came out next, with a blanket wrapped around her. Where's Kashalian?

I told them what had happened. That doesn't make... began Chekhov, before Aston came running back upstairs. Guys, he panted. We might have a problem on our hands. He led us to the window and had us look outside. A huge crowd was gathering some distance away,

with more and more people coming out of their homes like little ants and heading in that direction. Do you think Koshalia is there? I asked. If she is, It could be a major cluster fuck. We quickly put on our jackets and headed outside, joining the people moving towards the crown. What will we do if she's been caught doing something?

Master still shake and Sundar. And what is actually wrong with her? Shut the fuck up, Astic admonished him. Not here, not now. Someone will be listening. I heard people whispering to each other. Their voice is low and serious. Something big must have happened.

I grabbed a middle-aged man close to me. What happened, I asked. Someone died, they say, he replied. Who? I asked. He shrugged. I looked around at our surroundings and started to get more and more scared as I realized we were heading towards Ritu's family's house on the outskirts of the village. I breathed a sigh of relief when, after a couple of minutes, we passed that house by and continued to head outwards before coming to a stop. Who killed him? I heard dozens of variations of this sentence as I pushed my way to the front of the crowd.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw there. Lying on his back, his head facing the sky, and bits of pieces of brain matter leaking out, was the corpse of Sundar Chohar. It was an extremely frightening sight. I imagine it must have been worse for Sundar, who stood staring at his own corpse, with his mouth hanging wide open.

Ah, at four. Look! Someone screamed. It's him. He's alive. I could feel the people around me staring at us. Their gaze is hot enough to sear our very skins. The muttering around us began to grow in intensity

until it started, sounded like a swarm of angry bees. Sundar was oblivious to all of this. He was that fixated on his corpse lying on the ground in front of it. We need to get out of here. Astik whispered. Like, right now. It'll only make us look more suspicious. I shot back.

More than this? He asked angrily. It's black magic. Another voice shouted. We're all going to be killed. Hey, wait, I raised my voice. We're just as shocked as you are, okay. Sundar here was with us the whole night.

I could feel the tension diffuse a little, but not enough. This crowd is. was still extremely riled up. One wrong move, and they'll bring out their pitchforks and torches. Please, everyone, calm down, Chekhov said. Maybe the foreigner did it. This time I saw who shouted. It was a young woman, early twenties maybe.

You need to be silent, Anton, Ritchie scolded at him, her voice cracking. You'll only make this worse for us. Exactly. Give a frightened and angry mob and outside. to evade their anger at and they'll happily go all savage but why was ritsu on the verge of a full-blown panic attack i stick stepped forward and covered dead sundar's face with his jacket while i put my hands on the shoulders of the sundar standing next to me come on let's go i said gently we should call the panchad to disgust this said an old woman from somewhere

behind me what's the need we all know who did it someone's someone's stepped into the circle everyone had formed around the body. It's the witch. It has to be. It was the same person I'd run into while tailing Ritu, the man who would use the castest slur. I warn't you not to go to her, he said, looking oddly smart. No, no, no, Ritou said, looking like she was in her daze. Not like this, not today. It wasn't supposed to be today. Swerp began to pour down her brow.

and she started trembling. Chekhov caught hold of her when it looked like she was about faint, as more and more voices started baying for the blood of her mother. That woman will ruin us all. We need to stop it now. To heal her, burn her. Where is she? Bring her out.

I felt the mob's anger shift. It was now being fully directed at Ritu's mother. They began peeling away from the spot and started making their way towards Ritu's house. He was sobbing openly at this point. It started to dawn on me that she'd known all along that this would happen. That's why she'd tried to warn her parents to leave the village. How that tied in with the larger story of the village's ultimate fate was still beyond. We have to do something, I said.

They're going to kill her. There's no stopping that mob now, Astig replied. We need to leave. Sundar shouted. Enough is enough. We need to call the authoritative. things are way too fucking dangerous. We're in over our heads. We can't, I shouted back, gritting my teeth. Can't do that. Why not? Sundar screamed, frustration seeping into his voice.

Because we'll die if we try to leave, Astik explained. Burst into flames till there's nothing left of this the minute we step outside the boundary of the village. What? Sundar looked aghast. How do you... Rathor? He died, didn't he? But why didn't you say anything? Because of these two, Ashtik said, pointing at Chekhov and Ritu. They knew what would happen if you tried leaving the village,

but they never tried stopping us. And a good man is dead because of some fucking secret they wanted to keep. We have our reasons. Chekhov replied with his head hanging low as he tried to console in an increasingly distraught Ritu. A screech filled with the utmost anguish tore through the night, and Ritu sobbed harder as the vicious cheering of the villagers followed. Please, not today. Oh, God!

