THE DELIRIUM

The Delirium

Kalpesh Maniar

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To Varsha, Soham and Shrishti

PROLOGUE

Men in the mode of goodness worship the demigods; those in the mode of passion worship the demons; and those in the mode of ignorance worship ghosts and spirits.

1869 - Khubala

The constant whistling of the wind sounded like a furious scream that resounded through the atmosphere. Shivdutt held his 5-month-old grandson, Shlok, tenderly in his arms and tried not to feel empathy. Everything appeared disturbingly absurd. His grandson’s lifeless eyes would become a traumatizing memory embossed in his mind forever.

Even now, blinded by the yearning for power, his eyes exuded paternal warmth amidst tattered love. The child was fast asleep, drugged from the mixture of opium in his milk before being quietly stolen from his pram. He felt awkward at first, but the inordinate craving for power quickly collapsed the resistance within him.

Who would suspect a doting grandfather’s evil intentions as he carried his grandson for a leisurely stroll?

Gently, and almost lovingly, he raised his hand and brushed Shlok’s slick black hair from his forehead, with the back of his palm. The boy stirred and seemed to mutter incoherently in his sleep before returning to his deep slumber.

Shivdutt closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady his beating heart. The guilt he had desperately attempted to sublimate threatened to resurface. A broken sigh escaped from him, accosted with the mental image of what he was about to do. His hands, trembling with shame and fear, felt as if his passion went from scorching hot to freezing cold in seconds. The thought of drawing blood from the child he loved most was most disconcerting.

More than a decade of rummaging through illegible scripts.The death of one’s own unlocking the passage of limitless power. A quest successfully accomplished.

He looked around him, his eyes skirting through the cemetery. Barring a few, scattered trees that stood like contorted skeletons, everything faded into the purple horizon. The absolute absence of life around him relieved him in a strange manner. The resting places of the dead exhibited more tranquillity than the chaotic living world.

Shivdutt set the sleeping child on the ground and started gathering the bones and skull into a pile beside him, setting up candles around them. When he finished, he crouched behind Shlok.

Shlok slept strangely and his eyes were slightly open, the emptiness and innocence of the open eyes combined with the boy’s ingenuous expression, made Shivdutt hesitate. The actual act of hovering over his infant grandson with the aim of drawing blood from him shook his mental defences.

The thought of blood and gore brought a taste of bile to the back of his mouth. His lower lips shook with repressed tears and he swallowed a mouthful of saliva. He felt both attracted and repulsed by the ritual, and despised his own ambivalence.

Just then, the conversations that he had with Aghori floated into his thoughts.

Shivdutt’s tryst with occultism began with a chance meeting with Aghori on the banks of the river Ganga. Aghori was a devout follower of Lord Shiva. At first, Shivdutt was disgusted by his appearance. He had heard about their cannibalistic practices. His intrigue mounted and surpassed his revulsion however, when he saw Aghori bury himself upside down under a giant peepul tree, his shadow scratching the bark of the tree. Amazingly, he could stay alive even with his head completely buried in the sand while his shadow scratched the rough bark of the giant tree. It was impossible to breathe with his head buried in the sand. Yet Aghori was not only alive but seemed to glisten even in paleness despite starving for a week.

Over the next few days, he shadowed Aghori, who didn’t seem to mind. As Shivdutt spent more and more time with him, the desire to effortlessly wield such power consumed him. He prodded Aghori relentlessly to reveal the secret of his powers.

Aghori informed him that to acquire even an infinitesimal fraction of the vast powers scattered across the different realms, one would be required to embrace one’s worst fears, the loud inflexibilities must give way to silent pliability and become convivial to the whistling howls of dark desires. On further prodding, Aghori, informed Shivdutt that the easiest way to gain access to the mystic powers was to enslave Yakshini, a voluptuous and beautiful woman with mystical powers and insatiable sexual urges. In the years that followed, Shivdutt’s obsession with strange objects grew; he scoured the damaged and almost illegible pages of ancient Sanskrit scriptures to find a way to enslave Yakshini. His success in summoning spirits encouraged him, and with this his desire to control Yakshini consumed him to the core.

Shlok’s sudden movement snapped Shivdutt out of his thoughts.

His eyes gently caressed Shlok’s face with affection. He felt an impulse to toss his urge into the abyss, never to be found again. His trembling fingers gently touched the glyph which he had drawn on Shlok’s forehead and instantly felt its power surge within him crenellating his soft emotions. He placed his hand on Shlok’s naked torso, spread his fingers wide and with the light stroke of the sharp tip of the knife carved the penultimate symbol on his torso. Shlok’s body trembled but the blade’s sharp edge was not enough to awaken him from sleep. The opium had definitely been a wise decision. Shivdutt clasped the flesh and a streak of blood oozed out, flowed down the child’s abdomen, and into the sandy texture of the land.

Shivdutt’s eyes filled with tears and guilt consumed him as he watched his grandson’s essence flow out. Remember, when you sacrifice your own, think of it as liberating their souls from this damned world. By killing them, you are doing a favour that will help their souls to achieve Nirvana.

Shivdutt’s face hardened. He sprinkled Shlok’s blood on the heap of bones and skull. His lips quivered as he chanted the mantra Aghori gave him.

“Please accept my sacrifice and bless me with your powers.” Shivdutt poured a bowl of wine over Shlok’s body. Letting out a muffled shriek. Shlok squirmed slightly in his sleep, perturbed by the sting of alcohol on his open wounds. The pain would have been much worse if not for the drug coursing through his system. Shivdutt carefully put Shlok in front of him, picked up a human skull, placing it over his torso.

In anticipation of fresh blood, the flies buzzed around Shlok’s body, some of them even daring to perch on the coagulating blood. The opium continued to work efficiently. The dead have the power to suck life out of the living, Shivdutt had read in an ancient text. He picked up the obsidian knife, sampled the blood over it, and held Shlok’s pinky finger. His hand trembled, but his ache soothed by the massage of desire set his face with steely determination. He positioned the blade over the tender flesh and sliced through flesh and fragile bones.

Shlok’s cry of pain reverberated in the air; his hand trembled feebly as the pain shot through his body from the severed pinky. The pain was powerful as it overrode the effect of the opium and brought Shlok’s conscious mind back to life.

The sight of blood and bones protruding from Shlok’s flesh nauseated Shivdutt momentarily.

With each passing seconds, Shlok’s cry of pain intensified; the shrill cry was so heart-wrenching that Shivdutt’s racing heart left him gasping for breath, his brain churned in turmoil. His hands shook violently as he made an effort to calm Shlok. Burning with guilt he picked him up and stroked his hair. He showered kisses on his forehead, covering his finger tightly with the piece of cloth that was meant to hold the parts of his body.

He apologised, “Please forgive me. I am sorry.” He continued to caress and comfort Shlok, and his efforts proved successful as Shlok’s cry silenced and turned into soft sobs. Guilt gripped Shivdutt’s heart; his soft whispers dripped with emotions. Shivdutt heaved a shaky sigh of relief when suddenly, he froze.

The munching sound of chewing from behind Shivdutt hit him like a jolt of electricity. Shlok’s severed pinky was gone, leaving in its spot a patch of blood on the earth.

Shivdutt’s hair stood on end as if a continuous pulse of electricity flowed through it. A chilly cold air caressed the nape of his neck, sending a pulse of trepidation through the pores. He was too scared to look back. Perhaps a wild animal had strayed in with the hope of finding food. The area was very close to the forest, after all.

Suddenly the candles around the skull and bones flared. It was a strange occurrence considering that no matchbox was visible. The next moment darkness enveloped Shivdutt, who could still feel the presence of a dark figure behind him. He was filled with dread.

“Kill him.” The hoarse, commanding voice sounded as if it came from inside his head.

Fear and panic clutched him tightly paralysing his thoughts. “Kill him, kill him” the siren in his head got louder. The acrid malodorous smell filled his nostrils, making him nauseous. He felt shrouded by heaviness.

Suddenly, shrill cries filled the air. Shlok, lying in Shivdutt’s lap, cried hysterically as if his pure soul could feel the horrific presence.

Shivdutt’s head throbbed, the voice in his head intensified and he felt as if the morbid chant was echoing through his entire body. He noticed the shadow of a figure beside him; it appeared feminine.

The woman was haggard, her long nails scratching the ground. For a moment, Shivdutt’s eyes filled with terror, but he immediately felt a sense of relief. Could be a beggar. At last someone who could help? The sight of another human in the otherwise eerie deserted place raised his spirits.

“Help me…..” he tried to speak but found the words choked in his mouth. His gaze fixed on the woman’s cragged hand. It was decayed and full of dirt. Maggots crawled on her brownish skin feasting on whatever they could. The scratching stopped abruptly, the woman’s head tilted to her left, the curls of her wispy hair followed. The fresh perspective left him numb, filling him with the bloated soreness of annoyance.

Shivdutt’s stomach churned. Immersed in fear, he hysterically clutched the howling Shlok , who threw up his bloodied hands and legs as if seeking release from his tight grip.

The woman’s limbs were twisted at awkward angles. Her legs were filled with the wave of hungry evanescent maggots that emerged from the dark and crawled on the land she was seated on.

As soon as strokes of moonlight fell on her, Shivdutt felt her piercing gaze staring at him, all the time. He gazed into her eyes, if they could be called eyes, they resembled a dark, bottomless pit, waiting to devour anything that came by, her nose devoid of flesh, and her lips curled in a permanent snarl.

As he looked at her illuminated face, he felt a jolt of recognition and his mouth dropped open in shock.

This was his dead mother.

“Moth….”

Without warning the dark shadow sifted shape to become another.

“Was it his delusion?” He shot a desperate furtive glance around. The shadow disappeared. The moon was cloaked with a thick layer of lingering mist. The darkness seemed to come from within him. The silence was deafening.

An abrupt blood-curdling scream that turned into growling in a hoarse voice froze Shivdutt’s blood. In a flash he saw her again revealing her rotting brownish yellow uneven teeth that had gaps at intervals, which made her appear even more sinister. The rotten, revolting and gut-wrenching stench emanated from her, it was hard to discern whether it was her mouth or body.

For the first time, Shivdutt saw that her long, bony fingers had huge talons attached to them. He could feel her chilly, cold breath very close, it reeked of hatred. Her protruding red eyes glowed with malice, her contorted face spewing disgust on both, Shivdutt and Shlok. Revelling in his helplessness, she let out a strange, hysterical evil laugh.

Shivdutt was transfixed by glutinous annoyance. The air was replete with the depressing sound of crying and dreadful laughter; together they represented the sound of misery. The sound in his ears became deafening, travelling like tremors in his veins threatening to explode. His ability to focus vanished. He put Shlok unceremoniously on the ground. Holding his head in his hands, he scrambled backwards, trying to move away from the deafening screams.

“Kill him.” The voice in his head grew louder.

“No...noooooo.” Shivdutt screamed and fell. He lay on the ground, his hands still over his ears to block out the noise. He could hear Shlok crying, albeit with less intensity. Perhaps he was tired. Shivdutt could hear the violent throbbing sound of his heart, the rush of adrenalin mixed with blood rushing through his veins. He tried to rise, staggered and fell with a loud thud. The misery swept over him.

His mother or whatever the apparition was made the sound of nails scratching the wooden board. His breathing was heavy, pores of his body secreting sweat mixed with blood that crippled his strength. He found himself in the grip of visceral fear and screamed. He dug his nails into his scalp and ripped his hair off. The strands came off easily and blood dripped from its roots. He lost his ability to distinguish between pain and fear and felt as if his soul was being squeezed methodically.

”Kill him,” the creature hissed. Shivdutt’s ear drums burst and blood seeped out, yet he could hear the sound in his head, its effect amplifying with each passing moment.

“No! No,” he screamed and crawled towards his knife. His blood-splattered face became contorted with rage. He felt as if his body was on fire and every organ kneaded by the evil spirit mocking its creator. The dark shadow engulfed him, completely enveloping his mind with its revolting stench. The rotten stench found its way into nostrils and vitiated his soul. His fingers felt the cold wooden handle; the droplets of his blood fell on the blade which shone gleefully in the faint moonlight.

The sobbing on the other side irked him. Fury coursed through his weakened mental state, urging him to destroy the source of the annoying sound and restore silence to his mind.

He eyed Shlok’s small frame with malice, his grip on the wooden handle of his blade hardened as the urge for destruction grew. Slowly, he walked towards him and glared at the child with contempt. The tension within him rose to explosive proportions.

His eyes met Shlok’s. Once the boy glimpsed Shivdutt, he fell silent and gazed at Shivdutt, perhaps finding vestiges of comfort in his grandfather’s familiar face. He felt as if the child’s eyes begged him to be in his safe hands and be the loving grandfather he once was. His hands shivered as he picked Shlok up whose intense look made him uncomfortable. Exhaustion stopped Shlok’s crying and Shivdutt was grateful for the silence. He felt the touch of the child’s arm on his massive hand resulting in a mixture of strange emotions. He staggered slightly when drops of his blood fell over the child’s soft flesh twisting his lips in a smile. He could smell the deathly rancid stench enveloping him, and with a shrill cry, which collided with Shlok’s panic-ridden shriek, he raised his right arm.

The sound of the despairing cry resulted in an explosion of anger within him. His right hand came down swiftly, and drove the sharp blade’s edge into the boy’s skin. Fresh blood welled into the hollow at the base of his small neck. His left hand swayed with the shock at what he had done.

Shlok’s weeping intensified.

There was no going back. Shivdutt knew he had to finish what he started. He held Shlok in front of his face, and put the sharp blade over his torso. He could see the reflection of his eyes in the blade. Perhaps the blade too was eyeing him impatiently. He thought.

Shlok’s gaze was filled with pain, but the presence of the knife and his grandfather’s grim expression gave him psychological relief; as if he was prepared to accept his death. And with the swift pull the blade moved across the slim throat, slicing the soft jelly like flesh and a fountain of blood rose into the air to splash across Shivdutt’s face and arms colouring it with red. He thought he saw the child squirm for a second, but quickly brushed it aside as imagination.

The lifeless body hung in his hands. The legs that kicked life a few moments ago, now hung in silence as if offering their oblation to death.

Shivdutt could feel the sticky blood, which had splattered over his face and body, descending slowly, leaving the faint trail, and merging with the soil below.

Everything was silent except the distant sound of nails scratching the wooden board. Shivdutt felt the presence of someone behind him, but could not see; there were no shadows, only a fetid stench. The anger within him subsided. The sight of his beloved grandson lying lifeless in bloodied hands horrified him. Exhaustion seeped into his body and mind. The sorrow crept slowly from every inch of his body. Shlok’s brown eyes watched him, it seemed as if someone had doused the fire in them with ice cold water. They lay still, with a question-mark. The guilt, sorrow and misery ate deeper into his soul, making it harder to discern his thoughts. Shlok seemed even more precious than when he was alive. Shivdutt held the loosely hanging head in his palm and kissed it. Tears coursed from his eyes as his heart registered grief and despair.

The distant sound of scratching came near bringing the foul stench with it. Shivdutt found himself consumed with grief and rage. He gripped the knife, turned abruptly but lost his balance and crashed to the ground. The knife almost skewered his flesh, but he twisted away at the last minute. His skin scrawled as he suddenly felt a chilly cold wind engulf him. He could hear the sound of infernal screams in his head. He screamed like a mad man and with a swift move sliced the knife in the air. The screams in his head grew louder. His eyes full of pain and betrayal. The sudden madness, powered by guilt and anger, overtook him and he began to slice the darkness violently. His frustration grew as he continued to stab the air. He felt his veins bursting within with the amplification of sounds from hell, this time pierced with the imagination of his dead grandson’s sharp cries that reverberated through him.

Suddenly he reversed the blade till the sharp tip rested above his heart and with a quick push, drove the blade deep into his own chest. He felt the stone knife scrape past his ribs before it entered his wildly beating heart, and with the last of his strength twisted the blade, forcing the wound open. Pain, more powerful than anything he had ever experienced before struck him and his vision narrowed to a single point as he fell forward into the shallow pit.

His breath rushed out of him, bubbles of blood upon his lips from his perforated lung. He felt his heart give one final desultory pulse before the sound of the infernal screams of hell rose up around him.

* * *

Book I

The soul is neither born, nor does it ever die; nor having once existed, does it ever cease to be. The soul is without birth, eternal, immortal, and ageless. It is not destroyed when the body is destroyed.

The small village of Khubala was not noticeably different from all the other villages around. Its rustic character was enhanced by the landscape of lush farms encompassing it like a halo. Khubala smelled of wet soil, a sharp contrast to the fetid and dank industrial odour of the city. The galloping industrialisation elsewhere completely stopped short of setting foot in the small village for reasons that were hard to fathom. Children and farm animals could be seen basking in the afternoon sun, while the women gathered in groups to wash clothes at the river bank infusing fleeting life in the otherwise dull and dying river. A distant but steady electric hum, most likely from the motor that pumped water into the fields, formed the undertone of the village.

