Wishpers of the Forgotten Realm

The wind howled through the dense forests of Devgarh, carrying with it whispers of the past—forgotten voices trapped between worlds. A thick mist blanketed the narrow road winding through the hills, as a lone car crept its way up the path leading to the grand Raizada Haveli. Lightning slashed through the grey skies, briefly illuminating the crumbling statues that guarded the estate like silent sentinels.

Khushi Kumari Gupta sat in the backseat of the taxi, her fingers nervously clutching the dupatta draped around her shoulders. Her eyes, wide and alert, scanned the unfamiliar terrain. She had never ventured this far from Lucknow before, let alone into a town wrapped in so much myth and mystery.

The driver, a wiry man with a nervous twitch, glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “Are you sure, madam? This place... it’s not like the cities. People don’t go there after dark.”

“I’ll be fine,” she replied, more to convince herself than him. “They’re expecting me.”

He shook his head. “They always say that. Just don’t leave the main road, and whatever happens, don’t follow the voices.”

Before she could ask what he meant, the car came to a halt before the towering iron gates of Raizada Haveli. It loomed beyond, cloaked in shadows, with only a single light flickering from a distant window.

A shiver traced down her spine.

The gates creaked open slowly, as if pushed by an invisible hand. The driver refused to go any farther. “Good luck,” he muttered, leaving her with her suitcase and a growing sense of unease.

Khushi stepped through the gates, the gravel crunching beneath her feet as she approached the haveli. The massive wooden doors opened just as she reached them.

Waiting inside was a tall, regal man with graying hair and stern eyes—Arvind Singh Raizada.

“You must be Khushi Kumari Gupta,” he said, voice deep and formal. “Welcome to Raizada Haveli.”

She nodded, trying to smile. “Thank you, sir. It’s an honor.”

He gestured for her to come in. “Your room is ready. Ratna will be down shortly to meet you.”

As she stepped inside, the scent of old wood and something more—floral, yet faintly metallic—greeted her senses. The grand hall was breathtaking, with chandeliers hanging from arched ceilings and portraits of ancestors lining the walls. But the air felt heavy, as though the house itself were watching.

She followed Arvind up a curved staircase, noting the ancient carvings along the banisters. At the top, the hallway stretched endlessly, flanked by tall wooden doors and flickering lamps that barely held the darkness at bay.

“Your room is here,” he said, opening a door to the left. “You’ll find everything you need. Dinner is at eight. You may rest until then.”

“Thank you,” she said again, stepping into the room.

It was spacious, with antique furniture and velvet drapes, but the cold seemed embedded in the walls. Her suitcase thudded softly against the floor as she set it down. The door clicked shut behind her, and for a long moment, all was silent.

Then—tap tap tap—the soft sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor.

Khushi opened the door but found no one there. The hallway stood empty.

She closed it slowly, unease stirring in her chest.

Downstairs, Ratna Singh Raizada descended the stairs, her expression thoughtful. “She’s here?”

Arvind nodded, pouring himself a drink. “Yes. She looks young.”

“She is. But she’s the best from the institute, they say. She’s worked with architectural restoration in several heritage sites.”

Arvind’s eyes darkened. “Let’s hope she’s as capable as they claim. This house... it’s not like the others.”

Ratna’s gaze drifted toward the shadows beyond the staircase. “No. It’s not.”

Later that night, Khushi stood by her window, staring out at the mist-covered gardens. The moon had risen, pale and distant, casting long shadows across the ancient grounds. Something rustled in the trees—too deliberate for wind.

She stepped back, drawing the curtains shut.

As she turned around, a soft whisper brushed her ear.

“Khushi...”

She froze.

The voice was unmistakably real.

And it had come from inside the room.

To be continued.....