What the fuck is happening here tonight? Sundar exclaimed. Ritu, Ritou, Ritou, Chikov said, gently shaking her. We need to move. We can't stay here any longer. Things are out of our control now. We need to go. Wait a second.

Astic said in an accusatory tone, "'You even know how to leave this village? "'Oh, fucking hell!' "'Astic, please,' I pleaded. "'It's not really the time.' "'Something horrific was going to happen to Ritu's family. "'Now was not the time to be picking a fight with her. "'We know how to get out of this situation.

"'Yes,' Chekhov replied, "'but you need to trust us.' "'Trust you, really?' "'Sundas spat bitterly. You really haven't. Last it began again before I cut him off. Wait, I said. Look, the mob was now making its way back to us,

dragging two people along, a man and a woman. I squinted and realized that the woman was Rita's mother, and the man must have been her father. Their clothes had been shredded to pieces, and they were covered in blood. No, Rita sobbed. We need to leave, I said, my heart pounding in my chest.

Do your thing, Shekhov. Take us the fuck out. He nodded and began to forcibly drag Rita away, with her begging and pleading incomprehensibly. Sundar followed them, and I pulled Astick aside. What? he asked. We need to make sure she's safe, I replied. Who?

Ritu, I said. Her younger self. We can't let the mob get to her. What? He looked confused. But she's right there with Chekhov. How can she grow old to be an adult if she gets lynched by the mob here? The timeline is changing.

I spoke quickly. Rita herself said that the lynching wasn't supposed to happen tonight. So what if her younger self gets killed here? And what if Chekhov needs her to help us get out of here? But won't be able to do it anymore when she vanishes into thin air because she was killed decades ago. You're right, he admitted, running his fingers through his hair. You really should be able to do it.

have just asked him while he was still here. I was still thinking about it. Look, now hurry up. The mob didn't come all the way back to us. They stopped about halfway through near an old and gnarled tree. They tied Ritchie's mother to the tree and began raining down sticks and stones on her father when he tried to protest. I averted my eyes. Don't look, don't look. Don't look. We ran away from there, making our way around the mob and towards Ritchu's hands. I soon heard the cracking of wood, tried my heart is to drown out the screaming, to ignore what the implications were, but I couldn't ignore the smell. This powerful, soul-crushing stench I had become intimate with just this morning. I could feel tears

running down my face, but I wiped them off and tried to focus on the mission at hand. She was definitely not with a mob, Bastic said when we came close to her house. So where is she? Let's find out. I replied as I kicked the door open. The house was empty. Fuck, As Dick swore. Maybe she really was with the mob. Should we try and go back to them?

Yeah, we have to try something, I said. We both sped up to jog as we exited the house. Hey! The voice came from somewhere to our left. I turned my head and saw it was Raman Paloal, the village Sarpanch. How did you two get here so fast? He asked.

I was just with you. What? In the world. Astic and I looked at each other in utter confusion. Um, what are you talking about, sir? Astic asked. Well, it's... I didn't hear what he was saying because the next moment the world went dark,

and I lost all sense of sight. Fuck, Astic grinned. It's happening again. Sure enough, I felt my stomach lurched, like I was falling through the air, and intense pressure built up on my eardrumbs. My knees began to tremble and I fell hard on my ass. Then there was a loud pop,

and my vision began to clear again. I got up on my elbows and looked around me. Arstick was a couple of feet off to my side, clutching his stomach. The houses around me looked different, but at first I didn't get how. And then it hit me. They weren't old and broken down in the sense I'd expected them to be, since I'd assume Chekhov had brought us back to December 2019, but no.

These houses were all made of mud and bricks. Not a single building around me looked like it had a hint of cement in it. Astic, I whispered. Astic. What? He shouted. I breathed. Keep your voice down.

I think we've come to the 19th century. I believe we're about to find out what exactly happened to this place. What do you mean? he asked, before looking around at the tiny huts all around us, with crack walls and thatched roofs. Holy shit. Exactly. I helped him get up, and we both looked at our surroundings. Wasn't Chekhov supposed to take us back? I asked. Well, these exact words that he'll take us out of here. You didn't say he'll take us back to the present, he replied. So, what do you think happened to this village? He asked. "'Shh!' I whispered.