Those who were shaped by years of hardened attitude and hostile to change preferred to work on the farmlands, while the more ambitious youth embraced the warmth of nearby cities to search for a new paradigm of life.

An uneven dirt road wound haphazardly in loops and curves through the village as if it had a mind of its own. Its deceptively smooth appearance in places could be deceptive; it could prove rugged at unexpected places, making it an arduous task for vehicles to travel on it. The bumpy topography also frequently tested the patience of those travelling by foot, who were the majority of those traversing here.

The village hospital bore a poverty-stricken look as if professing solidarity with the inhabitants of the village. Situated at the far end of the village, it stood with a sense of helplessness in need of succour. The culture of superstition held sway over the culture of reason. The village folks, being orthodox in outlook, preferred to seek help from a local witch-doctor who acted as both healer of diseases and protector from evil.

Strange as it might seem, Khubala piqued itself in the fact that it remained in a torpid state, resisting the winds of economic and social change. It completely shunned modern progressive and prosperous approaches to life and held on to its archaic traditions.

On the morning of the day when Abram arrived with his family in his hatchback, the town was quiet, or at least as silent as it could ever get with over a thousand people milling around. A few children wandered around the streets, playing vacuous games that only served the purpose of being an entertaining way for them to while away time. The car, an unusual sight in the village, attracted the attention of some boys playing in the street. They chased its headlights as fast as they could, bolting through the empty streets. When they got tired, they resorted to scouring the street for toys of any kind, or even finding amusement in a discarded wheel that could be rolled through the streets while running alongside it.

Abram couldn’t see a discernible difference between Khubala now, and when he had left it behind about three decades ago. Looking around him and seeing all the familiar sights of the village after such a gap of time filled him with overwhelming nostalgia and brought fresh life to the dead memories that retreated to the back of his mind. Amira was initially very disappointed on seeing how rural the village was, but the thought of spending more time alone with her parents raised her spirits. They got to a big grim-looking antiquated two-storey structure that was quiet, with no discernable sound emanating other than the sound of the house’s own breathing. The house glared at them menacingly with its wicked windows for eyes.

Abram’s ancestral house was huge compared to the tiny mud and brick houses, which resembled small compartments, in the village. A two-storey structure with old asbestos roofing, it stood illustrious and austere, surrounded by the plush green rural landscape. The paint had peeled off, a testament to its battle with harsh summer and cataclysmic rains. The weather-worn wooden frame of the door hung loosely on the corroded hinges, as if waiting, exhausted and sulking, for its time to bid adieu forever. What was left of the windows were just metal skeletons, the glass long shattered, leaving gaping holes in them that allowed the wind and heavy rains to blow in unbridled and play mischief. The stone stairs that led to the front door appeared like a crooked, distorted tongue extended out of the doorway’s open mouth.

To Vedika, the doorway resembled a sinister gaping mouth waiting to swallow them all into its belly with the specially brewed horrors that awaited them inside the house.

A few goats wandering around the yard seemed to glare oddly at them, as if accusing them for encroaching into their space like uninvited guests. After inhaling a lung full of air and rolling up her sleeves as if bracing herself for the rustic lifestyle that lay ahead, Vedika slowly stepped out of the car. As she stepped into the front yard, she was greeted with the smell of cattle and urine. She scrunched up her nose in disgust. The house had its own musty smell though; it was a mixture of the smell of wet soil, the overgrown grass around it, and years of accumulated dust. The air surrounding it smelled the same, reminiscent of its bygone glory.

It was Abram’s idea to visit his native village. He wanted to take a break from the incessant pounding of footsteps and the shrill sounds of distressed automobiles on weather-cracked concrete in the city. The city’s polluted air and mechanical lifestyle made him sick. He also wanted Amira to have the experience of living in the rural side of the country, to enjoy all it offered: the fresh air, less noise, and ample space to delight in the non-pecuniary pleasures of life. Vedika, hesitant at first, nodded in tacit agreement later, as it occurred to her that since Abram could rarely devote much time for her and Amira owing to his job, they could as well use this as a rare opportunity for precious family bonding.

Abram trudged behind her through the front yard and unlocked the door. Amira, on her way in, watched the goats with interest, never having seen so many in her life. She waved her hands enthusiastically at them, but the goats seemed to assume she was shooing them away and sped off in different directions, scrambling through the broken fence.

Vedika watched the father-daughter duo go into the house. It was amazing how unaffected they were by it. It dwarfed her, the house. It blocked out the sun and cast a long shadow across the street. Standing in that vast shadow Vedika felt a chill run over her body, small bumps surfacing on her skin. She glanced up at it, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Mummy, aren’t you coming in?” Amira asked as she poked her head out of the door.

Under Abram’s concerned glance, Vedika pulled herself together, stilled the shaking of her hands. Slowly, she nodded. It felt as if heavy weights had been attached to her legs as she walked each step a labouring movement. Her heels sunk into the soil in the house’s front yard, where patches of overgrown weeds had sprouted at random. She glanced uneasily at the farm animals, which eyed her silently, giving her the feeling of being watched as she walked up the broken steps to the front door. The smell of decay permeated the air and it only seemed to grow more pungent the closer she approached the house.

Vedika felt as if she wasn’t proceeding, and on looking at her feet she noticed they were moving at the same spot. She lifted her head and saw it was the house which was sliding closer to her. It was akin to an odd dream but Vedika knew it wasn’t.

Vedika escorted herself into the house. The interior did not look as dark, abandoned and terrifying as it had seemed from outside. Oddly, the electricity connection was still on. She toyed nervously with the light switch. Up. Down. Up. Down. Though the electricity stayed on, the fan refused to budge from its resting position, evidently badly damaged.

Vedika sighed and gave up, after numerous futile attempts to turn it on. This does not bode well, she thought, with an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach.

Amira bloomed in the house, going from room to room making sure to be as noisy as possible.

To Vedika, it felt as if the house haunted her like a spectre. Calling her inside and shooing her away all at once. It was a maddening feeling. When she hinted this to Abram, he just laughed and pushed his way out, remarking only that it was a little bit cold.

Vedika took a deep breath. If it wasn’t for Abram, she would have never set foot in the house, but she knew him. She had to admit she felt rather silly. She wished she could enjoy the place the way Abram did.

Gradually, Vedika’s heart calmed down, the fear dissipating. She crossed the floor over to the window, where she grasped the edge, and wrenched it open. Sunlight and heat poured into the room, making the dust motes dance before her eyes. She pulled her sleeve over her hand and set to cleaning up some of the dust, with the windows open it was much easier to breathe.

The family took pleasure in the chance to get active in the house that reeked of pessimism, and tackled the demanding task of organising the house, which took the entire day. Vedika focused on getting rid of the dust which had settled over every surface in sight, so thick that it gave objects in the room a furry appearance. A gust of fresh air through the open front door unsettled the dust that had lain stagnant in the house for months, swirling it around in lazy spirals.

Abram and Amira took on the job of unpacking the cardboard boxes and arranging their contents.

“What’s in this box, Daddy? It’s so big,” Amira exclaimed as she pointed towards a heavy box from where it sat in the car, among the remaining boxes she was supposed to be helping her dad move into the house.

“It is for daddy’s office. Hey, be careful! It’s fragile.”

Amira giggled and ran back, arms empty, into the house.

“Sweetie, what are you doing?!” Her mother yelled.

“Playing,” she replied with a shrug, her eyes glinting.

Vedika sighed, setting down a vase she was dusting. “I think your father wants you to help him unpack, so go outside. You can play later, okay? ” she said, gently nudging Amira back towards the front door.

“All right,” Amira said, quickly scurrying out of the door again.

“Daddy,” Amira called out a few feet away from the car, in her childish voice, “Can I help you with the small boxes in the car? Mummy told me I should help out more.” she asked with a disarming smile.

“That sounds like your mother. Yes, sweetheart, that would be great,” Abram replied. Amira walked the remaining few steps to stand next to her father by the car. Abram smiled down at her, pinching her chubby cheek affectionately.

Amira attempted to lift the boxes that were already set down on the ground,

“They’re heavy,” she said, looking up at her father, her eyes clouded with disappointment.

”That’s all right, sweetheart. You can go back inside,”

“I’ll go see if mummy needs my help.” Amira said, smiling as she ran inside.

“Mummy. I’m hungry.” inertness provoked pangs of hunger in the little girl.

Vedika wiped her hands and reached for a bag of cookies she had stashed away while Abram arranged their belongings.

She quickly walked over to Amira and handed the cookies to her, saying, “Have these cookies for now, darling. She reached forward and patted her hand. “I think you’ll like it here. Quiet street, quiet neighbours. We do have some bugs around here, but absolutely no mice or rats, don’t you worry. And if you don’t mess with the bugs, they won’t mess with you, either.” She squeezed her daughter’s hand gently, reassuringly for a moment, then let go.

“Mummy... is that a forest?” Amira’s tiny fingers pointed through the back window to the dense woody vegetation spread out behind the house. In the midst of the green trees, a mountain proudly stood its apex visible above the thick canopy of branches.

“Well, the jungle is never far from the village,” Abram said, entering with a large cardboard box in his hands. Vedika glanced briefly at Abram and caught him smiling mischievously, obviously thrilled that his daughter had already approved of his hometown. “But no playing in there.”

“Why?” Amira whined. Her head already imagined the chirping of the birds and all the fun she would have playing hide-and-seek with the rabbits in the bushes.

“Because the trees are so closely packed that you can’t see anything even in broad daylight, and there are spiders bigger than you,” Vedika said, running the tips of her fingers all over Amira’s body to simulate the crawling movement of a huge spider, in an attempt to scare her.

"Ewwwww.Mummy!”

“Hey sweetie, enjoying your vacation?” Abram said, smirking at Vedika. He reached for Amira and carried her over his shoulders. “Let me set down the rest of our stuff, I’ll join you soon,” Abram whispered.

“How long is it going to be?” Vedika muttered under her breath.

“An hour or two, and I will be here with you,” Abram said, reassuring her.

“No. I mean….. For how long are we going to stay here? ” Vedika murmured, turning to face him.

“God, I don’t know. May be a week or two, everything fine?” Abram asked, looking in Vedika’s direction. He was the only one who could easily notice when something confused or worried her.

“Yes, everything’s cool. I’m still puzzled by this whole idea of spending a vacation here. Just imagine how lonely she would feel, staying here for two weeks. ”Vedika’s eyes wandered affectionately towards Amira.

“Oh, she is daddy’s girl.” Abram put Amira down and bent down to kiss her on the cheek. Straightening up again and locking eyes with Vedika, he said, “Vidu..We inherited this house. Let’s make this our home, even if it is just for a short while.”

“Certainly,” Vedika scoffed, rolling her eyes, “We inherited the house from this uncle of yours that I’ve never even heard of.”

Abram only chuckled, shaking his head.

Vedika sighed. She hated being here, but her curiosity got the better of her and she began to carefully examine the house.

There were many small visible cracks crisscrossing the entire surface of the walls in the house. Her eyes wandered past the walls to the ceiling and the density of the spider webs she saw hanging above her made her shiver. An ominous feeling suddenly pervaded her as she stared at the creepy ceiling and the cracked walls. The wood in the furniture, if it could even still be called furniture, was weak and wobbly. When she tried to sit on one of the chairs, it made a loud squeaking sound and she felt as if it was about to collapse beneath her. Aside from the lamp lights in the room, the only other source of lighting was the sporadic glow of moonlight that shone through the windows. The only sounds that could be heard were those of the dead leaves in the forest outside rattling in the breeze, the wind blowing in through the window, and her own anxious breaths. Though she knew the house couldn’t really harm her, it felt menacing and Vedika could feel her heartbeat quicken.

She glanced at her phone. The network was gone, and shockingly, despite her phone’s battery showing 60 per cent charge just a minute ago, a low battery alert blinked incessantly at her. A few seconds later, it died.

What a way to welcome us.

She dropped the dead phone and forced herself to settle down. After all, as Abram pointed out, it was only for a week.

* * *

“Abram!” Vedika called out from the basement.

Abram sat across from Amira on the living room floor, a huge brown box he tried to open positioned between them. Amira mostly watched him, occasionally making feeble attempts to help. On hearing Vedika’s characteristic faint voice shout for him, Abram rose immediately, giving Amira a smile and wink.

“I’m sorry darling, it seems your mummy needs me.”

He picked Amira up from the floor, reached into his pocket for a chocolate bar and handed it to her, before gently placing her on one of the chairs. Crouching in front of her he looked into her eyes and said, “Stay here and don’t cause any trouble, okay? I’ll be right back.”

He hurried to the back of the house towards the basement where Vedika waited. It was a large, partially underground basement situated at the back of the house. Before the house became forlorn, it was used as a storeroom for all the materials that were not needed anymore but no one could find in their hearts to discard.

Amid the clutter, the subterranean level wielded its own aura of fear. It was cluttered with several things. Old furniture – drawers, tables, wooden chairs, sofas, a few shelves and racks of different sizes – each a potential booby-trap in its own way - as well as other items such as old toys, trinkets and keepsakes, packed away in dusty boxes all over the room.

A small wooden staircase, which couldn’t resist creaking noisily when anyone stepped on it, led into the basement. Though the basement was fairly spacious, it was difficult to move around because of the clutter that made one doubt his shadow, and then there was a low ceiling, sloping down at odd angles, that could smash one’s head in many different ways.

The pungent smell invaded Abram’s nostrils which only seemed to grow stronger as he explored the basement further.

The air was not only humid, it smelled musty too, and had that same slight smell of accumulated dust that pervaded the house. Light in the room came from a single source: a bare bulb hanging precariously on a blue wire which was beginning to lose its plastic insulation,revealing the copper live wire underneath. The light, dim as it was, illuminated some of the dust mites and other particles in the air floating around the disorderly jumble of scrapped objects.

Abram’s eyes skirted through the basement. Several pieces of old wooden furniture were stacked on top of one another and seemed as if they could topple over at any given moment. An old drawer that had been stacked high atop other pieces of old furniture had fallen open and the door hung dangerously loose on its hinges. As Abram looked around, he realised the basement was fraught with hazards. It threatened to hurt a person in the most innovative way.

Vedika stood in the middle of the room. She wiped the sweat from her brow and smiled when she noticed that Abram had entered the basement. “It’s so oppressive in here. Feels like I’m inside a coffin,” she chuckled.

“Yes,” Abram replied. “Probably because it has been shut for so long.”He glanced around again, saying with a laugh, “This is the most hideous place I have ever been in.”

“Me too,” Vedika replied, smiling. “That can be remedied, though,” she said, narrowing her eyes in concentration as she closely inspected the room. “Don’t you think given the fact that we plan to spend the precious two weeks of our lives here.” She turned to him, her brows creased in thought.

Abram nodded in agreement. He too closely examined the basement.

The dense stone walls of the basement showed clear signs of weathering. At the far right corner there was some kind of liquid leaking into the room, probably from a burst underground pipe. Certain portions of the walls were damp, leading Abram to presume that perhaps rain water was seeping through them. The concrete on one of the beams had fallen, exposing the rusted iron overhead. His gaze shifted to the single window the entire basement had, its crumbling frame stared back grimly. It probably served as a home for creepy-crawly creatures which was evident from cobwebs dangling over it.

Abram caught a whiff of a faint odour he found difficult to discern. Perhaps it was the old decaying wood of the furniture lying around or the rotting beams in the ceiling or it could even be a dead rodent hidden somewhere between the piles of junk.

He would have to sort through everything in here and reorganise the place, disposing of some things for good. He would also have to figure out where the leakage originated from and fix it. It was almost impossible to breathe because of the odious smell. He formulated a plan in his head regarding how he was going to go rearrange everything when his train of thoughts was interrupted by Vedika. She stood in front of Abram, observing him with keen eyes.

“Are you going to spend the entire day staring at these walls?” she asked,slightly amused.

Abram’s thoughtful expression immediately morphed into a sly look. He smiled and pulled her closer to him, circling her waist. “If you want me to,” he responded teasingly, smirking. When that was rewarded with a laugh from his wife, he pressed on, saying, “This place is dark and decaying, but think of all the fun we could have.”

“Really?” Vedika scoffed. “It’s hot and stuffy. You’re dreaming if you think we’re going to have fun in here,” she said, squirming to try and free herself.

“I’m already having fun,” he replied, nuzzling his head into her neck, his hands on her taut back.

Vedika laughed again. “Where do you even get these silly ideas?”

“From my beautiful wife,” he replied, now trying to insert his hand under her shirt.

Vedika pulled away, raising an eyebrow at him. “Not a good idea mister, considering the fact that we have just begun to infuse life into this dead house. A lot still needs to be done. Just look at the state of utter despair this basement is in,” she said, gesturing at the basement.

Abram sighed against her neck, and then pulled away as well. “Hmm. You’re right. Aside the fact that it looks terrible, it’s too dangerous in here. It’s easy to get injured or acquire a bruise by just sauntering around aimlessly.”

The truth in his comment made him worried for Amira. What if she wandered into this place and got badly hurt? They needed to sort things out fast. He made a mental note to warn Amira about entering the basement in the meantime.

