PЯӨƬӨFΣΛЯ

Sometimes, life feels too short to truly live. But if you ask someone who has nothing, they’ll tell you how painfully long survival can feel.

It was with these thoughts that Arav rode his bike home that night. The clock read close to 8 p.m. The road stretched endlessly, a lonely highway with dense jungle pressing in from both sides. His bike cruised at 60 km/h, the cold wind brushing his face.

Humming a Kishore Kumar tune to himself, Arav pushed away the day’s stress. He worked as a biotechnician, the sole breadwinner of his family. Home was 70 kilometers from his office — a distance he covered every single day.

But tonight, something felt… different.

The air was unnaturally still. Traffic was rare. Even the usual highway dogs weren’t around.

And then, without warning, the bike coughed… and died.

Arav frowned. That’s strange… I just had it serviced. Petrol’s fine. Then why…?

He glanced around. The road lay empty, silent except for the faint rustle of leaves.

That’s when he noticed it — deep in the jungle, a light.

Not steady, but blinking.

A house? he thought. Maybe someone there can help.

Leaving his bike by the roadside, he stepped into the undergrowth. The forest swallowed the highway’s faint glow. His footsteps sounded unnaturally loud.

After a few minutes of walking, he stopped dead.

Before him rose an enormous Shiva temple. Marble-white walls loomed against the black sky, the towering spire piercing the darkness.

Arav’s breath hitched.

What is a temple doing here? In the middle of nowhere? And why… why does it look like no one has been here in years?

No chants. No priests. No visitors. Only the dim blinking light — coming from somewhere within the temple grounds.

He took a cautious step forward.

And then he felt it.

Warm… slow… breathing.

Right against his neck.

His heart lurched. Every hair on his body stood on end.

Someone was standing behind him.

Close. Too close.

A voice, low and rasping, barely human: “You shouldn’t be here…”

Arav’s skin went cold. He forced himself to turn—

Arav turned around.

It wasn’t a man.

It wasn’t even… human.

The figure’s eyes were open far too wide, its face inches from his.

It smiled — a smile that didn’t move the lips, only the skin.

And in that moment, Arav understood…

the temple wasn’t abandoned.

It was waiting.

PART 2 – Coming Soon

Some fears are not learned. They are born with you.