"'Do you hear that?' "'I was a faint growling sound "'coming from the distance, "'this deep animalistic rumbling "'coming from deep within the chest of something. "'I looked in the direction of the source of the sound "'and sure enough I spotted a large, dark shape, stalking us. "'Is that a bear?'

"'Askie asked in astonishment. "'Let's not wait around for it,' I said, "'and began running away. I could feel that animal's heavy paws pound the sandy ground as it started gaining on us. We ran for our lives, past the place where I'd hid and spied on Ritu, past where the village school would one day stand and towards the spot that the Panchayette office was going to be built upon. To my utter astonishment, there were people lining the streets all around us, standing in disciplined silence and watching us with this identical menacing smile on their face.

I saw black, tar-like tears running down the, their faces as they began to clap, as if they were applauding this performance that we, the bear was putting up. Here, I saw Chekhov in front of me, waving like a madman. I could almost feel that infernal bear's hot breath on my neck, and I ran with even more power as I ran into the house that Chekhov was in, who slammed the door shut as soon as ASTIC was inside. The wooden door shook wildly on its hinges as the bear crashed into it, but mercifully it held. on and just like that the bear retreated for some unfathomable reason I put my hands on my knees and began panting and wheezing someone placed a meaty pore on my back and

helped me breathe I thanked Chekhov as he proceeded to give me a bottle of water everyone was here in this little hovel Sundaw was crouched near the wall on the back while Rita was sitting off to the side deep in thought and in the middle sat Koshang. The one who traveled back with us, with her hands and feet tied, snarling rabidly at us as black tears gushed down her cheeks.

You know? Ashtick said venomously. Some answers right now will be really fucking nice. Is she okay? I asked Chekhov, jerking my chin towards Rita. Here, she's

the cause for this, he replied. Explain. said as you guys saw in 1988 her mother was falsely accused of witchcraft and burned alive while her father was beaten to death he said this traumatized young ritu who with the help of koshalya paliwal and her husband raman paliwal survived the incident she left the village and grew up in jaipur but she never forgot how she'd been treated by the villagers how her family was butchered that night he continued She vowed vengeance. Just didn't know how she'd achieve it.

The chance presented itself when she went to England for her studies and discovered actual witchcraft while trekking in the countryside. She learned the very same craft that her mother had been falsely accused on. Dear God, I said. What did she do? She summoned something. Chekhov replied. We're not entirely sure what, but that thing fed off her hatred and grew immensely powerful.

and wiped out the village to sate her anger and its own loss for violence. But the village is famously abandoned historical sites. How? Astig asked. It's just a theory, but I think that it sent the villages from 2019, when it was summoned, back to the 19th century where they were killed by the then-inhabitants of the village. You had been possessed by the millions of the demon that withdrew summoned. They are the ones we just saw outside.

Chekhov answered. Demons, oh, good God, asked him muttered. She's the one responsible for all of this. Sundar whispered angrily. But how did we come back in time? I asked, ignoring his bio. The demon is bound to Ritu. She can use some of its powers too,

just like it grows stronger by being attached to her. Chekhov explained. Attached to her. I asked. Not physically, he replied, quickly. Ah, fucking leeches, Sundar's spanned. So why did she bring us here? Astig asked.

She didn't, Chekhov answered. The demon did. He wants to wipe us off along with the rest of the village. Tie up the loose ends. Loose ends? What is a demon this powerful have to be afraid of? I wondered. There are predators, fair.

every hunter. The Russian Orthodox Church was aware that a very powerful demon had crossed over to our side. His Holiness, the patriarch of Moscow and Or Russe himself deputed me to investigate the matter. Chekhov replied. So you're a fucking priest? Does that mean you can... I was cut off by the sound of a loud, bone rattling a hall. What the fuck was that? Sundar asked. I picked out of the window and saw something that was so terrifying it froze, the blood in my veins. All the people of the village, the 19th century inhabitants that is, who had presumably killed the ones we'd been living with already, were lined up in front of our heart, hundreds

of them all looking at us and smiling. In front of them was a figure, this tall, naked and hairy man riding a freaking bear. In one hand he was carrying just the longest horn I'd ever seen, and there was a snake wrapped around the other arm. He was wearing a lion's head, like a mask. He cracked the snake like a whip against the bear's hide, who roared in rage, making me shake in my boots. It's him, Chekhov whispered, the one responsible for this.