The faint smell lingered and Abram wondered, “ Where is this smell coming from? Was it just him or could Vedika smell it too? He knew that if she had noticed it, she would have been quick to mention it

“Can you smell this weird odour?” Abram inquired, looking around the basement trying to trace where it could be coming from.

Vedika leaned forward and sniffed. “I can’t smell anything except your evil intentions,” she teased him.

“Really?” Abram asked. “I don’t know… ever since I picked it up, I’ve been getting this strange feeling.”

Abram was really grateful that Vedika and Amira had adjusted to rural life without much discomfort. He’d been afraid that it would be difficult for them to adapt to the humdrum monotonous life of the rural town, having spent their entire lives surrounded by the vibrancy of the city. However, bucolic life turned out to be a breath of fresh air they hadn’t known they needed. In just two days, Vedika slipped comfortably into a rural routine: waking up at the cock’s crow, cleaning the house, tending to the yard and cooking. It warmed Abram’s heart to watch her.

Amira too quickly adjusted to not having much to do and lazing around. When, occasionally, boredom held her in its grip, she would nettle Abram, demanding that he entertain her or play games with her.

Amira was full of curiosity. She always asked one question or another about the house, the townspeople and animals. She interrogated Abram relentlessly and he answered her questions to the best of his ability, directing her to Vedika for the ones he didn’t want to answer or didn’t know the answer to.

Most days, Abram spent his time either enjoying quality moments with his family or visiting the panchayat office to complete the formalities of the house. His favourite part of the day was the morning, specifically the time he set aside for his early morning walk by the base of a lush green hill, a short distance from the house. His usual path took him through a small forest adjacent to his house. He enjoyed taking his time as he strolled through the forest, dead leaves crunching beneath his feet, listening to the noisy but tranquil sounds of the birds chirping and the small mammals scurrying around. He also loved the sight of the big woody trees, the brown soil and the bark–set off against the white backdrop of the early morning sky. He took deep breaths as he walked through the woods, filling his lungs with fresh air and savouring the rich fragrance of nature. This was why he had come to his hometown: the soothing sights, sounds and smells effectively counterbalanced the rough, raucous life of the city of Mumbai. The forest gave him a renewed understanding of peace.

Each morning seemed like a whole new world. He marvelled at the slightly colours of the flowers, sometimes picking a particularly beautiful one to take home for his wife. Adding to the captivating display of colours were the colourful insects and birds that occasionally flew around the forest. Once, he gasped when he caught sight of the brilliant blue fluttering shapes in the wings of a swallowtail butterfly flying past. Amira loved chasing butterflies, he made a mental note to bring her here to play.

He did his best to make his family feel cherished, and they never complained. They seemed to have fallen in love with rural life themselves. Vedika was both insightful and resourceful temperamentally, working with Abram to put the house in order while also catering to his and Amira’s needs. He felt truly blessed to have such a family.

One morning, Abram decided to venture out again to tour the village finding a mason to work on the dilapidated basement. Bhoir, the mason made painfully slow progress, which annoyed him. That was, however, the way things were in the village. Time was not valued as it was in the city. Needless to say, ambition had no place here. Vedika wanted the job done quickly, because there were many things there that could hurt Amira.

He decided to find Bhoir and reprimand him.

Just as he got to the doorway, about to leave for his planned work, Amira came running towards him with her arms outstretched. Abram reached down and picked her up, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Hello, trouble,” he said, smiling at Amira. She giggled in response. “You woke up early today, huh?”

Amira nodded enthusiastically, then she pouted. “Daddy, today you have to play hide-and-seek with me.” Her pout melted into an irresistible grin, showing her perfect set of white teeth.

Abram couldn’t resist her smiling, hopeful eyes, but he knew that he might not finish playing with her in time to find Bhoir who had a strange habit of disappearing without any warning. His eyes drifted to Vedika who was chopping vegetables, then he sighed, “Honey, Mummy needs me to take care of the basement.”

“No… No, I want you to play with me,” Amira insisted, looking up at him with a teary face as she agitatedly banged her small fist on Abram’s broad chest.

Abram’s eyes looked helplessly at Vedika, who turned to him, chuckling.

“Go,” Vedika said. “Play with her for some time. Maybe that will burn some of that extra energy before we have lunch. You can take care of the masonry work in the afternoon while she rests.” She stood up. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Abram beamed affectionately at her. “All right then.” Smirking, he turned to Amira. “You are going to lose,” he said, putting her down.

“No, you will!” she shrieked. She slipped her tiny warm hand into his and led him back through the living room to the foot of the wide stairway which led to the rooms upstairs.

“Okay, close your eyes and count to one hundred. And don’t peep! ” she said, letting go of his hand.

“One, two…” He began with his face against the wall, smiling to himself when he heard Amira giggle before she scampered off towards the back of the house.

While Abram stood there counting, a faint acrid metallic odour assailed his nostrils. It was the same stench that he had smelled a few days ago in the basement. It must be from down there. He scrunched his nose and cursed under his breath as the smell grew stronger. Must be dead rats.

He vowed to take care of the basement later. Feeling a slight tingle in his nose, he rubbed it idly.He turned his attention back to counting, listening closely to try and hear Amira’s movements so he could guess where in the house she was hiding. Moments later, he heard a noise like footsteps, moving around upstairs. Maybe she went to one of the rooms upstairs through the rear staircase?

He concentrated on the noise, and realised that it couldn’t be footsteps; it was sharp, like a hard object tapping on the concrete floor upstairs. He heard another sound, a scraping sound, like the groaning of something heavy being slowly dragged across the floor. “Twenty-five, twenty-six…” he kept counting. His eyes were still closed. What was that sound? Was Amira pulling anything across the floor? Suddenly, it seemed as if the sounds were moving towards him, trailing down the concrete banister with a scratching noise that reminded him of nails moving across a board. He could feel a tingling sensation on his face, almost like someone watching him. Finally, he couldn’t resist the urge to open his eyes and check.

He opened his eyes halfway and turned to peek at the staircase. Nothing.See? There is nothing there. It’s just your imagination. He looked around for another second, then closed his eyes and went back to counting. “Fifty-two, fifty-three… ” Despite the fact that he knew he was alone, he couldn’t help feeling that someone had their eyes fixed on him. He speeded up his counting. Despite the childishness of the entire exercise, he felt as though the moment he opened his eyes, something would be right in front of him, staring back.

He scolded himself privately. Come off it Abram, what’s wrong with you? You opened your eyes; you saw that there’s nothing there. Why can’t you just enjoy playing with your daughter? Despite these thoughts, he strained his ears, listening for that strange sound. Then, Suddenly, he smelled the strange fetid odour again, feeling nauseated. His heartbeats gradually increased in pace.

He swallowed, taking a deep breath before continuing his count.

Abram was relieved when he hit the nineties, glad he could soon stop, open his eyes, and look for Amira. But as he got to ninety-five he felt a chill wind sigh behind his neck, blowing his hair up. The wind brought with it a stronger, more pungent form of the malodorous smell, making him gag.

His nose wrinkled and he stopped counting abruptly. He felt an electric jolt run down his spine and he jumped, opening his eyes. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, just the warm sunlight shining through the artistic lead-light window of the front door. He turned and looked up towards the top of the stairwell, expecting to see Vedika standing there with a cup of coffee, smiling at the prank she had just played on him. Still nothing.

“One hundred. Ready or not, here I come,” he called out, rubbing his nose to try to get the smell out. He moved up the stairs and looked around, half-hoping to find a dead rodent lying on one of the steps. It would explain the horrid smell. Abram did not put it past his precocious daughter to place it there in an attempt to trick or distract him. But he found nothing.

He began his search with Amira’s bedroom, checking under the bed and in the closet. He couldn’t find her, but that odd smell lingered, even in her room. He could not think of any explanation why the smell seemed to have pervaded the entire house. Next, he searched the main bedroom, checking every corner, and everywhere he thought a eleven-year-old could fit.

After checking upstairs, he came downstairs and carefully searched every other room. As he went into the kitchen to search there, he saw Vedika busy arranging the dishes. “Did you see where Amira went?” he asked.

Vedika raised her eyebrows with a small smile playing on her lips, “That’s cheating.” She nudged him playfully with her elbow. “Go and find her, lunch is almost ready.”

Abram stood there staring at her with frustration written all over his face. “I’ve searched the whole house,” he replied. “I can’t find her.”

Vedika shrugged, “I didn’t see where she went.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, still putting out the dishes, “Don’t tell me the great Abram has been outwitted by a eleven-year-old. Look again, you’ll find her.”

And so Abram did double-checking every place he could think of where Amira might be hiding. After another brief search, he gave up. “Okay Amira, you win. Daddy could not find you. Come out now, lunch is ready,” he called out.

He waited, expecting his daughter to come running out with a smug grin, flaunting her success. Instead, he got empty silence in response. He returned to the kitchen. “Vedika, she’s not answering. She didn’t go outside, did she?” His voice was full of concern.

Vedika shook her head, lines of worry on her forehead. “I didn’t hear the door or see her go outside, she has to be in the house.” Vedika moved to the doorway of the kitchen, “Amira honey, lunch is ready, you can come out now! You won, and Daddy is a big loser! ” She called out in a loud voice.

Abram and Vedika exchanged a nervous glance when no response came. Amira was not one to ignore her parents’ calls. Although she was playful, she was not naughty.

Abram walked around the house, calling out emphatically for her, “Amira? Amira! Where are you, princess?”

Each passing second, Abram felt his tension mounting. Vedika also sounded more worried as she joined in, calling out for Amira. After about thirty seconds of this frantic search, Abram turned to Vedika. “You search the house again, I’m going to look outside in case she is there.”

Abram sprinted out of the back door, the first pangs of real panic set in. His chest felt tight and his movements were disoriented as many horrible thoughts ran through his mind. What if she’s hurt? What if she went outside and has been taken? How long has she been missing? He quickly searched the small backyard, calling her name with a rapidly amplified voice infused with growing dread. He ran around the house several times, checking within and around every shrub, bush or flowerbed. He pushed the vegetation aside unceremoniously as he grew increasingly agitated. He stood in the middle of the yard and tried to think like her to figure out where she might have hidden. It was no use.

Abram’s heart clenched tight. He hoped with all his heart that she was fine.

“Is she out there?” He heard Vedika call from the door.

Abram’s heart felt heavy in his chest. “No,” he shouted back and walked apprehensively to the side gate, to look outside their yard and see if she was there. However, he took one look at the gate and heaved a sigh of relief, knowing she couldn’t possibly have gone out through it. The rusted iron gate was padlocked. He dashed back inside to find Vedika in tears, desperately calling out for Amira.

He proceeded to comfort her, joining his voice with hers to call for their daughter, till he thought he heard something. “Wait. Shh.” he shushed her, cocking his head to one side, “Did you hear that?”

They both kept quiet and Abram heard a faint sound from the basement. He raced towards the basement and Vedika followed behind him, confused. She hadn’t heard a thing.

There, he thought, when he got to the door of the basement. The faint coughing sound he thought he’d heard had become slightly more pronounced. He pushed open the door and it creaked, as if it was annoyed by the disturbance. He faced pitch-black darkness. Abram’s anxiety propelled him and he took the steps two at a time.

When he got to the room, he called out again, “Amira! Baby, are you down here?”

The door creaked as Vedika opened it. She stopped at the doorway, wiping the remainder of her tears. “Is she down there?” She flipped the light switch.

He hadn’t known that Vedika was following him and the sound of her voice made him jump. “I don’t know, but I’m sure I heard something.”

Abram had mixed feelings. He was hoping they would find her, but was also scared because with all the dangerous things down here and all the different ways to get hurt, the basement might as well be called a booby-trap. He took a deep shaky breath and fumbled around in the dark.

Looking past the dusty insulation wires strewn among the roof beams, he saw, right in front of him, a small handprint on a dusty wooden board resting upright against the wall. He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Vedika, I think she’s here.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Vedika said from the doorway, her voice shrill with relief.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her press her fist against her lips anxiously. He called out for his daughter again more vigorously. “Amira? Answer me!” he yelled, worry tying his stomach in knots.

He heard a rasping sound and turned immediately in that direction, searching for where it came from. Right at the edge of the slanting roofline, he caught sight of a portion of pink fabric, the same colour as the t-shirt Amira was wearing. He moved closer and could only see her arms lying on the floor, motionless, between an old, dusty wooden cupboard and the back wall. His heart hammering against his chest, he clambered towards the thin space, ducking his head to avoid banging it against the low roof, trying to negotiate his way past the beams. At the edge of what looked like a deep, wide pothole– a crack in the concrete which had widened–he stopped. He looked more closely and realised why he hadn’t been able to see her fully. She seemed to be curled up as if asleep, lying about fifteen feet away.

Abram took another step towards Amira. Not being able to see what was in the hole and not wanting to take any chances, he grabbed a nearby wooden board and lowered it over the pothole. He then walked cautiously on it towards her. Just as he got to the middle, the wood cracked beneath his feet, almost breaking in half and making him stumble. He cursed loudly.

“Abram? Is everything all right?” Vedika asked.

“Yes, don’t worry,” he called back. He reached up, grabbing hold of a roof beam with one hand and using it to support his weight as he moved gently on the board with his toes, trying to walk as quickly as he could.

When he got close enough to Amira, he stretched out an arm and said loudly, “Amira baby, wake up and reach for Daddy.” Amira lay still, unmoving. He could tell that she was alive by the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest and the rasping wheeze of her breathing, the sound he had heard earlier.

He inched his way further, holding on to the beam, and crouched till his knees touched his chest so he could reach for her. The ceiling was too low, she was wedged tightly against the wall, and he was in much too precarious a position to risk grabbing her. They could both fall and get badly injured by the derelict beams. He contemplated the whole situation, trying to figure out a way to get to her safely.

“Is she there? Is she okay?” Vedika called out.

Abram had almost forgotten Vedika was waiting behind him. “She’s here!” He called out without moving or turning his head. His own voice sounded hoarse and unrecognisable to him. He cleared his throat. “But don’t come down, stay there. I’ll bring her up,” he said, although it was almost impossible for him to move.

Abram gritted his teeth, held on tighter to the roof beam and reached for her, managing to get his fingers around her sneaker. He gripped it and pulled her gently towards him to avoid bruising her. When she got close enough to him, he eased his arm under her midsection and lifted her up, pulling her small frame against his chest before he turned and started back the way he’d come.

As soon as he had crossed the area with the pothole, he let go of the roof beam and held Amira with both hands. Her skin felt hot; she was burning with a fever. Her face was covered in sweat, too much sweat to simply be a result of the warm place she had got wedged in. Shaken and worried, he ascended the stairs as fast as he could, racking his brains to try and remember the last first aid course he had taken. Check for a response and ensure her airway is clear, then put her in the recovery position. He called her name repeatedly, his breath quickening as he patted her gently on the face. He got no response except the back-and-forth movement of her eyes behind her eyelids which indicated that she was probably dreaming. But his daughter wasn’t such a deep sleeper, normally she would have woken up by now. It was unsettling to him that she could sleep through all this. They got to the landing at the top of the stairs and found Vedika waiting.

She rushed forward and took Amira from his hands, gasping as she felt how hot her body was. “My baby!” she exclaimed. “What happened?” She looked up at Abram.

“I don’t know,” he whispered fretfully.

Seeing his own anxiety reflected on Vedika’s face, his heart hammered against his chest. He took Amira back from her, placed her on the floor and knelt, inserting two fingers into her mouth. No obstruction.

Vedika dashed to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. When she returned, she looked concernedly at Abram. “Is she okay?”

Abram looked up at her doubtfully. In a bid to reassure her, he said, “I think she’s just sleeping.”

But Vedika wasn’t convinced. At the sight of her daughter, pale and unmoving on the tattered sofa, tears spilled down her face. She fell to her knees and opened the bottle of water, pouring it all over her daughter’s head as she stroked her hair. “Amira. We’re here baby,” she whispered.

After a while, Amira coughed and opened her eyes. Her eyes found her father’s face first. “You found me,” she whispered.

“Darling, you’re awake, ”Vedika said with a shaky smile on her lips. Their bodies visibly relaxed, Vedika and Abram breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Despite the residual tension and the gravity of the situation, Abram couldn’t help noticing that his daughter carried that strange acerbic odour that he had initially smelled. It was as if she had been doused in it. It turned his stomach and made him uneasy.

“Vedika, can’t you smell this?” He asked.

She sniffed the air for a moment. “Smell what?” she replied, perplexed.

His brows furrowed. “You mean you don’t smell it?”

She grew impatient. “What smell?”

“Uh… Never mind, ” he said, not wanting to add to her worries. Vedika looked at him warily. Why couldn’t she smell it? Abram thought. Was something wrong with him?

He shook those thoughts from his mind as it wandered towards the basement. He couldn’t see how Amira could have made it down there. The wooden door, though old and battered, was very heavy. How on earth did she even know about that place? He wondered. Remembering how he had almost fallen and the way the insulation wires could have easily entangled him.

* * *

After Vedika had given Amira a cool bath and changed her clothes to get rid of all the dust, they finally sat down for a late lunch. While eating, Abram exchanged a look with Vedika and they each understood what the other was thinking: We need to talk to her. They needed to know how she had fallen into such a deep slumber, wedged into a tight spot in the basement. How she got there in the first place was a mystery. Abram turned his head towards Amira and was about to open his mouth when out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vedika shake her head subtly, as if to say I’ve got this. Abram focused on his food. Vedika was more adept with children than he was anyway, she could handle this better.

Vedika turned to Amira, “Amira honey, Daddy and I were wondering… Why did you hide down in the basement?” she asked.

Abram waited to hear her response.

Amira shifted in her seat and shrugged. “I heard a voice that told me it would be a good place to hide.”

Voice? Abram thought, What sort of voice?

“Voice? Oh, wow! You have a friend?” Vedika said with a smile, “Why didn’t you tell us about your friend?”

“Well, I haven’t met him yet,” Amira said. “He promised to meet soon.”

How then did she hear his voice if she hadn’t seen him in person?

“What’s his name?” Vedika asked, calmly eating her bread as if nothing was wrong.

“I don’t know,” Amira said.

Abram was very confused, but Vedika seemed to be fine with the whole thing. Vedika, seeing Abram’s bewildered expression, chuckled and said: “Imaginary friend.” Abram narrowed his eyes, looking back at his daughter.

Vedika continued, “Well, Daddy and I should be done cleaning the house in a few hours,then we’ll have the rest of the day free. I was thinking… Maybe you could introduce us to your new friend?”

Amira tilted her head to one side as if listening to someone. A blank look crept into her eyes, then she shook her head, “I’m feeling a bit tired, Mummy. Some other time, maybe? I am too tired and want to sleep.”

Abram spoke up, “Amira how were you able to open the door to the basement? That door’s really heavy.”

Amira looked at him as if she didn’t understand his question. “I pushed it,” she said.

“Okay, but no more playing in the basement, understand? You really scared us,” Vedika said.

Amira nodded and, finishing her lunch, pushed her chair back and rose from the table. She left the kitchen and headed upstairs.Abram waited till she had gone before turning to Vedika. “You’re not worried about this?” he asked, surprised.

Vedika shook her head, collecting Amira’s dishes from the table, “Imaginary friends are nothing to worry about, Abram. Many children have them.”

“I don’t remember ever having an imaginary friend,” Abram mused.

Vedika paused, looking Abram in the eye, “Abram, trust me. It’s a good thing, really. Children with imaginary friends develop faster than other children. It’s… well, it’s a unique form of play. It’s good for her emotional and mental health.”

“I’m still not sure about this,” Abram said getting to his feet and helping her pick up the rest of the lunch dishes, “It doesn’t feel right.”

Vedika dropped the last of the dishes in the sink, turning to hug him from behind, placing her head against his back. “What are you going to do, Abram?” She squeezed his torso. “Forbid her to play with the friends in her head? Just don’t worry about it. Children usually grow out of it.” She let go of him, walking around him to look at him directly. “Come to think of it, this could just be the way her mind chooses to express her anxiety about moving house and adjusting to a new environment.”

“You’re probably right. I’m just worried about her,” he said.

Vedika snorted and gave him a squeeze before picking up a dish towel. “Give it ten more years when she starts dating boys, then you should start to worry.”

“Well, thanks for that.” Abram said, laughing. “Really puts things into perspective.”

As he dried his hands and Vedika went back to arranging the dishes, he suddenly remembered how Amira’s body temperature had alarmed him when he first picked her up.

“Vedika, did you notice her body was hot as iron. And the sweating too. Do you think she might be coming down with something?”

Vedika’s brows creased thoughtfully. “After I bathed Amira, her body temperature went right back to normal, so it could just have been the heat. But then she was so hot… It did feel as if she was burning from inside. And she fell into a deep sleep while playing, that’s unusual.”

“Did you notice how she was unusually quiet at the table? She also mentioned just now that she was exhausted after just waking up a few minutes ago,” Abram said.

Vedika finished arranging the dishes and stood back, suddenly worried for her daughter. “Maybe she’s caught an infection or something. Or maybe her body just finds it difficult to adjust. Either way, you’re right, it’s really worrying. We should get her checked, just in case.”

Abram nodded. “Yes, let’s take her to the doctor first thing tomorrow.”

* * * *

The Khubala village hospital, if it could even still be called a hospital, was a ramshackle structure situated in a small decrepit tenement. The woebegone concrete columns looked as if they were barely able to support the crumbling walls. The entire building was in dire need of urgent intervention; it ran the risk of collapsing at any point. The superstitious and conservative villagers ignored the hospital, leaving it in a state of disrepair. They preferred their traditional and religious methods when it came to treating ailments and would rather visit the witch-doctor or Bhuva than go to the hospital. The hospital was seen as a curse. Even now it was empty, and its emptiness gave it a hostile and unwelcoming ambience. Rather than giving an air of compassion and hope, it felt like the embodiment of depression. The distinct smell of death lingered in the air. Abram felt uncomfortable and just wanted to get Amira checked out and leave as soon as possible.

The hospital had became a refuge for the homeless who used it as a shelter during the night. Fortunately for them, the hospital doors were open to everyone at all times of day. Of all the strange things about the hospital, the most striking one was the absence of hospital staff. The hospital was managed and run by Dr. Trivedi, a man who arrived with a vision of transforming Khubala into a modern village, but got his thanks in the form of taunts and rejection.

Dr. Trivedi was quite old. Too old to still be actively working. He had a smattering of grey hair on his balding head and a slightly hunched frame. He also walked with a limp, leaning slightly to the left. He seemed to have problems with his joints. His freckled face had a sagging, tired look and his withered lips trembled when he spoke. His words were few and far between, spoken in a hoarse mumbled tone.

Though by profession he was a doctor, he spent most of his time in his garden, tending to vegetables and getting rid of the weeds. His house was just a stone’s throw from the hospital.

One could see in his warm brown eyes his desire to connect with people. The years of loneliness and isolation had probably made him age faster. Abram felt a twinge of sympathy for him. The people of Khubala could be really xenophobic, even when a stranger had spent years living among them.

On seeing Abram carry Amira in, Vedika walking behind them, the doctor promptly guided them to a small examination room where a bare trolley stood against the wall. From the top of the trolley hung an empty IV tube. Abram put Amira down on the trolley and asked Vedika if she wanted to sit in the worn armchair in the lobby while he explained to the doctor why they had come. She refused. Abram scanned the room. There was not a single comforting thing about it. The paint from the walls was peeling, exposing the concrete and the twisted pipes running beneath it. A web of moss clung to the crevices, water had seeped into the wall. The moss ran along almost the full length of the wall, making the room seem darker than it was.

Abram quickly narrated the incident that occurred in the basement to the doctor and the subsequent fever that Amira had developed. The doctor listened patiently, nodding his head slowly. Much to Abram’s and Vedika’s chagrin, after Abram recounted what had happened, the doctor ushered them into the lobby to wait while he carried out a physical examination on Amira.

The doctor helped Amira lie on the trolley. He checked her body temperature, her heart rate, respiratory rate and her reflexes, noting that Amira appeared to be in excellent health. He examined her nostrils with a speculum and a flashlight. No sign of inflammation or of tenderness.

“Did you feel tired while you were playing with your dad?”

“No,” she replied.

“Really?” The doctor asked. “I heard you fell asleep while playing.”

“Well, yes I did. We were playing hide-and-seek and I was waiting for Daddy to find me, but he took so long that I got bored. He doesn’t even know how to play a simple game,” Amira scoffed playfully, oblivious to the worries and doubts in her parents’ minds.

“I see.” The doctor laughed with her, tweaking Amira’s nose teasingly. He took her wrist in his hand and measured her pulse. It was 98 beats per minute, well within the normal range. He checked her skin for any sign of rashes. None. Amira giggled amusedly as he checked her vitals. They were all normal for a eleven-year-old.

The doctor noted her lively and playful appearance. He conducted other tests and found the results normal.

He lifted Amira’s hand and pressed the soft pad of her fingernails. Her capillary filling was slightly delayed. He pulled her eyelids up and down with his thumb and noted his observations: her pupils were reactive and mildly moist.

“Does this hurt?” Amira giggled and nodded in the negative as he pinched the skin on the back of her hand. The skin sank slowly and didn’t even sink all the way.

All through the physical exam, Abram was restless. He paced back and forth in the small waiting room so much that he was certain his boots had worn a path into the concrete floor. Although, the windows were thrown open, Abram still felt claustrophobic. It was cramped and had a harsh clinical atmosphere. He felt sick to his stomach just standing in the room, but that could also be as a result of his nervousness. It seemed as if the doctor and Amira had been in that examination room for hours. The buzz from the overhead fluorescent lighting gave him a migraine, and the blinding pain concentrated behind his right eye. The silence in the hospital perturbed him; he felt it echoing in his ears. He tried hard to relax, sitting beside Vedika on the armchair, then stood again when he got too agitated.

“Abram, stop!”Vedika said in a harsh whisper. “You’re making me even more tense.” She sat stiffly in the chair, wringing her hands together and looking distressed. Abram gave her a blank look, too caught up in his own anxiety to reply.

Abram sat down again, moving his knees so they bounced off each other every five seconds. When he got tired of that, he placed his hands on his knees to stop them from bouncing and looked around. He stared at the walls, their gloomy texture made him uneasy. He had no intention of staying overnight in a ghostly hospital. He averted his eyes from the walls and began chewing his fingernail to distract himself. Abram felt high-strung, riddled with angst from waiting for so long. He clambered to his feet each time he thought he heard the doctor moving in his direction.

Vedika stared at him intently. “We are bad parents to let her go through this,” Vedika sighed.

The fact that she even reacted in this fashion told Abram that he needed to forgo his own stress and worry. They were in this together. He needed to offer support and be supported in turn. “Hey, I’m right here okay?” he said, reaching out to grip her nervous hand, “And we love our daughter. Don’t we?”

She squeezed tight as if she derived strength, “I’m just so terrified Abram. How could she have got there? How did she fall asleep so fast? I hope she is fine?” Vedika whispered and he heard how difficult saying the words felt for her. Just the thought of it hurt him. If something happened to Amira, he knew he would be wounded by pain so deep it would never leave him. He glanced at the clock and it appeared not to have moved at all. He wanted to know right now, what happened to his daughter, not in ten minutes or two hours or ten million years it felt like he already spent in this room.

“We don’t know anything. She could be fine. We just have to trust that she is in the best hands possible,” he said.

“It’s just been so long Abram, why haven’t we heard anything? I’m so scared for my baby Abram. Just, please hold me,” her eyes begged for comfort.

Abram wrapped his arms around her, trying to make soothing noises. At that moment, Dr. Trivedi returned and stood in front of them, startling them both.

“She is perfectly fine. No sign of insomnia, low energy, loss of interest in enjoyable activities. Is she asthmatic?”

“No.” Vedika’s eyes widened.

“Well, there is nothing to worry, for now, I suppose.” Dr. Trivedi’s eyes glowed warmly.

The fact that Amira needn’t spend the night at the hospital was a huge relief for Abram who longed to be in the comfort of his home.

“What happened to her?”

“I imagine its hay fever coupled with slight dehydration. You said you found her in the basement?”

“Yes.”

“Dust can become a bane for a healthy existence. You say the house was locked for years. It is natural for everything to be covered in dust, especially the basement. Exposure to allergens can cause the immune system to react in violent ways.”

“Is it serious?” Vedika muffled her sobs.

“No. Not at all. Children suffer episodes of heightened energy at one moment and feel low the very next moment.“ The doctor took out the small box of medicines and removing a few red-white pills, “This should help for now.”

“What is this?” Vedika asked, a worried expression on her face.

“Diphenhydramine. It is an antihistamine. It will help relieve the fever. Medicines are a rarity in this village. Fortunately, I too have dust allergies. Be sure to increase her fluid intake.”

“Are you going to prick me with a needle?” Amira whispered, her eyes wide open.

Drawing blood scared Amira. Every time the comforting lies of the technician bolstered her courage, but the moment the needle penetrated her skin, she experienced a terrible pain.

Dr. Trivedi smiled at her reassuringly, “No sweety. The needle is afraid of you.”

Amira laughed heartily.

While leaving the hospital, Abram felt as if he was being watched. His head turned back. He hated the village hospital and hurried as fast as he could, holding Amira in his arms, to get away quickly.

* * *

Abram flipped the light switch and closed his eyes, trying to sleep. He was exhausted. A faint sound caught his ears. Startled, he strained his ears. Nothing. He dismissed it as a figment of his imagination.

A muffled laugh caught his ears again. This time it was deep and clear.

Abram pushed himself up on one elbow, cocked his head and listened for a moment. It was Amira’s voice. So the little princess was not asleep. His glanced to his side to check on Vedika, but she was fast asleep next to him. Carefully, he rose ensuring not to wake her up and tiptoed towards the door.

He paused outside Amira’s room. The door was shut. He thought of tapping, but quickly decided against it. Bringing his ears closer to the wooden frame, he listened to Amira’s soft giggles. Amira seemed to be singing. He wanted to sneak into Amira’s room without making a noise. He heard the sound of heavy panting. Worried for the safety of his daughter, he abruptly opened the door.

“Who on earth are you talking to?” Abram sleepily asked as he entered her room, rubbing one of his eyes.

For a moment Amira was startled. “Nobody.” She cupped her mouth with her palms trying to stifle her laughter.

Abram joined her on the bed, sitting close enough for his leg to rub against her thigh.

“Liar.” picking her up, he laid her on his lap. But she slipped from his grip and dropped to her back, giggling loudly. “I heard you singing a song. Which song were you singing?”

“Umm…I was learning to sing.”

“Now! And who is teaching you?” Abram’s intrigue mounted. “Come on, tell me.”

“He says no.”

“Who?”

“Dad?”Amira looked back with a surprised expression.

“Come on. Tell me. Remember no secrets between us”.

Amira pulled herself up and sat where she had fallen. She smiled awkwardly, stretching her arms to the ceiling.

“I was singing…um..for Stuffy,” she sputtered, pointing her eyes towards the stuffed mouse.

Abram noticed she bit her lip.

“My ears were ringing then.” He mimicked her.

“Right,” she rolled her eyes.

Abram felt his worries were unfounded. He remembered Vedika’s words, Children play with anything they can lay their hands on. Abram moaned as he struggled to get back up. “Were you just sitting there on the bed talking to yourself?” he chuckled, tilting his head at her.

“I have no friends here except Stuffy.” She waved her stuffed toy in his face, “I didn’t feel like sleeping.”

“All right Missy.” Abram tucked Amira under the blanket. “You must get some rest or else you will feel lazy for the whole day, and your mother won’t like it.” He smirked. He catwalked to the door, opened it slightly and turned around abruptly to find Amira sitting up, watching him. “Now what has happened?”

Amira tried to control her laughter. She nodded her head with her eyes pointing to the ceiling.

“Dad, he is hovering over you with his mouth hanging wide open.” Amira found it difficult to control her laughter.

He jerked his head upwards but couldn’t see a thing. Amira’s comments genuinely scared him. His nerves were on edge. But he couldn’t afford to let it show.

“Are we talking about that weird friend of yours?” Abram asked, giving Amira a quizzical look. “Greet him for me.”

Amira rolled over on her stomach, “He is making faces at you. No…don’t.” She waved her arms in the air.

“Amira, enough!” Abram swung the door shut again. “What’s all this about?”

“Dad! Before you give me that look, it’s not me.”

“I believe you. Go on,” he said, slouching on one of the chairs that faced Amira’s bed.

“I’m feeling sleepy,” said Amira inaudibly through a loud yawn.

“Did I scare your friend away?”

“It’s nothing.” Amira spread her palms open, “Look no one’s there.”

“You scared the living hell out of me. Now go to sleep.” Abram carefully tucked her into the blanket. Amira slept soundly within seconds. Strange. He thought. He glanced at the ceiling and thought he saw the fan spinning in the opposite direction. Startled, he inched himself upwards to have a closer look. It was his imagination.

Abram switched off the lights and paced towards the side of the bed, lifting one of the frames which was askew. It was the family photograph where all three of them were smiling. He smiled to himself and turned the frame around to see if there was anything written at the back. A note plastered on the back of the frame read:

To many more fulfilling years of the perfect marriage.With love, Vedika.

He placed the photo frame carefully on the bedside table and turned towards Amira who was sleeping soundly.

Abram was jolted by a loud bang. Aghast, he ran towards Amira fearing the worst. He was relieved to see her small frame comfortably tucked under the blanket. Hastily, he switched on the light and saw a paper bag hanging over the wobbling fan. He heaved a sigh of relief. He was convinced that the sound was caused by the pressure of air inside the paper bag. He could still hear a faint ringing in his ears. Thankfully the sound failed to disturb Amira’s sleep.

On his way out, Abram checked behind the door. There was no one behind it. He took careful steps towards the doorway, peeking out. The empty void stared back at him.