Can you stop him? Can you fucking stop him? Sundar cried pathetically. Not until I know his name, he replied. I need to force the demon possessing Koshalia to tell me his name while Ritu works on a spell to get us out of him. What do you need? I asked. Time. I need some time. Both of us do, he answered. I look back at the monster outside, this towering, fearsome creature from hell and quickly averted my eyes.

can't even look at this thing. You want us to buy time from him? God, save us. Though I didn't think he was listening. Not when this thing was there. Part five. You really expect us to hold off a fucking army of demons? I shouted, louder than I should have.

It'll only be for a short while, until I can find out their master's name and Ritu can take us out of here. Chekhov replied. I looked at Ritu who was, sitting with her eyes closed mumbling under her breath if she summoned it how is it that she doesn't know its name astic asked it doesn't work like that you don't get to choose who comes across the process is jekhov began and i cut him off enough stop wasting time focus on the

task at hand i ran to the door and put all my weight against it not that it would stop that infernal monster Hastick joined me and we both braced ourselves for the impact to come, but it never did. Instead, we heard the pitiful cries of a man. What in the world? Hastick asked as they peek through the tiny gap between the wooden slats of the door. I saw Rahman Pollywell, looking about two decades older than the last time I'd seen him less than half an hour ago. He was being torn apart by the bear in a leisurely manner. The demon atop it roared in elation as the Sarpanch's entrails freed themselves from their bony prison.

It's putting on a show, I whispered, for Ritu's sake. What is it that you're holding in your hand? I heard Aastic ask. A glance in his direction and saw him looking at Sundar. That's when I heard the footsteps of the bear drawing closer. I could feel the sand shift and sink as the monstrous beast leisurely war. towards us before letting off a blood curdling roar having had its fill of torturing Raman it was now coming to kill us it's just alcohol Sundar replied give me that asked it said and trotted over and snatched the bottle from him I felt warm and

stale air wash over my arms before I heard this rough almost guttural sound of the bare breathing as it pushed its nose against the door Luxia asked Dick said calmly. Open the door when I tell you. What? I said, fear clutching at my heart as I grabbed the door handle so hard my knuckles started to turn white.

Are you crazy? I'll start off with the prayer to Saint Michael. I heard Chekhov say, before he began reciting something in Latin. Princeps Gloriaeisime Caillestis milite.

Saint-Michelangele, Defendin'nos in proelio et colloquiation. Just fucking trust me, okay, Ashtick said, as he tore off a piece of his shirt and stuffed it down the bottle. Oh, God, oh God, oh God, Sundar whimpered. The bear slammed against the door and I almost lost my balance. Dust fell off the door and entered my windpipe, making me cough. I quickly composed myself and pushed against the door as the bear shuffled around in the sand

and crashed into it again, making my bones rattle. Are you fucking ready yet? I yelled at Astik. Tell me the name of your master. Chekhov yelled as Kossalia began screaming in pain. Almost! Ashtick replied as he set the cloth on fire using his lighter.

The bear slammed into the door again, tearing it off its hinges and sending me flying backwards. Its dark silhouette began to slowly enter the room, with the bear softly growling each step. of the way. His name, Chekhov yelled, as Asteak tossed the Molotov cocktail

at the demonic bear. The glass shattered and the flame spread all over the infernal beast almost instantly, before dying just as quickly. But the damage had been done as the bear screamed and stumbled and fell backwards, taking its master down with it. Purson!

Kelshali screamed in a low-pitched, guttural voice before her head exploded, spraying blood and bray matter on everyone in the room making Sundar wail like a banshee my hand throbbed and it felt like I'd fractured something I pushed the door off me and slowly got back on my feet gnashing my teeth together to fight through the pain a high-pitched almost hawk-like screeched tore through the air as I saw the demon standing on the doorway fists clenched in rage I covered my ears to protect myself from the pain as I momentarily

my hearing. This is it. This is how we die, ripped apart by a fucking biblical monster in a village in Rajasthan. Pruson, the hairy demon wearing the head of a lion, stepped foot inside the hovel and was immediately slammed into by Chekhov, and both of them went tumbling outside. A tiny flicker of hope sprang up within me. Could we go toe to toe with this beast? That flame was extinguished just as quickly as it had risen, as Purson struck Chekhov once, knocking the daylight out of the muscular Russian. The demon then walked over to him,

put his foot on the Russian's right leg, and lifted his left leg with both hands. Pruson then looked at us, both Aston and I, who stood frozen in terrified silence, as he cocked his head to the right, as if he was taunting us, and then began to pull.