As he walked back towards his room something sharp thrust through the wedge between his toes, making him shriek. For a moment he froze. He bent, picking up a small stone. He laughed at himself for assuming something sinister in the vicinity

* * * *

Amira slowly opened her eyes. For a moment she felt a throbbing inside her skull but she determinedly cleared her head and felt better. She was an energetic girl and loved to paint her sketchbook. Sometimes, she would blackout as she drew, then unexpectedly recover.

She smiled as she looked at two golden orbs staring down at her. A mark appeared on her leg as if someone was kneading through the skin of her ankle, digging nails into her soft skin. It hurt, and she scolded him in a disarming way. She arched her back on hearing the strange gurgling sounds. She couldn’t recall a time that she saw anything unusual when Shiva was present. She thought of him as her guardian angel.

If anyone asked, Shiva was pretty much Amira’s best friend. Vedika, who brushed Shiva aside as her imaginary friend, asked her once where she found him and she replied that he was the one who had found her. She had a blackout while playing in the basement, then she came back to her senses, rocking back and forth. She had felt lost – she was lost. It had been very cold in the basement and she felt numb, but then Shiva, who appeared from nowhere approached her cautiously. At first his sudden presence scared her, but the darkness of the basement forced her to seek comfort in his company. Within moments Shiva won her over with his soft demeanour. Surprisingly his presence brought warmth. No one believed her story, but it was how she remembered it happening.

Amira squeezed toothpaste out of the tube. She missed the cap of the toothbrush, dropping a lump of paste on the floor.

“Amira…wake up. Breakfast is ready.” Vedika’s shrill voice resonated through the air.

“I have to run, mother is calling. Don’t you play mischief again!” She ran out of the room hurriedly, and looked back to find emptiness staring at her. While descending the stairs she heard the bathroom door close, smiling to herself. Shiva was her best kept secret and a staunch friend.

Amira stood in her plaid skirt and pearl-white blouse, with a mug of chocolate in her hand. She considered herself a lucky child. She had doting parents who took great care of her in every possible manner, a friend she’d always dreamed of, the only thing she missed was a normal life.

Of late her vivid imagination, as others would call it, had turned mostly black and grey. Imagination is deliberate visualisation, she remembered her father’s words. And there was nothing deliberate about being shoved into a dark realm where she stood paralysed, capable of nothing but counting the minutes till it ended.

* * *

“Amira, honey you are late again.” Vedika scolded her in a playful tone as she moved to the table where Amira was seated. It had become an everyday affair. Amira spent very little time with her parents. For practically the entire day she was occupied in her room drawing doodles or playing with her imaginary friend. She didn’t like to associate with people anymore, not since she found her new friend, and moved into her own space. Abram found her behaviour strange, but Vedika thought he was paranoid and brushed aside his apprehensions.

“Here, I have specially made for you.”

Amira stared at the bare bulb in the ceiling. It was flickering. Slow. Quick. Slow. It was almost like Morse code.

“What is it?”

“It’s speaking to me.”

Vedika looked down at her daughter. She was staring into the light, her eyes glued on the white bulb. There was nothing wrong with the bulb; it was just an inanimate object. Vedika reached her hand up, twisted the bulb in tighter. The hot surface burned her fingers. Snatching them back she hissed, holding them in his other hand. Glancing up, she saw that the light was now steady. She sighed.

“Did you hear the whispering?” Amira asked quietly.

“What whispering?” Vedika was annoyed. Her hand hurt.

“It was whispering, before you screwed it in. It was saying awful things, horrible things…”

Vedika gripped Amira by the shoulders, “What’s wrong with you? Are you okay?”

Abruptly Amira jumped at the sound of her mother’s voice. She looked at her as if she snapped out of trance.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Amira shrugged.

Amira picked up the stainless steel plate which was shiny enough for her to see her reflection. “What was it?” The hall which showed behind her reflection was nothing like what she expected to see. It was grey and decaying. She turned abruptly, but everything appeared normal. “Strange”, she thought.

“What happened sweetie? Why are you playing with the dish?”

“Nothing Mummy.” She brushed aside what she saw focusing on breakfast.

Vedika’s eyes were concerned, worry filled her again. She had never seen Amira act that way before. She made a mental note to talk to Abram.

“I have to prepare the meal before your father arrives,” Vedika said, moving towards the kitchen before pausing and looking back. “In fact, you should spend more time with your father. It seems he is longing for your company.” She smiled.

Vedika liked the feeling of using her authority. It made her feel in control, which was something she didn’t always have the luxury of enjoying.

Being the only child of the house, Amira often had her own way. She doodled in the privacy of her own room. She loved to rest her sketchbook in her lap and draw all the creatures she met in her dreams. Not all of them were hostile. But suddenly she felt as if someone lingered in the background, curiously watching her as she proceeded with her everyday activities.

“Slacking off again, are you?” Vedika said with her head tilted.

“No!” Amira replied sarcastically. “My sketchbook is just a draft of the characters I meet”. She took out her sketchbook and placed it on the table. “You see this one right here?” She pointed at a formless shape, which looked like a pile of slime with eyes. “He is Shiva. He looked exactly like this when I first met him.”

“What the hell is that?” Vedika asked, squinting. “Why does he look like this?”

“I don’t know”. Amira’s voice lowered. She stopped herself before she said too much.

“It appears that you have an exciting new assignment,” Vedika said, grabbing one of the pages of the sketchbook.

“Maa. Never do that.” Amira snatched the sketchbook and pushed it inside a small shoulder bag.

Vedika snickered. “Does this little monster sleep next to you?”

“He’s not a monster.” Amira’s smile disappeared. She replied sternly. “He’s a big, fluffy shadow, and he keeps me safe.”

“Well, it’s a shame he’s not here, then.”

Vedika smirked. Her heels clicked on the concrete floor as she walked to the kitchen door, and then looked back at Amira, straightening her locks. “He’s cute. I was just teasing you.”

“I know,” Amira replied without taking her eyes off the sketchbook, which she had pulled out from the bag again.

Amira continued shading in the formless figure clumsily, with a number two pencil, wondering what Shiva could possibly be doing. She enjoyed Shiva’s company, but his demeanour made him goofy. While spacing out, she’d over-shaded her drawing. It felt as if she was spiralling into another blackout, but she snapped out of it and dropped the sketchbook on the table, rubbing her forehead vigorously.

The drawing blinked.

Amira lifted her eyes in concern and glared at the book. Perhaps it was all in her head, she thought.

It blinked again.

* * * *

As Amira got to her feet, the scenery flickered. She glanced at her mother, and could tell she was the only one who saw that. It flickered again, showing the decaying surroundings she had seen in the dish’s reflection. A maggot fell from the table’s surface and onto the floor. She furrowed her brows in disgust, and glared at her empty plate. There was nothing rotten in sight. She looked back at the floor and the maggot vanished.

“Everything all right?” Vedika asked, looking in Amira’s direction, immediately alert to the change in her daughter. It was both endearing and slightly frustrating when Amira tried to keep something secret.

“Yes, everything’s fine.” Amira sighed finally dropping her spoon on the table.

She felt heavier than usual, as if there were weights in her shoes. She trudged towards the stairs with her indoor slippers sounding on the concrete floor. She climbed a step, and rested her back on the concrete railing, regarding the framed photograph of her family on the wall. Vedika loved to frame family photographs around the house. Amira strongly resembled her mother with thick black hair and lustrous black eyes.

Suddenly, the frame tilted.

Her parents’ smiles slowly turned into scowls. She took a step down, rubbing her eyes before she took another look at the photo. Their eyes were bleeding as the photograph seemed to melt into a formless blob of multi-coloured oil paint. She could hear voices emanating from the photo. The voices turned hoarse. One of the voices sounded like her father’s, and it whispered “The sea of blood is coming.” Another unfamiliar rasping voice howled, “The dance of death is about to begin.” Whispers and howls conglomerated into a deafening dissonance. Amira covered her ears with her palms, but the noises seemed to come from inside her head.

She raced back to the kitchen, telling herself that none of it was real. She clumsily snatched a glass, which was placed upside down next to the kitchen sink, and filled it with tap water. She drank it in seconds,taking deep breaths with her eyes shut. When the voices faded into space, she took careful steps back to the photograph. They looked exactly as they had been earlier.

Amira gasped. “How was it possible? Was her mind playing another sick game?”

She opened her mouth to call her mother. But she heard a familiar hissing sound. Shiva! Maybe he was playing the disconcerting game again.

Amira hurried towards her room and turned the knob slowly expecting Shiva to surprise her, but there was no sign of him. Her eyes strayed towards the window, and in a blink of the moment, she was aghast to see the colourless graveyard outside.

She hesitated, but everything returned back to normal.

“Shiva, where are you?” she asked, her voice shook as she dropped her shoulder bag on the small wooden table by the bed. She kicked her slippers off midway to her room and threw herself face-down on the bed.

“Shiva! Come here, I need cuddles,” her muffled voice said with her face in the pillow.

She felt the cold wind caressing her arm and smiled. She raised her head, staring thoughtfully at emptiness. It was strange. Shiva’s complexion began to turn dark in the past few days. He smiled less, and always seemed lost in thought.

Amira sprang out of bed and looked back to find Shiva had disappeared. She sighed and gazed towards the ceiling. Suddenly the light flickered. This was becoming a regular occurrence. She heard the crackling and squinted at the light bulb to check if it was about to pop. I have to remind Dad again to change the light bulbs in the room. Though it was noon, she flipped the light switch and closed her eyes.

An inaudible cacophony of whispers wafted over her. Since yesterday she had been hearing voices in her head. The voices sounded familiar, but she never understood what they said. They scared her.

The lights flickered again.

Amira remembered how her grandmother once told her that the flickering of light meant the presence of spirits of other dimensions who were waiting to pass a message. She had laughed then. She stared at the light bulb. She could feel her thoughts crowding her mind.

She flopped on the bed, dropping her head on a pile of pillows. It was early afternoon but she felt a nearly-hypnotic urge to doze. She felt as if she hadn’t slept for weeks. She allowed her eyelids to drop and surrendered to the sleep overtaking her.

A woman stood in front of her. She wore a long black coat, and her face was covered with a black scarf. Amira couldn’t move, she felt as if her entire body was paralysed. The eyes behind the scarf looked at her, but they didn’t seem to see her. Everything appeared hazy. The sound of an air horn startled Amira. An instant later she realised it was the woman screaming at her. She froze as she watched the woman approach, blinking slowly and tilting her head slightly. It wasn’t just a scream, she was cursing her. The woman stood inches away from her face spewing words in a cryptic language. The rotten stench emanating from the woman made Amira’s stomach churn. The woman began pulling her hair. Fresh blood sprayed the woman’s face as she screamed. Suddenly the woman began biting her arm, trying to tear it. A trail of blood ran over her cheeks. With her eyes fixed on Amira, she latched onto her hand, gnawing fiercely making a hoarse sound. Before Amira could understand anything, she flapped her bloodstained torn arm and slapped Amira. A pool of blood splashed over Amira’s face staining her black hair.

Amira sprang up from her bed. She panted heavily, trying to make sense of what she had just seen.

Her legs dangled from the high rise bed frame. She wasn’t sure what to make her dream. There was no sign of Shiva. “Mummy,” her shrill voice resonated in the house. She ran towards the door to find comfort in her mother’s arms.

* * *

Bhoir whistled as he pushed open the rusted black wrought-iron gate. He knocked and waited. Every Saturday, he visited Dongarpada in the evening to attend the weekly market fair. Today was special, however, because he was meeting Rajjo, a vegetable vendor from the nearby village, and had a date with her that evening. They planned to meet at the market fair and then go to see a movie. Rajjo would be responsible for booking the tickets in advance. He smiled secretly, thinking about Rajjo’s beautiful eyes.

The creaking noise of the door opening abruptly interrupted his blissful ruminations.

“What is it? What are you doing here?” Aarti asked at the sight of Bhoir, with a derisive expression on her face.

Bhoir looked at her disinterestedly. “Sir asked me to examine the basement.”

“Nobody’s home. Come later” Aarti said, closing the door, but Bhoir held it open, pushing against it with his palm.

“I don’t need them to be home. Besides, who are you to decide whether this is the right time or not? I am here to do my job, and if you prevent me, I will inform Sir that you were the reason I wasn’t able to work,” he replied, shrugging.

Aarti hesitated for a moment. “Fine.” She opened the door, eyeing him suspiciously. She led him to the back of the house towards the basement. “Let me know when you leave,” she replied sourly, then shut the door behind him, heading towards the kitchen.

Bhoir hated working on Saturdays. But Abram insisted that he should start the work immediately. “The place is in a shocking state. It needs to be attended to right away”, he had said. Bhoir agreed to come in and inspect it.

Going in the direction Aarti had pointed out, the air felt heavy and humid, as it pressed down against his chest, and he struggled to breathe. The door to the basement was made of unburnished wood and hung loosely on its hinges, flapping back and forth with every gust of wind. Due to the water leakage over the years, it was spongy and decaying at the top and covered in mould.

Bhoir’s stomach turned.

His hand gripped the shoulder bag he carried tightly. A long crack ran down the middle of the door through which one could view the inside. The rotten wall, hunched from years of gravity and poor maintenance, appeared on the verge of collapse. A huge Banyan tree planted in the backyard obstructed the brilliant orange sunlight coming in from the windows and cast a dark grey shadow over the basement’s surroundings.

The basement was almost completely dark. The wind blowing into the room made ominous sighing and gasping sounds. He hesitated, looking into the room through the crack on the door. All he could see was dense darkness.

He rubbed his palms together to warm them, taking deep breaths to calm himself. The yawning dark hole in the door seemed to stare at him menacingly, daring him to enter. He placed his hand on the shaky knob and, was about to open it and go in when a voice coming from behind startled him.

Looking back and seeing that it was just Aarti, he tried to conceal his relief.

“Aren’t you supposed to be inspecting the basement? Why are you just standing there?”

She stood with her arms folded and her eyebrows raised, leaning against the wall. Bhoir felt a momentary surge of annoyance, but suppressed it hastily. He would not let her incite him.

Glowering at her, he said, “Don’t lecture me on how to do my work.”

Aarti unfolded her arms and stood upright. “I only came to ask if you would like to have tea.”

“No,” he replied curtly, “I wouldn’t. And don’t come here to bother me again,” he added, gritting his teeth. He stared at her till she turned and disappeared back into the house.

Bhoir shook his head, gripping the torch in his hands. The cold plastic felt unpleasantly moist in his fingers, it was then he realised that his palm had been sweating. As soon as he pressed the switch, the small torch bulb flickered with intermittent bursts of light which steadied after a few moments.

He opened the door and entered the room, shining the torch around. Taking stock of his surroundings, he saw the light switch attached to the left wall. He flipped it. The burst of light came with a crackling sound, but died immediately. He cursed under his breath and carefully stepped forward, a sense of foreboding settled in his stomach. The wooden stairs below were narrow, moth-eaten and caked in dust. Everything was covered in dark grime.

The beam of his torchlight flickered around the room and fell on old wooden boxes, moth-eaten pipes, rotting wooden closets and other items he could not identify. He swallowed hard, suppressing the strong feeling of revulsion that overwhelmed him. Despite the light from the torch, the items in the room felt like tangible parts of the darkness.

Bhoir took a deep breath and descended the stairs, taking one step at a time and being careful not to touch anything. He tried to ignore the panic rising in his chest. There’s nothing to be scared of. It’s just an old basement. He mentally chided himself. As he stepped on the first stair, a cloud of dust rose and blew into his nostrils.

He coughed. The sound echoed through the room as if the room had coughed too, in response to him. His heart beat faster, and he nearly stumbled. He held onto the wall in an effort to straighten himself again, and his hand came away stained and sticky. He looked around frantically for a clean surface to wipe his hand on but found none. Taking another deep breath, he cleared his throat and descended the next few stairs, which creaked under his feet. As he put his foot on the last stair, it sank through the wood and got stuck. He lost his balance and nearly fell face first into the basement. Taking measured breaths to calm his racing heart, he gently extricated his leg from the wood and finally stepped into the room.

He flashed his torchlight around the room again. Everything seemed covered in thick layers of dirt. The basement was chilly and spewed a rancid odour. He tried not to gag. He had never seen a place so abandoned and unsightly in all his years of work. The air in the basement felt sinister. His panic intensified and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

He could not dispel the eerie feeling that he was being watched. He kept turning back, expecting to find Aarti looking at him from the doorway, yet, it was empty. He felt the darkness in all the parts not illuminated by his torch was suffocating, as if it was stealing the breath from his lungs. He resolved to work fast and get out as soon as possible.

He carefully rested his shoulder bag containing tools near the bottom of the staircase and fumbled through it, taking out a hammer. He wanted to check the walls first. Somehow he did not trust this place. This was the place which could be troublesome from the most expected of places.

Bhoir’s eyes caught a torn cardboard box set aside in the left corner. Curious to see what was inside the box, he cautiously walked towards it with the hammer in one hand and torch in the other. The rhythmic creaking of the wooden floorboards he trod on disturbed the silence. He bent over the box and flipped the hammer in his hand, using the wooden handle to nudge the box’s top flap open. Dropping the hammer and holding the torch in his mouth, he bent and sifted through the box with both hands.

It was filled with all sorts of junk. Suddenly, he came face to face with a ragged vintage doll. One cheek had fallen in and the nose was mangled. The neck had also been tampered with so that it tilted its head slightly to the left. It stared straight at him with one open eye while the other one rolled back in its head. Its arms were outstretched as if to embrace him.

Panicked, Bhoir stood up and retreated. His heart pounded faster and beads of perspiration emerged on his forehead. He hurried away from the box, causing the floorboards to make loud squeaking noises. His eyes darted to the box several times before he finally turned his back on it and focused his attention on other parts of the room. The basement was the embodiment of neglect and disrepair. In a way, he was happy, because the basement being obviously completely run-down meant he could demand more money, but the problem was getting over his panic and apprehension.

Suddenly, his eyes fell on the wall to his far right. The wall was punched in the middle, leaving a big hole. What could have caused such a large hole in the wall? Could it be an entrance to a secret passageway? Perhaps in the absence of the house occupants, a thief had somehow sneaked into the basement and shattered the wall to create for himself an easy entrance? Several thoughts raced through his mind all at once. He aimed his torch, despite the faint beam of light the interior of the hole was pitch-black.

Picking up his bag of tools and gripping his torch, he moved closer to the wall. A rusted hand saw, a tattered paper box of brownish-black rusted nails and a screw-driver were strewn all over the floor. In the other corner to the left of the wall stood two wooden boxes piled on top of each other. Next to the hole, in front of the wall adjacent on the right side to the wall with the hole in it, there was a moss covered wooden cupboard. He approached the front of the hole and flashed his torchlight inside it. It led to a concrete room of about 9 x 8 feet. He fumbled in his bag and took a drill, bullpins and a hammer, preparing to enter.

Bhoir stopped in his tracks. He was sure he heard a faint sound of an eerie howling. He turned his head abruptly. Nothing. He knelt down and ducked to pass through the small opening. Its walls were painted in red and there was dust and dirt everywhere. In the centre, a symmetrically square structure that resembled a makeshift fire altar was constructed with bricks stacked on top of each other. The bricks were crumbling, adding to the debris inside the room. A few pieces of decayed wooden sticks, a rusted metal bowl, a spoon and a matchbox lay scattered near the altar. He noticed that the red paint on the wall was flaky. Curious, he rubbed his fingers on the wall to feel its texture. It felt gritty and uneven, and some residue flaked off on his fingers. Bringing his fingers close to his nose and smelling them, his eyes widened as he realised that it was a mixture of vermillion and dried blood. Why would a person paint a wall with vermillion and... blood? A chill ran down his spine and the air was suddenly too thick to breathe. He made a mental note to inform Abram about it.

He shone his torch around and the beam fell on a far corner to the right where a heap of greyish brown ash lay. There was no chimney; no way to let the smoke out.

Bhoir looked back through the hole into the main basement which felt strangely silent, like a held breath. His palms were sweaty. He felt that he had already spent too much time inside this place. He wanted to leave as soon as possible, but his curiosity got the better of him. He moved forward towards the ashes, bending his head low, then gently swept them aside with the toe of his boot. He felt a solid mass beneath his foot.

Bending down and scooping away the ash with one hand, as he saw what lay beneath, Bhoir held his other hand to his gaping mouth, muffling a scream. It appeared like a circle of rat skeletons, each joined to the next by the tail. Looking closely, he observed that their tails were knotted. All around the skeletons were fragments of flesh that were torn off the rats shred by shred.

Bhoir broke into a cold sweat. He imagined the agony the rats must have been in, flailing and biting each other, desperate to free themselves. Whichever angle they had turned, their heads had collided in confusion, exacerbating their delirium. In his mind’s eye, he saw their teeth ripping and tearing at one another, and saw the sharp claws of a rat sink into the tissue of another, blood pooling beneath their feet. Their twisted skeletons proved their final struggle against one another propelled by fear and hunger.

Panting heavily, he staggered away from the pile of bones, He wanted to immediately forget what he’d just seen, but the image burned into his retina.

Suddenly, he heard a sound like a huge claw scratching the surface of the roof above him. He gasped, looking up. He thought he saw a pair of red eyes glowing in the thick darkness above.

As He scrambled to get out of the red room, he lost his footing and fell on the fire altar, burying his face in the black ash. Just as he was about to raise his head, he began to feel that the red walls had stirred awake. He didn’t understand it, and it terrified him. It felt as if he was surrounded by living, breathing beings. He could sense them move closer, as if to crush him.

Bhoir screamed silently, getting up. He needed to get out of there as fast as possible. He ran for the entrance of the room, but before he got there, he heard a crackle and the light from the torch flickered and met an abrupt end, plunging the entire basement into pitch-black darkness. He tried to get his eyes to adjust to it, but the darkness was unyielding. He couldn’t see a thing. He clenched his fists tightly and gritted his teeth in resilience against the terror that threatened to overwhelm him. The fear felt like fire burning through the veins all over his body. He struggled to get out of the room as he began to feel that not only the walls, but also the roof was moving in an attempt to swallow him. He heard a hissing noise coming from behind him and felt cold wind on his back as a powerful force attempted to draw him in.

He ran haphazardly, staggering, trying to get to the entrance of the room that had now become a trap.

Crawling over the altar, he finally crossed the punched hole in the wall and entered the basement. He panted with exhaustion. Focusing hard on his surroundings, He tried to reorient himself.

Bhoir guessed the direction to the basement door, walking towards it. Then his leg hit something heavy. He had hit his shoulder bag. With terror taking over his thoughts, he bent and fumbled through the bag with trembling hands. He took out a big hammer which he held above his head and swung it around blindly, hoping to scare away the disturbing presence in the room. As the hammer swung around, it hit a container which was perched on top of an old wardrobe. It fell, spilling its contents all over the floor at his feet. Big metal nails clattered to the concrete floor with clanking sounds that appeared like a sinister laugh of darkness around him.

Bhoir staggered backwards as his feet landed on some nails, which made him unstable. As he struggled to balance himself, he suddenly screamed in agony. The tip of a nail he had kicked had sunk into the sole of his foot. The hammer fell from his hand with a loud thud. He raised the injured foot from the ground and the nail came with it, stuck securely inside the sole of his foot. As he hopped around on one foot, several nails lying on the floor pierced through the second foot. He could feel the skin under his foot being torn to shreds.

Eventually, with tears running down his face, he fell to the floor, to the bed of nails. He immediately felt he had been soaked in a river of red-hot excruciating pain. All over his body, the nails pierced and drew blood. He writhed uneasily, which only made matters worse. With pain boiling through his body, he pushed himself to his feet and fumbled for his bag in the dark. He planned to grab it, then make his way towards the stairs and leave this godforsaken place.

His hand went directly into the bag and he felt the cold steel of his power saw. Despite his complete exhaustion and the agonising pain coursing through his body, a touch of cold steel infused life in otherwise dead hope. The power saw was the strongest tool he had in his bag. If there was anything that could truly protect him, that had to be it.

His senses now alert, he carefully listened for sounds that indicated a presence in the room. His eyes also searched for possible threats in the dark. Nothing. He lifted the power saw and held it in both hands.

Abruptly, the machine roared to life in his hands with terrific energy and noise. In fear, he must have mistakenly pushed the power button.

As he turned the purring machine clumsily in his hands, searching in the dark for the switch so he could turn it off again, the blade sliced into the back of his hand. Jolts of fresh pain exploded within him as the saw fiercely cut into the space between his thumb and his forefinger. It cut deep, severing the flesh and tendon and leaving his thumb hanging loose. Blood spurted out of the gruesome cut, squirting onto his face.

Lying on the floor panting, Bhoir tasted bile on his tongue as he raised his injured hand towards his chest. He could feel the thumb hanging by a strand of muscle. He brought his hand to the front of his face and held the bleeding, almost dismembered thumb tight, pressing it back down against his hand. The immense pain made him groan loudly. His own sticky blood was smeared all over his hands now. He heard the rhythmic vibration of the saw reverberate through the room and he kicked it, trying to get it as far away from him as possible.

The saw skittered across the floor and skid against a tilted wooden board in the corner which caused the saw to spin into the air. It landed on the floor with a smash, making two deep cuts in the concrete floor. The steel saw loosened itself from the floor and rose into the air again, of its own accord.

Bhoir watched the dim outline of a saw in horror, immediately struggling in spite of his pain to slide backwards, away from the seemingly possessed power saw. It swung itself like a frisbee and flew towards him at an angle.He tried to move away quickly but was too injured and exhausted to go far. Its steel jaws sunk into his shoulder and got stuck there.

The pain washed over him, vibrating through his entire body like a shock wave. It felt as if his muscles were being seared with a white-hot iron. An agonising scream escaped his throat, followed by guttural choking.

He stumbled forward and fell on the concrete face down. The steel saw fell away from his body, tearing along with bits of his flesh. A fiery ball of pain exploded in his head as it hit the long iron nails strewn on the floor, some upright ones piercing his skull and neck.

He lay on the floor convulsing like a dying animal while thick blood flowed from the gaping hole in his shoulder. The skin around the area hung loosely in strips.

As his eyes caught the faint image of several dangerous objects in the room rushing towards him, the image of Rajjo’s beautiful smile flashed in his mind before everything began to blur and melt away.

Bhoir’s vacuous eyes stared aimlessly into the darkness.

* * * *

When Abram and his family returned home, they were greeted by a hysterical Aarti at the front door. She had tears running down her face but seemed not to notice. As a result, almost the entire front of her shirt was wet with tears. She kept pacing and gesticulating wildly. Whenever she tried to speak, she choked on her words and reverted to sobbing.

Abram, confused and worried, rushed to her, trying to pacify her. But no matter what Abram did, she was unable to calm down. Instead, she was getting increasingly agitated. Abram could see Aarti’s strange behaviour seriously worried Vedika and scared Amira, so he motioned to Vedika to take Amira into her room.

Vedika reluctantly complied.

Abram stood in front of Aarti, grasping her shoulders; he had to deploy his strength to keep her violently shaking body steady.

“Tell me. What’s wrong?” Abram tried to make his voice sound calm and soothing.

Aarti, short of breath, blabbered a string of incomprehensible words, the syllables tumbling over one another. Her eyes widened as she spoke, and she feverishly pointed a finger towards the basement.

Vedika, having settled Amira in her room, came down the stairs with an anxious look. She reached out and gently pulled Aarti towards her, holding her close and wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Aarti… Aarti. Listen to me. Calm down. We’re here, everything will be fine.” Vedika held Aarti’s jaw gently and turned Aarti’s face to look at her, speaking as gently as possible.

Aarti swallowed, trying to regain her composure. “The basement…, ”she said, pointing again to the basement amidst sobs.

Abram rushed towards the basement.

The basement door was open. Abram peered inside. There was a wick lamp at the base of the stairs, its brightly burning flame only slightly brightening the darkness. Abram looked behind him. Thankfully, Vedika and Aarti hadn’t followed. He could hear Vedika whispering to Aarti persuasively.

Abram descended the stairs carefully, wondering why everywhere was silent. He expected Bhoir to be here working. Or had he already gone home? Abram saw nothing in the darkness. The air was heavy and stifling. Abram strained his ears to listen, expecting to hear Bhoir working silently, but heard nothing. “Bhoir?” he called out softly. No response.

A feeling of uneasiness crept up on him. He got to the base of the stairs and picked up the lantern. The yellow balmy light fell upon the objects in the room, causing frightening shadows to emerge on the wall. He held the light to the wall where the switch was attached and found that it was turned on, although there was no light.

Abram held the light from the lantern in different directions, looking for what had agitated Aarti. As he walked further into the basement, he felt his heart rate increase so he breathed in slowly through his nose, releasing the breaths through his mouth, as a way to calm himself.

It wasn’t till the light struck the corner of the right wall that he saw the sickening sight of lifeless Bhoir lying in a pool of blood on the concrete floor. Abram gasped in shock. Waves of dread traversed the length of his body and reached his fingertips. He suppressed the urge to scream, yet, he couldn’t resist groaning, pressing a palm to his mouth to shut the sound in. He felt his stomach churn as he moved towards the corpse.

The floorboards creaked under him as Abram walked forward, heightening his fear. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind of possible ways Bhoir could have died. He carefully navigated through the piles of objects and got to Bhoir. He felt as if the darkness was closing in on him. He sweated profusely; at one point the lantern had almost slipped from his hands. His heart beat violently against his chest. Looking back, he saw his enlarged shadow on the wall. It appeared as if it was stalking him, the shadow of his outstretched hand holding the lantern looking like a huge tentacle. He stood in front of Bhoir’s body, forcing himself to look at it. The light from the lantern flooded the entire area around the right wall, highlighting the corpse in pale yellow light.

A close look at Bhoir’s body revealed that the death must have been a most painful experience.

Abram gagged, feeling dizzy as he gazed at the gruesome sight in front of him. His hands trembled slightly. He didn’t understand what he was looking at. Bloodied metal nails seemed to have got stuck in Bhoir’s head. There was also a visible crack in his skull, from which brain matter leaked onto the floor. It seemed like something caused by a terrible fall. But Bhoir was physically strong, so it was unbelievable he would fall and smash his head so badly on the concrete floor. Besides, Abram noticed, there weren’t any ledges or dangerous heights in the basement to cause such a horrendous fall. From his shoulders hung thick strips of peeled-off skin, exposing the bone underneath. Abram felt vomit surge up from his stomach. His eyes fell upon the metal saw firmly lodged in the other shoulder. Pieces of flesh and tendons hung down from the blade. Abram also noticed that Bhoir’s left thumb was gone, and the spot where it had been had bled onto the floor. Looking around closely, he found the severed thumb beside the corpse.

Abram felt nauseous and confused.

He took a step back and turned towards the stairs. His eyes fell on shadows from above and then he heard the sound of hurried footsteps moving towards the stairs. At first, he thought it was Vedika and Aarti approaching to check on him, and his anxiety grew. I can’t let Vedika and Aarti come down here and see this, he thought. He racked his brain trying to think of excuses to prevent them from coming down here. Just as he opened his mouth, about to yell out an excuse, a few of the village men clad in dhoti and kurta came rushing to the entrance of the basement. The men stood near the stairs looking bewildered. Abram was baffled. Who had invited them in? The men shone their torchlight in different directions, illuminating the basement. Through the beams of light flashing around, Abram caught sight of Vedika behind the men, holding Aarti in her arms and whispering something into her ear. “Vedika,” he called out, “Who are these men?”

Vedika’s head snapped up and she looked around herself in embarrassment. Moving closer to him, she said in a low tone, “After Aarti told me about what she saw, I realised that we couldn’t handle it alone. What if it happened to you too? I was scared, so I called these men in to help us.”

“But you should’ve asked me first!” Abram said with clenched teeth, trying to ignore the men lurking around.

“I was terrified!” Vedika whispered fiercely. “I wasn’t thinking straight,” she added, apologetically. Abram sighed.

As he was about to explain the situation better to the men, one of them flashed the light of his torch deeper into the basement and the light fell on Bhoir’s corpse. The man shrieked in panic, drawing the attention of others who, seeing the body, immediately pushed into the basement. The men stood at a distance, pointing their torches so the lights roamed all over the corpse. A hushed murmur filled the room. An elderly man, probably the head of the village, chanted what seemed like holy verses. The men huddled together in a corner, maintaining a safe distance from Abram and Bhoir.

Abram was aware of the highly superstitious nature of the villagers. He knew it would be difficult to convince them that Bhoir’s unnatural death was an accident, that all the obvious extensive injuries were accidents. But he had to try.

“I don’t know how this happened,” Abram said helplessly, turning to the elderly man whom he knew to be the village sarpanch. “It’s very saddening. He came here to carry out repairs while my wife, my daughter and I were away from the house. I….I came back home to find this.” His voice broke as he gestured towards the corpse. Genuine grief shook into him for the first time that day; all he’d had the capacity to feel before was pure terror.

One of them, the head of the village, nodded, his eyes wandering wildly around the place where Bhoir lay, trying to avoid looking at the corpse. He wore a short gathered smock with tight, long sleeves and a massive turban wound on his head. He glanced at Abram. Abram could feel the hostility in his eyes.

Abram looked down. He felt the men’s eyes on him. I truly have no idea what happened to him, he thought, but didn’t bother to articulate it. He knew they wouldn’t believe him.

“Has somebody informed Mangatram?” The sarpanch asked, turning to one of the men in the group. The man nodded in the affirmative.

“Well then,” the sarpanch said, turning the way he’d come, “We must leave this place immediately and wait for Mangatram. We don’t want to be here, at this place.” he added dryly. His lips chanted prayers as he walked out of the door.