Chekhov screamed this inhuman anguish-filled sound that no one should ever have to listen to in their lives, as the demon slowly, but firmly, began to rip him into two pieces, from the groin up to his head. His clothes tore first, and his flesh, then we even heard his bones snap into pieces as the demon murdered him in the most brutal fashion imaginable before screeching to celebrate its victory. And then there was silence. Complete silence that stabbed it our very souls, descended over our surroundings as we waited for our impending deaths. Darkness took mercy on us and embraced our cowering selves.

I heard the demons scream once again, but it was distant now, and we felt safe for the first time since this nightmare had started. My stomach lurched, and then there was a pressure on my eardrums, which cleared painfully, but I thanked this pain with everything I had, for this suffering seemed like bliss in comparison to what Chekhov had gone through. And then there was light. I looked up at the bright moonlit sky

and saw the stars nautily shimmering at me. I coughed, rolled over onto my side, and looked at the others. Where are we? asked Dick whispered. I'll scratch that. When are we? Ritu hopped over to me and helped us get up, and I saw Sundar off to the side, dry heaving on the cold sand. "'1998,' she replied softly, "'I'll need to do this again to take us back to 2019.'

"'It's your fault,' Sundar spat angrily. "'You bitch, none of this would have happened if it wasn't for you.' "'She's also the one who's going to get us out of here,' I retorted. "'So cool it.' "'He's not wrong,' asked it grunted as he got up on his feet. "'She forced us into this situation. "'But you're right, Sundar needs to fucking chill.' "'I'm sorry,' she started to cry.

"'I never wanted any of this. "'I thought that I would come back and save my parents. "'None of this would have happened. "'No one would have to die, but I just ended up getting even more people killed.' "'She buried her head in my chest and wept. I consoled her awkwardly as Astered his eyes. So what night is this anyway? Astic asked.

Is it the night your parents were killed? She nodded as she wiped her eyes. It's the one night that has influenced my mind the most. Easy to concentrate on it. Before the lynching or after, he questioned. Before, she answered. Always before. That means her younger self is still here.

and in potential danger of being murdered by the mob, I deducted. Yeah, Ashtik sighed. We need to make sure she survives, while Ritu, you need to get started on sending us back to the present. And the demon, Sunder asked. What about him? We're just going to let him get away. Chekhov was the only one here who was trained to handle that thing, and he was ripped into two pieces. Ashtik answered, exasperation clear in his voice.

You want to fuck with that thing? Be my guest. I'm going to be as far away from it as I can get. Keep your voices down, I cautioned. We are near the Pontchiat office. Our past selves are sleeping right upstairs. Let's not add more chaos to this situation by waking them up. We decided to split up there.

Ruta went into the Panchayette office building and hid in a dark corner and began working on getting us out of there, while the three of us walked out to keep an eye. on her younger self to make sure she survives the events of the night. Do you think we can do what she can't? I asked. Save her family from the mob. Focus on ensuring that her younger self makes it out of this alive. That's it. Ashtick said, don't let your little infatuation get the better of you. I'm not, I said defensively. Look at you, man, he said. We just saw a man get split into two. His blood is still

freaking warm on our clothes, and you're still obsessed with this girl. You don't actually trust her, do you? Sundar asked, his eyes wide. What if she's working with the demon and only brought us here to feed us to it? You saw how distraught she is, I exclaimed. Why didn't she send us back to the present? Why here? he asked, his expression turning more and more manic. I don't fucking trust her. Sundar, buddy, you're a kid. You're a kid. You're a Kay, Ashtick asked, and I looked at him alarmed. What happens if she doesn't survive tonight? Sundar whispered rapidly. If she doesn't grow up, then she doesn't summon a demon at all.

We don't get sent back in time, wake up peacefully somewhere in the present. Or a fucking black hole opens up and consumes us for causing a goddamn paradox, I reply. You need to get a hold of yourself, Sundar, Astic said. We can't afford to fight amongst ourselves. Are you sure you're going to be okay? What's that? Sunda asked, pointing at something behind us with fear in his eyes. I turned around and saw the punch I at office, the one we just come out of, glowing gently under the soft moonlight. Beautiful sight, sure, but it was the window on the first floor that drew my attention.

Near it was a humanoid figure, lashed onto the walls like a terrifying spider. crawling over to the window next to it. It's corshadier, Astic whispered. She's going to enter our room and scare the shit out of you. Ah, yes, I remember that. I was too scared to even move, and I knew that she would have killed me

if the glass window hadn't magically shattered. Oh. So that's how it happened, Astic whistled, as he bent over, picked up a stone and threw it upstairs, breaking our room's glass window. I heard movement upstairs and knew that our past cells were about to wake up. Damn, I whispered, my voice full of awe.