* * *

Khubala didn’t need a police station. The resolution of disputes took place through the panchayat–the village council. A small tattered cottage served as a beat chowky. The infrastructure inside the chowky consisted of a few items of broken furniture and a room that served as a temporary jail. Mangatram, the only police constable stationed in the village, spent more time at his retail shop than at the police station.

Mangatram, a man in his fifties, was short, burly and bald. Besides the shop, Mangatram also owned a small farm, two cows and a bull, all of which he rented out to a poor farmer. He had lived alone since the death of his wife a few years ago. He enjoyed an easy life. Crime investigation was a disquieting experience for him and in most cases, even those that had to do with theft, he preferred to enforce a compromise between disputants than investigate the matter further.

When Mangatram received the news of Bhoir’s death and the dubious circumstances surrounding it, he was gripped by a deep-rooted dread. Reluctantly, he left the comfort of his shop and went to Abram’s residence, sending a message to Dr Trivedi to join him at Abram’s house. He was going to need a medical examiner to examine the body. On getting there, he saw a small group of villagers clad in dhoti and kurta, standing outside the house whispering in hushed tones. They stood close together and kept a wide berth between themselves and the house. They seemed befuddled, stealing glances at the house nervously as they talked among themselves, occasionally pointing. The head of the village stood among them, chanting holy verses.

Mangatram was not surprised to find these men here. The villagers were superstitious and frowned upon unnatural deaths. It was a scandalous tale too–a young man dying mysteriously in the basement of a family that had just moved in from the city–and word of it spread fast.

Mangatram knocked on the front door and Abram let him in. After a strained exchange of pleasantries, Abram, carrying a bright lamp, ushered him to the basement where the dead body lay, untouched.

Mangatram moved towards the back of the house with Abram following closely behind him. He stopped at the entrance to the basement. Looking closely, he noticed the butt of a bidi near the basement door. He turned to Abram and asked whether he smoked. Abram replied that he did so occasionally, but he only smoked a light cigarette.

Bhoir must have smoked a bidi before entering the basement,

The sight of the sizeable pool of congealed blood mingled with human flesh on the floor made Mangatram nauseous. Abram turned his face away, covering his mouth with his palm. Bhoir’s open eyes clouded over and stared up at the ceiling, unseeing. Mangatram felt a shiver run down his spine. He turned away, putting a hand over his mouth and nose. His heart sank. He had never dealt with a crime of this magnitude before.

Mangatram wrinkled his nose as he lit a bidi. Abram felt a macabre tension between them. Sighing and removing the bidi from his lips, Mangatram said, “A death in this manner is unheard of here. Isn’t it strange that just a few days after your arrival, a poor villager dies mysteriously in your basement?” Abram opened his mouth to assert his innocence but Mangatram cut him short before he could even begin. “When did you find him?” he asked, keeping his voice as calm as possible.

“I visited the hospital earlier today with my wife and daughter. While I was away, Bhoir came to the house to carry out repairs on the basement because I had asked him to do so. And when I returned from the hospital, I found the maid in a hysterical state.” Abram studied the constable’s expression trying to read his thoughts. He continued, “Aarti was actually the first to discover Bhoir’s body.” Abram pointed towards her. She stood in a corner, her face shocked. “She had entered the basement to check on Bhoir.”

Mangatram glanced towards Aarti who was now rocking back and forth in a state of shock. Abram tried, but could not read the constable’s impassive expression. Mangatram stood, absorbing the information in silence. In his mind though, it appeared, he took all Abram had said with a grain of salt.

Mangatram looked Abram straight in the eye and said, “You mean to tell me, Mr Abram, that you don’t know anything about a dead body found in your basement?”

Abram held the constable’s gaze. “My family and I were not in the house when the incident occurred.”

“I know that. You said as much. But there are many questions to be answered, and people are getting nervous,” he said, “And nervousness is not a good sign in this village. It is the marker of dread.”

“I’ve already told you the truth. You are following the wrong trail.”

“Then what is the right trail, Mr Abram?”

Abram remained silent.

“I’m not accusing you. I’m simply trying to find the missing pieces in the puzzle.” Mangatram circled the dead body. “Tell me again, what was Bhoir doing at your house?” Mangatram’s eyes stared intently at Abram, searching for a clue in his body language.

“He came over to look at the basement. It is in a terrible state.”

Mangatram stared at Abram for a long moment.

Mangatram walked into the chilly basement. The smell of death greeted him, hanging in the air as he went further into the basement. The dust in the air made him cough. He glanced at the dishevelled basement, noting the way it appeared to be falling apart. With measured steps, he walked to the spot Abram had led him to earlier, the spot where Bhoir’s body lay.

Despite his overwhelming revulsion, he knelt to examine the body. He observed the extensive wounds on the head and chest area and a deep laceration in the left leg. On closer inspection, he found that the neck had been twisted and had broken. The limbs had stiffened, and the head flopped down when he lifted it, showing that the cervical spine had snapped.There was a deep laceration in the scalp exposing the cracked skull from which bits of brain matter oozed out. The upper part of the left ear was missing and there was severe damage of the skin and cartilage in that area.

Mangatram narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but the body appeared to be lying at an awkward angle. He collected the torch that Abram held and flashed the beam of light on the walls. He immediately cringed with disgust. Blood was splattered everywhere and a piece of loose flesh had stuck to the blood on the wall.

He took a deep breath in an attempt to steady his breathing as he strived to maintain calmness. Suddenly, he heard footsteps. He turned and saw Dr. Trivedi slowly descending the stairs, almost toppling down at the last step.

“Dr. Trivedi,” Mangatram said, “I’ve been waiting for you. Where have you been? Come quickly and check this out.”

“I went to the forest to collect some herbs. What happened here? Oh my god!”

Mangatram gestured at the body, “Look at him. I don’t know what to make of it. An accident or something more sinister?”

Abram just stood there, watching.

The doctor sighed and knelt down, taking out his equipment. He punctured the liver and inserted the thermometer. “The temperature is 93 degrees Fahrenheit.” He paused, calculating in his head. “From the rigour mortis, we can presume that he died approximately three and a half hours ago.” He looked at Mangatram, “Do you want me to examine the body further at the hospital?”

“There’s no need for that. You know the people here are dangerously ignorant and superstitious; an act of postmortem is like dissecting God’s will.” Mangatram paused then shook his head slowly as he stared thoughtfully at the body. “What a terrible way to die. From merely looking at the body, it can be safely assumed that he did not die silently.”

Abram cut in, “According to Aarti, he did. She hadn’t heard a thing.”

“That’s just impossible,” Mangatram looked at him doubtfully. “The dead body says otherwise. And I’m sure all these injuries didn’t happen postmortem.” He paused. “Or what do you think, doctor?” Mangatram asked, looking inquiringly at the doctor who was busy putting the loose skin in place. “Is it possible that he didn’t scream for help?”

The doctor’s brows furrowed in deep thought. “Actually, he most likely died silently.” He pointed the forceps in his hand towards the corpse’s face. “Look here. The blade cut into the skin and muscles of the face, including the zygomaticus major and minor muscles, the nasalis muscles and the levatorlabiisuperioris muscles. This would have prevented half of the face from moving properly, making it difficult for him to open his right nostril and mouth and subsequently preventing him from calling for help.”

Mangatram shook his head again. “That’s horrifying!”

The doctor looked at him quizzically.

“Your explanation, and the death of-course. Accidents can be deceptive. Isn’t it?” Mangatram’s eyes appeared thoughtful.

“It seems like an accident. Judging from the identical injuries on the back, it was the blade that appears to have pinned him to the floor-”

“Like a butterfly pinned to a board?” Mangatram stared at the body with interest, attempting to process the information, to comprehend how it had happened.

The doctor stared at him with narrowed eyes for a while before he nodded, saying nothing.

“But he could have seen that coming, right?” Abram asked. “He could have avoided it.”

“Yes, but don’t forget that it was dark in the basement. Besides, look right here,” the doctor pointed towards the right orbicularis oculi muscle. “See this? The damage caused an ocular rupture, a vitreous haemorrhage resulting in blindness. The pain must have been unbearable.”

“How could the blade have got stuck so deep? How did that happen?” Mangatram enquired.

The doctor sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know. It seems strange.”

“Was the death instant?”

“Probably.” The doctor said pointing towards a bloodied slab of concrete lying next to the corpse, leaning on his arm. “This might have killed him. It looks like it fell on his chest with force that crushed him completely. You can see the fractured ribs which could have caused a severe instability in the rib cage. The broken ribs could also have drilled into his internal organs.”

“I will have hard time convincing the locals.” Mangatram sighed. He thanked the doctor and motioned for them to leave the basement.

Mangatram decided not to attempt to dig deeper into Bhoir’s case. Even if he suspected something, he preferred to close the case as soon as possible. Later, on the same day, he surveyed the crime scene again in the presence of the panchayat, then documented the details and filed a report ruling Bhoir’s death an accident. He handed Bhoir’s body over to the villagers and sealed the basement, inscribing on the door with a white chalk: “Crime scene. Do not enter.”

However, notwithstanding the lack of a crime investigation, he instructed Abram not to leave the village without his permission.

* * *

Book II

He is not born nor does He ever die; after having been, He again ceases not to be. Unborn, eternal, changeless and ancient, He is not killed when the body is killed.

Bhoir’s death had shaken Amira severely. Though she hadn’t seen the body, from hushed whispers she’d heard a few words–mangled, bloody, attacked, grisly, and mutilated – and her mind was savvy enough to fathom the terrible implications. That night she heard a strange noise in her room, and was unable to sleep. She lay under the thick wool fabric of her quilt and quivered in the darkness. She felt sticky and confused. As soon as she closed her eyes she saw a sea of blood. She grew scared of being alone in the dark. She could always feel the presence of something or someone in her room. Sometimes she sensed it moving around, other times she felt that it hung over her, a few inches from her face. She wanted to tell her parents how scared she was, but she pretended to be brave as she pulled the quilt over her head and lay there shaking, praying for the dawn to appear. The terror she felt was so unnerving that at times, she hoped that she would black out, simply to escape the bone-chilling trepidation. Her mind constantly reflected on the incident, her brain conjuring various gruesome images of Bhoir’s body which proceeded to haunt her dreams.

The dead light bulb in her room occasionally flickered, making a crackling sound which startled Amira. The faint light from the windows cast uncanny shadows on the walls. The shadows alternated between looking doleful and horrifying, but in the shadows, she also saw twig-like fingers reaching for her. She trembled under the covers, the memories of the nightmare she’d had the previous day fresh in her mind. She tried her best to sleep, and while she managed to get a few minutes of rest, she woke up with her head throbbing. Rather than try to force herself to sleep again, she just lay there listening to the rise and fall of her own breathing. After a few minutes, she heard a soft tapping noise at the door. She turned her head towards it, clutching her quilt tighter.

“Dad?” she whispered.

No answer.

“Mummy?” Her voice shook.

All she heard was the whistling of the wind outside her window.

She took a deep breath to calm her breathing, but the sound was more intimidating than usual. The house appeared sinister in the dark. After a few minutes, she sensed a figure circling her bed in the darkness, and leaning over her. Her heart beat quickened. It was too dark to see anything. She pulled the quilt over her head and waited with bated breath. Straining her ears, she listened intently. She couldn’t hear anything but could still sense the figure above her. Tears of fright welled up in her eyes and she pursed her lips tightly to stifle the moan rising in her throat. She was disconcerted. When she thought that the figure had disappeared, she lowered the quilt and looked around. The room became darker and there was no longer any light from the windows. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the pitch-black darkness. She felt as if her mind was a swirling ball of anxiety and madness.

The wind outside howled ferociously. It tossed some objects into their yard and rattled her window. She took another deep breath to calm herself, her palm flat on the bed. When she thought she had finally gathered enough strength to sit up, she tried to push herself up but immediately slumped back to the bed, exhausted, as if some external force had sucked all the energy out of her. She lay there panting, her arms trembling from exertion.

In the sable darkness, her room appeared more baleful. She curled up in her bed. She felt as if unimaginable evil lurked in every corner of the room. Underneath the sighs of the wind, she heard voices softly whispering. However, whenever she tried to listen, to decipher what they were saying, the voices disappeared. Her mind felt like a dark pit, with anxiety and uncertainty swirling rapidly within it. She knew all the things she saw and heard were most likely her imagination, but was still unable to shut them out. She sighed and squeezed her eyes tightly in the darkness and tears welled up. I just want to be normal again.

The bed began to shift, to move, to melt. She rolled over, clutching her soft toy tighter. It was as if she and the bed were sinking into the ground.

Amira began desperately to recite the religious verses she had learned in her childhood, although they were of no help now. Maybe she was doing something wrong. Maybe I’m not saying the words right. She flailed her arms around, trying to find the bed frame so she could use it to give herself a boost and get out of bed, but her hands couldn’t find anything in the suffocating darkness. The inaudible whispers marauded her eardrums, sending shivers down her spine.

Then all of a sudden, she was immobile. Eyes widening, Amira tried to cry out, to call out to her parents, but her throat muscles wouldn’t respond. Tears streaming down her face, she whispered in her mind, It’s just your imagination, Amira. Just your imagination. But her heart kept hammering against her chest furiously, making her stomach churn.

Suddenly, abruptly, the bed sprang back into solid form and Amira found that she could move her body again. Her ears caught a faint scratching sound coming from the window. She gasped and quickly scrambled out of bed. Lifting the mattress up, she climbed under and lay there. It was hard to breathe through the mattress and her limbs grew numb, but to her it was the only hiding place. She kept her eyes glued to the window where she’d heard the sound, expecting to catch a glimpse of what made it. She thought that she saw a small shadow run past the window. She narrowed her eyes, grasping the mattress above her. Her eyes darted from one window to another.

Something still lingered in her room. She could just tell. She felt as if the moment she closed her eyes, the presence would pounce on her.

Out of nowhere, a clap of thunder rang out, echoing through the room. Amira felt the loud roar resonate in her chest. The strong wind she had heard earlier must have been indicative of this storm. Rain poured down in earnest. A lightning bolt struck a few inches next to the window where she had seen the shadow. She jerked her head towards it and saw letters scrawled on the glass in blood.

“Kill them.

Let them die.”

Amira blinked once and they were gone, washed away by the rain. But they were burned into her retinas and she couldn’t unsee them.

* * *

Abram tapped his razor on the side of the sink to clear away the accumulated hair, then lifted it back to his chin for another stroke. Today, he planned to visit the village panchayat office and complete the formalities for transfer.

He tapped the razor against the sink again, listening to Vedika’s steps as she walked into Amira’s room to wake her. The thin walls in this house ensured that no sounds could be concealed. Not like our old place where the walls were so thick, Abram thought.

“Come on, Amira. It’s time to get up, honey,” he heard Vedika say.

Amira whispered something too inaudible.

“Now honey, I’m sorry you didn’t sleep well, but it’s time for breakfast. We have to visit the market too. I thought you were excited about seeing the small fair in the market.”

“Ow,” Amira wailed. “My head hurts. Must I go with you? Can’t you go alone and let me catch some fucking sleep?”

Abram couldn’t believe his ears. What in the world? Where did Amira learn to use the F-word? He was shocked. He and Vedika made it a point to never use swear words around her.

“Amira! That’s no way to speak!” Vedika remonstrated. Abram smirked. Vedika had fully gone into stern mother mode, using a tone of voice that clearly brooked no disrespect. “Where did you learn that?”

There was complete silence.

“Amira, answer me! What’s got into you? We don’t condone such language in this house and you know that. Now get up, get dressed, and meet me downstairs.”

Vedika stormed out of the room, the door bang shut after her.

Abram quickly finished shaving, then got dressed and hurriedly went downstairs.

As he walked into the kitchen, he immediately saw his wife’s irritated expression as she stood waiting by the table.

“I heard what she said. Where did she learn that?”

Vedika threw her hands up, exasperated. “And she still hasn’t come down for breakfast.” She carefully set bowls of cereal and a jug of milk on the table. “She’s behaving so unlike herself. It’s disturbing and really annoying.” Vedika looked up at the stairs.

Abram glanced at his watch. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get her.”

He took the stairs two at a time. In front of her closed door, he stopped abruptly. The sound of her voice drifted across to him. He listened carefully, but couldn’t make out the words. The faint rotten odour that hung around the house for the past few weeks invaded his nostrils.

He moved closer and gently placed his ear against the door.

“Did I say anything wrong?” He heard Amira say softly. “She looked so angry.”

Was she talking to her imaginary friend?

Amira’s voice became somewhat louder, and carrying easily across the door as she said, “No, no. I don’t feel well. Can’t you tell I’m feeling grouchy? Go away.” Her voice broke on the last sentence.

This worried Abram. He immediately knocked on the door, then opened it. The strange smell felt even stronger inside the room. He put his palm in front of his mouth to hide his gagging. “Hey baby,” he said, closing the door behind him. “Everything fine?”

Amira was sitting on her bed wearing her favourite Hello Kitty pyjamas with a comb and a plastic doll in hands. She held the doll tenderly in her arms and ran the comb through its hair. Hearing his voice, she turned back to look at him with a frown and a cold look in her eyes.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked, moving to the side of her bed. She shook her head slightly and said nothing. “Move over,” he said. She did and he sat down next to her, against the headboard.