So fucking weird. Sundar chose this moment to scurry off. His footsteps pounded the sand as he ran with all his might towards Ritchu's hands. My brain made the connection almost instantly, like a puzzle piece clicking into its correct position, and I began sprinting after him. He's going to kill, young Riechard. to. Astic must have made that deduction as well, because he was right on my heels as we

almost kept pace with Sundar, who ran like his life depended on it. We ran through the narrow, dirt and garbage riddled streets to this strange village that we become so intimately familiar with as we tried to stop this man from killing our one hope of getting out of him. Sundar's mind had snapped under the weight of all the insanity it had witnessed this night, and he had stopped thinking rationally. He was lashing out like a cornered animal, trying to protect itself in any way it could think of in this manic state, making him extremely dangerous and a major threat to our survival. We knew we had to stop him however we could. He ran past the village school, into the locality inherited by the lower castes of the village, and even past Ritu's house

once he realized we could catch up with him, only stopping once we'd cross the tree that Ritu's mother was tied to and then set on fire. He quickly picked up a rock and swung his hand around wildly, threatened to use the stone as a weapon to bludgeon us to our deaths. Stop! Sundar! I yelled. For the love of God, please stop.

You're working with her, aren't you? He asked, his eyes darting around rapidly. You're going to feed me to that demon. I've seen you talking to her when you think no one is looking at you. You're going to sacrifice me, just like. Rathor. That's not right, Sundar, Lastic spoke, trying to keep his voice calm.

That's not what happened. We only hid Rathor's death because we didn't trust those two. You expect me to believe that. You could easily have told me what happened to him. But you didn't. You might think I'm stupid, but I'm not. You're working for that shamar whore. That's not right, Lastic said.

Don't fucking use that word, I shouted. "'Control yourself, Luxia,' Ashtick told me. "'It is what she is. A fucking Shamar whore,' he spat. Red hot fury erupted from within me, and I charged him, slamming my shoulder onto his gut and taking him down to the ground. I felt a sharp pain on my back as he began slamming the stone onto it. Ashtick joined the fray, trying to help me restrain him as the two of us rolled around on the floor, wildly struggling to get control over the other.

He bit my ear, and I screamed in pain, and that's when Astick caught hold of his hand and put his legs onto it, to get him to drop the stone. But I wasn't aware of it. Anger had taken over every other thought in my brain as I took his head in my hands, lifted it with all my might,

and smashed it onto the rocky ground below him, and again, and again, and again, until blood and brain matter began to leak out of his head. Astic slammed into me and pushed me off him, but it was too late. Sundar's eyes had rolled back into his skull and his tongue hung loosely from his mouth as a lifeless corpse was all that was left of him. I cried tears of anger, frustration and despair. As I realized, I just killed a man.

It's okay, Arstic whispered, patting me on the back. It's okay. It's okay. I killed him. I cried. I killed him. Yes. Yes, you did, he said. But it was in self-defense. No, it wasn't.

I shook my head furiously. I murdered him. I wanted him dead. I killed him. He was going to get us all killed. Astic clarified. What do you think would have happened if he had succeeded in killing young Ritu?

Do you think the demon who started this time ship would just disappeared or let us go? i wanted to protest to counter his argument to get him to punish me for this horrific crime i'd just committed but i couldn't say anything my brain was turning into much we heard shouting in the distance get up the villagers are going to be upon us in any second now we still have a job to do astic said as he helped me get up i followed him listlessly as we ran around the gathering mob and made our way to rito's house the only thing i remember remember from that time is ASTIC walking up to me and telling me she wasn't there. She's not there. Gone to Sarpanch's house. Romalan Khoshael's daughter is friends with Ritu.

He said. I nodded absent-mindedly. It's not all your fault, Asterik said while we were jogging. Some of the blame lies on me too. I was one who decided to hide Rathor's death from the others, forced you to go along with my decision. I held Sundar down while you

just don't blame yourself for it this is an extraordinarily fucked up situation okay i didn't say anything because i didn't know what to say i knew as being a good brother and helping me cope but i just couldn't ask it knocked on the sarpunch's door it's only yesterday we'd stood outside this door when we first came to nineteen ninety eight but it felt like it had occurred eons ago raman paloel opened the door looking shocked as he saw us. What are you doing here at this hour? He asked. Can we come in?

Astik asked as he looked nervously at the crowd heading towards Sundar's murder spot. Ramar nodded and led us in. Where's Ritu? I asked. Ritu Meghaw. She's with Padma, my daughter. Why? What happened? He asked.

Her family is going to be lynched. That's what the mob. was gathering up for, Ashtick explained. We need to get her to safety. No, that can't be right, Ramon said. Surely they wouldn't go that far. I mean, yes, his village has had problems with casteism all along, but not this. Please, Astic begged. We don't have the time. We need to move quickly. What's happening? Young Koshalia asked us as she came out of her bedroom. "'Goshalia, get Ritu and Padma,' Raman said.

"'You're going to your mother's house.' She complied immediately and went to wake up the girls as Raman moved to retrieve his car keys, which he then handed over to his wife, who had the two children now huddled around her, looking scared and confused. "'Go, go, go, Raman said as he bundled them into his car. We could hear the death-throes of Ritu's parents as the car slowly left the village and disappeared off into the darkness. I'm going to check what's happening out there,

Ramon said after Koshalia and the kids had left and walked off towards the mob where he was going to soon run into our past selves outside Ritu's house and get confused as to how we got there so quickly and then terrified when he'd see us disappear. He would take this secret to his grave and I think you'd only begin to understand

what happened here 20 years later when he himself will be sent back in time. to the 19th century by a demon summoned by the young girl whose life he just saved, only to be murdered by the then inhabitants of the village, who in turn would later snap out of their possession and abandon the village after seeing the strange corpses that to them had appeared mysteriously. Cosalika would be the only one to survive from this village, and only because Ritu is going to see her as the one who helped her at that infernal night.

What's taking so long? asked. Huh? I looked at him, confused as I was suddenly brought out of my reverie. Didn't take this long for Ritu to get us to 1998.

What's taking this long now? We looked at each other and ran to the Panchayat office, desperately hoping she was okay. Shivers ran down my spine as we came back to the office where we'd left her. Standing outside the office

was the fucking bear, and the monstrous demons sitting atop it, who led out a heart-stopping screech the moment it spotted us. Part six. It felt like roots had sprouted from the soles of my feet and buried deep underground, locking me firmly to the spot as I saw the bear stalk me, getting ready to pounce. Yet my knees continued to tremble in fear. The snake wrapped around the arm of the demon riding the bear hissed, as its beady little eyes glinted dangerously in the moonlight. We need to make a run for it, Astig whispered, keeping his mouth as shut as possible while still being able to communicate.

Go around the back of the office and run up to our rooms. My head bobbed almost imperceptibly, but one sideways glance at my brother, and I knew he knew I'd heard. Chekhov's gun, upstairs, he whispered, as he took off running, with me hot on his heels. The bear roared, the demon screeched, and the snake. hissed as our infernal tormentors pursued us, trying there hardest to catch us and brutalize us. We ran around to the back of the building, with my neck beginning to get warm with the bear's stale breath, just as I crossed the threshold of the office, and Astick slammed the wooden door shut, putting all of his weight against him.

Oh, go, go! he screamed as his body shook each time the bear slammed against the door like a living battering ram. I ran up, jumping over two stairs. at a time, using the dust-riddle railing to pull myself up, my heart pounding as hard as the rickety door did each time the bear crashed into it. I sprinted into Chekhov's room and began fumbling around, desperately searching for the gun in his luggage with trembling hands. Oh, please be here, please be here. My hand brushed against something cold and metallic, and I pulled it out, thanking the stars for my luck when the pistol came into view. I heard the door grow.

own, something terrible as it finally gave way under the persistent attacks by Purson's pet. The dusty floor made me slip and fall down to my hands and knees as I began running back to the staircase. I stumbled again while descending the steps. My ankle twisting painfully as I missed a step and came tumbling down the last stretch, but thankfully I'd held on to the gun. The bear, showing a surprising amount of dexterity with its clawed paws, grabbed our stick by the legs and pulled him outside in one fluid motion, with my brother's screams sounding distant, almost instantly. I limped onto my feet and hobbled out of the office, drawing the weapon and aiming it in the general direction of the bear before pulling the trigger. And Chekhov's gun, jam.

I almost started hyperventiling as the slide caught awkwardly on the barrel and refused to budge even as I tried pulling it backwards manually. The bear held Asterk down forcefully while I was struggling with a pistol, its claws digging into his flesh, making him scream louder. The demon dropped down from the bear's back and began walking towards Astick in a leisurely manner, seemingly enjoying my brother's suffering. I screamed in frustration and decided just to use the gun as a makeshift club and started to hop towards the demon using my good leg. Prason saw me and screeched. His voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard, the pain making me close my eyes. By the time I opened them again, the bear was inches from my face, before it slammed into me and began tearing chunks off my body,

and then bit me on the shoulder. I almost passed out as the mind-destroying agony flooded through my body, but I held onto consciousness with sheer willpower. No way. Not now, not like this. As the bear was slicing me to ribbons, the sand around me getting stained with blood, my mind was focused elsewhere. Aster'd jump up and swung his fist at Purson's jaw, who easily grabbed it and began pounding him into submission,

crushing his nose and turning his face into bloody pulp as he rained down blow after blow with his hammer-like fists. I put all of my soul into resisting the bear, wanting, needing to get to where Austic. was to try and save him in any way I could. But it wasn't enough. My strength was nothing in comparison to the hell beast slashing away at me. The last thing I saw before the lights went out

was Purson kneeling on Asterisk's chest, pulling on his skull with all his might, as blood came gushing out of his nose and melt. I thought I died. But then the pain came back, forcing me back to reality or threatening to send me back to unconsciousness at the same time. Ritu loomed over me. Her eyes wide with worry as she cradled my wounded body.

A-stick, I whispered, my body not allowing me to scream like I wanted to. Where is it? He's not here, she said softly, and she held back tears. I can only shift the living. I nodded silently. I'm so, so sorry, she sobbed. It's all my fault, everything. I wanted to console her, but the words were stuck in my throat, held back by a rough mixture of pain and grief.

My body was growing cold. I knew I was dawnful. No, she said. Not like this. I can fix it. I can fix this, and no one has to die. Oh, what are you? I groaned, but it was clear she wasn't listening. She had this fanatic gleam in her eyes, like she was about to jump into the deep end of the pool again. I'm going back, she said firmly. I'm going back to when I first summoned that demon and stop myself. I'm going to save you. I'm going to save everyone. Just you wait. I wanted to protest, but she'd walked away from me to sit in an isolated corner somewhere and concentrate. Where are we? I wondered. Have we come back to the present? I turned my head and looked

at the ruins I'd seen when I first came to Kulthara and got my answer. I would have felt relieved if it hadn't been for the gaping hole in my chest, both metaphorical and literal. I put my head back on the ground and drifted in and out of consciousness, staring longingly at the foggy blue sky, with splashes of pale, sickly orange spilling across it. Are you just going to give up now, you pussy? I looked up at Asty, smirking at me,

urging me to climb the little hill he was already halfway up. He adjusted his helmet and signalled with his gloved hand, beckoning me to put aside my fear of heights and following. Don't think about anything else. Just fight your way up. Fight. My eye shot open as the dream ended on that weird note. No, I didn't want to die. Not here, not like this. I gritted my teeth, put my weight on my elbows, and gingerly. got on my feet. Pain exploded in my legs, but I fought through it and began limping out of the village.

I wobbled, I stumbled, my legs almost gave out multiple times, but I fought through it and made my way out onto the road. I hobbled through the dense fog for what felt like hours before I saw a car approaching me. I blinked, wiped the blood and sweat off my eyes, and waved my arms to get the attention of the driver. He must have been drunk or something because he didn't stop and I had to jump out of the way at the last second falling into a ditch near the road the car swerved and almost ran off the road and I breathed a sigh of relief both at the fact that there wasn't an accident and that I might be saved soon I heard voices painfully familiar voices because Shalia says she saw something saw what she says she's not sure but he was covered in blood

Help, help me, I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Because you're fucking drunk. My eyelids closed, and I fell into a deep, probably endless slumber. And the next time I woke up, I was here, Lakshya said, pointing to his sterile surroundings. Who brought you here? I asked. The doctor said it was a farmer from the near. nearby village who come out to inspect his field. I don't remember any of it, he answered.

I quickly and silently said a prayer of thanks to that good Samaritan for saving my brother. Not everyone would have been willing to help a wounded stranger, lying on death's door in a ditch somewhere on the side of the road. So, I began finally trying to confront the question I'd written avoiding for so long. Is he really gone? asked him. His eyes began to water, and I got on. my answer. I put my head in my hands and wept for my brother. What about that girl who started all this? Ritu, I asked, after I'd somewhat composed myself. Galdara is still a famously abandoned

village, isn't it? Lakshya asked, with bitter sarcasm in his voice. It's safe to assume she failed and that thing is still running around freely. I nodded. You know what that means, right? Lacks your spats. After all this, it turns out that I was the lone survivor of the village that disappeared over 200 years ago. And so once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories, and to you for taking the time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favor of you.

Wherever you get your podcast from, please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again, same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.