“I’m really tired, Daddy. Please, don’t make me go with mummy today. I don’t want to go, I don’t feel good,” she pouted, looking up at her father.

Abram studied her face for a moment. “Is it just because you don’t feel well, or is there something else? I heard what you said to Mummy. You know we don’t use such language in this house.” He frowned at her, trying to look stern. He had never been able to pull it off as flawlessly as Vedika did.

“I really don’t feel well, I’m not lying,” she murmured.

Abram took her hand in his to try and check her temperature. Well, she does feel slightly warmer than usual. “What hurts?” he asked.

Amira shrugged and removed her hand from his grasp, continuing to brush her doll’s hair, avoiding his eyes. He looked at her closely again. “Amira, you know you should tell Mummy and me if, something is troubling you, right? You can tell us anything.”

Amira stopped combing her doll’s hair for a moment and kept quiet. “It’s nothing,” she finally whispered, looking down at her hands.

Abram sighed. “All right, well you know the rule. No temperature, no excuses.” He got to his feet. “I’ll get the thermometer and then we’ll let it judge,” he said, smiling.

He went to the bathroom, grabbed the ear thermometer, then came back into the room and used it to check her temperature. She was a degree above the normal temperature range. “All right sweetie, you have a slight temperature. Are there any other symptoms? Clammy hands? Coughing? Is your nose clogged?”

Amira shook her head.

He tried to make her laugh, tugging on her nose and pretending to steal it; a game he played a lot with her when she was about three.

She just looked at him coldly again. “I feel a bit itchy.”

He sighed again. “Okay then. I’ll talk to Mummy and we’ll see if she agrees that you should stay at home. Come sweetie, let’s have breakfast,” he said.

“I am not hungry.” She pushed him away.

As he walked downstairs he could hear Vedika banging pots and pans around in the kitchen, making lunch. From the way she moved things around with more force than necessary, he could tell she was still angry.

Vedika heard him approaching and looked up, frowning with her eyes narrowed to slits. “Where’s Amira?”

“Her temperature is slightly high. One degree above the average range. When is Aarti coming over?”

“Abram.” She looked at him, incredulous. “Just because her temperature is higher by one degree, are you going to pardon her behaviour?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand you sometimes. You’re too soft on her.”

“Hey,” Abram said holding up his hands, “Rules are rules. How often have you told me how much you hate it when people ignore their children’s vital signs?” He walked over and put his arm around her. “Come on darling, be empathetic. She must really be unwell.”

Vedika closed her eyes and sighed. “There’s just so much to do.” Glancing at her watch, she said, “I don’t even know if Aarti will be able to come here in time today.”

Abram squeezed her waist gently. “Sweetheart, I am here if you need help.”

She frowned, reaching up to kiss him. “Just don’t spoil her when she behaves badly. You’ll reinforce unacceptable behaviour.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, laughing. She rolled her eyes. “But you know the ear thermometer doesn’t lie. She could use some rest,” he added.

She shrugged. “I suppose so.”

He glanced at his watch again. “You know what, honey? You should calm down a bit. Give me an hour, and then we can go to the market together.”

“Don’t take too long.” Vedika sighed.

* * *

Abram shuffled through his papers distractedly. His mind was busy with thoughts of Amira. He couldn’t fathom the reason for Amira’s sudden erratic behaviour. Most of the time she was fatigued and took long naps. At first he thought she was feeling lazy just like any girl of her age on vacation. She became quiet, and preferred to spend her time alone. The previous night Vedika found her sitting up in bed, confused. Even during the few stretches of time when she was awake, she looked chronically exhausted, struggling to remain in the present moment. The content of her dreams also bothered him. It wasn’t that her dreams sounded frightening, they always had an outré quality to them. He didn’t understand how a young girl’s mind could conjure such terrifying images. One thing was for sure, though: the dreams bothered him far more than they did her.

As he drew his attention back to the paper, he heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching. A few seconds later, he glanced behind him and saw Amira sleepily trudge towards him. She walked over to sit next to him on the worn out couch. As always, she narrated the dream she just had. This particular one was replete with wildfires, thick smoke, scary voices and running– lots of running.

“And then I heard sinister laughter,” Amira said, and tried to look menacing. As with every story she told him, she acted the story out with her face and arms as much as she could. “I turned to run, but right in front of me, bright orange flames ascended from the ground,” she gradually raised her slim arms in the air as if she was lifting something invisible.

Abram nodded slowly.

Satisfied that he was listening, she continued, “The fire spewed thick black grey smoke trying to suffocate me. I coughed so hard. I was out of breath. It felt like someone had punched me in the stomach, but that wasn’t even the worst of it. As soon as I opened my mouth, my tongue dropped out and fell to the ground. It flopped from side to side beneath my feet. I tried to scream, but I had no voice. I was terrified. I ran as fast as I could. As I ran, I tripped and fell over face-down.”

“Hmmmm. Nice story,“Abram said, smiling absently. He had only heard snatches of the dream. He’d been engrossed in his own thoughts, his persistent worries. “And then you defeated whoever it was that bothered you, huh?”

“No Dad,” Amira’s eyebrows creased with hurt. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Hmm?” Abram kissed her cheek. “Oh. Of course, I was listening to you. You were telling me about how you escaped the wildfires in your dream, right? What happened next?”

Amira took one look at his face and said glumly, “Just forget it. I’ll tell Mummy instead.” She crossed her arms sulkily.

Abram reached for her. Placing her on his lap and stroking her hair gently, he said, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Hey you know Daddy always cares about you.”

“I know,” Amira grumbled. “But you’ve been acting very differently lately.”

“Different? How?”

“You don’t listen to my stories, you don’t play with me, and you’re always busy!” Amira said, teary-eyed.

“Oh honey,” Abram hugged her close. “I’m so sorry. Hey… we can play right now. Do you want to play hide and seek?” Abram asked, tickling her all over.

Amira wriggled in his arms, laughing. “Yes!”

Just then, Vedika’s voice rang out from the kitchen.

* * *

After lunch Vedika stayed back in the kitchen, washing the dishes with her hands. As she methodically scrubbed and rinsed, her mind wandered. She thought about Amira’s fluctuating health, about whether it was really serious enough to warrant a visit to the city hospital. Maybe she was the one overthinking things and blowing them out of proportion. Maybe it was truly just anxiety and stress.

But why do I find that so hard to believe? She wondered. Why do I have this deep unshakeable gut feeling that something is terribly wrong? She shook her head, sighing. May be she was thinking like this because she was too highly-strung as well. Perhaps the stress was getting to her too, muddling her thoughts. She dried the dishes and arranged them. But what if Abram were more–

“Mummy!” Amira’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“What is it?” She called back. She waited and listened, but heard no response.

“Hold on a second. I’m coming.” She continued washing the remaining dishes, thinking that when she was done, she would attend to Amira. Amira probably needed help with a game she was playing.

“Mummy! Come quick!” Amira’s voice rang out again, sounding more urgent this time.

Vedika’s brow furrowed and her hands froze in the water. Her heart hammered in her chest. “What is it, honey?”

Still no response. Vedika was beginning to panic. Then she remembered that Amira had said after lunch earlier, that she wanted to use the bathroom. Vedika heaved a sigh. She probably locked herself in the bathroom again. Amira still hadn’t figured out how the lock in the bathrooms of this house worked, because they were so different from the ones they had in their house in the city. Well, she would just have to wait a while longer. Vedika washed the rest of the dishes as fast as she could.

While she was drying her hands and arranging the utensils, Vedika heard a hasty rhythmic pit-a-pat coming from outside the closed kitchen door. She froze, listening. The sound was too light to be Abram’s footsteps. Was Amira out of the bathroom? The utensils clattered to the floor as she dropped them distractedly and walked briskly to the kitchen door, pushing it open and looking down the hall. The thumping of her heartbeat echoed in her ears. The passage was empty.

The sound of footsteps suddenly disappeared. Vedika strained her ears to listen for Amira’s voice but heard nothing for a while. Then, out of nowhere, she heard an eerie cackling which made her freeze, wide-eyed. She swivelled from left to right but still, found nothing.

Vedika huffed in annoyance and slight concern. “Amira, what are you up to?”

She called out, thinking Amira was playing some sort of ridiculous game with her. Just as she was about to leave to check on Amira in her room, she saw Abram and Amira approaching.

Vedika frowned at Amira, “What are you upto? I heard you call out. What was that about?”

Amira wore a confused look.

“Hey, what’s all this about?” Abram was visibly concerned.

Vedika’s brow furrowed. “I heard Amira calling me a few seconds ago.” She looked down the passage again, her frown deepening. “She was running helter-skelter. I heard her footsteps. And before that, I heard her call me and tell me to come quickly–”

A huge smash coming from behind them in the kitchen interrupted Vedika. A glass cup she had, in her haste, balanced precariously on the ledge of the kitchen counter had fallen to the floor. Startled, she turned back abruptly. She immediately gasped. Splattered all over one wall was a red liquid that looked like blood.

Vedika rushed into the kitchen, Abram following closely behind her. Her mouth fell open as she moved closer to the stained wall. “How… What…” She found it hard to form a coherent sentence, so she just stood there, pointing a shaky arm at the wall and looking fearfully at Abram.

“Hey, calm down,” Abram said, trying to soothe her. He walked up to her and put his arm around her waist, pulling her close. At the same time, he looked closely at the wall, scrutinising the blood-like stains.

Amira walked into the kitchen squeezing herself between her parents. “Amira!” Vedika held her by the shoulders. “You frightened me! Why did you do that?”

Amira looked up at her mother, confusion etched on her face. “Do what?” She yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “I was playing with dad.”

“You were with dad?”

“Yes. I was telling him about the dream I saw.”

Vedika’s eyes darted from Amira to Abram, befuddlement and alarm written all over her face.

“What’s that on the wall?” Amira pointed at the wall in front of her.

Vedika swallowed hard and ignored her. Abram extricated himself from the trio and slowly moved closer to the stained wall, still very intrigued by it. He crouched down by the wall and reached out a finger to touch the congealing liquid on the floor. Tentatively, he brought the finger to his nose and smelled it.

He turned to Vedika and Amira with a smile on his lips. Amira clutched her mother’s dress with one hand, running her eye with the other. Vedika looked back at Abram apprehensively. “It’s just sauce, darling.”

“Sauce?” Vedika replied, with a peculiar look on her face.

They ran out of sauce the previous day.

Abram’s eyes fell on her reflection in the kitchen mirror and though he tried to hold it in, he couldn’t help laughing out loud. Hearing her father’s laughter, Amira looked up and saw her mother’s face. She laughed too, much to her mother’s annoyance.

Vedika turned towards them with an exasperated look on her face. This made them laugh more. Vedika tried to keep a straight face, but Abram nudged her playfully and her frown melted away. She smiled, shaking her head at both of them. Inwardly though, the feeling that something was seriously amiss refused to leave her.

* * *

Abram drowned in the scorching sun. The gloom of the house slowly worked its way out of his body when he was outside in the sun. Dry yellow and red leaves crunched under his sneakers as he trudged home. He accidentally stepped into a puddle on the street and felt the shoe on his left leg soak up some of the muddy water. “Oh hell,” Abram muttered under his breath.

The visit to the panchayat office was a disappointment. He was annoyed by the people’s chronic lethargy. It seemed as if no one cared about anything except themselves. He couldn’t understand how anyone could be so content with such a monotonous existence, not even bothering to toe the boundaries of their insipid lives.

As he walked along, Abram could feel the piercing stares of the people each time he passed. The stares really bothered him when they had first moved in, but now, he had got used to their curiosity. Despite his conscious efforts to stay out of their way and show them he didn’t mean to infringe on their community, the villagers were still hostile towards him. They gossiped about him behind his back when they thought he couldn’t hear them. He huffed in annoyance as he picked up his pace.

Tugging on his bags of vegetables, Abram saw a few young girls playing in the street and was reminded of his own daughter. His heart ached. Lately, Amira began to show disturbing behaviour patterns that seemed to be rooted in defiance. She was becoming increasingly stubborn, which worried Abram because just a few weeks before, she had been the picture of a charming, congenial, obedient little girl. He knew that children change over time, but the change was too drastic and it worried him. He sighed, clutching the bags tighter.

To take his mind off her, he looked around again. The village was overly traditional. No tarred roads, practically no infrastructure, orthodox medicine –it was almost as if the village deliberately rebelled against progressive thoughts. Why would a village insist so firmly on being underdeveloped? He found it hard to grasp.

Finally, he got home. Abram forced a smile, trying to shake off the unease he suddenly felt at the prospect of re-entering his home. Within the short time span from when he had moved in and now, a lot had happened inside that house. He took a deep breath and approached his house. As he got closer, he spotted an anxious Aarti standing outside the compound gate, looking around frantically.

“What’s wrong?”

Aarti looked shaken. She stammered, trying to explain to Abram that Amira had a high temperature.

Abram rushed through the compound gate and through the front door. His heart pounded so fast he could hear the blood pumping in his ears.

“Amira? Vedika?” He called out.

“In the bathroom, Abram, hurry!” Vedika called out in response. He quickly ran up the stairs, following her voice. He found a very worried-looking Vedika kneeling next to the bath. Amira lay in the water, naked with her entire body flushed, almost the colour of beetroot.

Abram reached out to touch her, gasping when his hand made contact with Amira’s skin.

Vedika was sweating and looked dishevelled. “Thank God you’re here. I’ve been trying to cool her down. The fever is not breaking. I’m so worried…” Her voice trailed off as she choked back tears.

“Amira? Baby?”

Amira’s eyes opened but Abram could tell she didn’t really see him. She looked as if she had been drugged or put into a trance. Her eyes were blank and her black hair looked darker, slicked down on her head. She breathed in shallow breaths, her chest barely rising. Abram was alarmed. He fussed over her, not knowing what to do. “Why is Aarti outside?” He reached forward to cup some cool water in his hands and run it across Amira’s face.

“She said something about getting a doctor.”

For a few seconds they were quiet, focusing on trying to cool their daughter down in the dark bathroom. Then Abram spoke again.

“Did you feed her anything before this happened? Maybe she inhaled too much dust or fell down or something. Do you have any idea what could have caused this?”

“I don’t know,” Vedika said, exasperated. “I’ve never seen Amira get so sick, so fast. It was so sudden that at first I thought she was faking it. Then she began shaking and her temperature rose rapidly.”

Abram nodded slowly. “I remember her temperature was slightly high when I left, but it wasn’t–”

Amira cut Abram off, suddenly screaming and thrashing around in the water, splashing water on Vedika and Abram.

“Amira! I’m here. Wake up,” Abram said, holding her hands to stop her from hurting herself. He turned to Vedika. “Let’s get her dressed. We have to get her to the hospital right now,” he said, trying to listen for the doctor’s footsteps over his daughter’s screams to see if he was already in the compound.

Vedika hurriedly left the bathroom.

“No! Nooo!”Amira screamed, violently waving her clenched fists in the air as if fighting something not visible to anyone else but her. Her face awakened, but rather than an expression of pain, it carried one of terror.

Abram struggled to restrain her. Amira’s horrified shrieks elicited a deep visceral reaction in Abram. He felt it resonate deep in his core. He wanted to do something, anything, but he stood there helpless, waiting for Vedika to bring the clothes.

Vedika came in moments later with a towel and handed it to him. With it, he reached to pick her up. As he wrapped her in the towel he noticed the strange colour of the bathwater. It was pink. Confused, he searched for what could be tinting the water but didn’t find anything. Why is the water pink? He thought, confounded. The towel turned pink in his hands too. As he was about to lift her out of the water, he saw a bead of blood form on her chest, then be washed away. His mouth fell open.

“Oh my god, no,” he whispered.

“What is it?” Vedika asked, peering around his body to look at Amira.

Without bothering to answer, with the towel, Abram gently wiped the beads of blood forming on Amira’s forehead. Looking down at her small frame, he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. Being unable to do anything to make her feel better frustrated him. He swallowed hard, rocking her gently in his arms.

He held Amira close to his chest, his heartbeat skyrocketing. Her skin was so searing hot, it appeared as if the warm afternoon air around her was steaming up.

Amira shouted again, though this time it sounded as if she was trying to say something, like she was yelling something at an invisible being in front of her. He couldn’t make out the words but the emotions behind them were crystal clear. He wished he could wrestle whatever it was that terrified her. He rocked her faster, trying to pacify her, but she kept screaming. Her harrowing shrieks bounced off the tiled walls and filled the bathroom, unsettling him. Her voice was rough and choked, distorted by her delirium.

Vedika rushed in with some clothes.

Abram grabbed some clothes from her, trying as much as he could not to show his fear. Tears streamed down Vedika’s face as she quickly dressed her. Abram pushed past her and quickly dressed Amira. Finally, Abram couldn’t take it anymore. Though he didn’t know what to do, he knew he couldn’t just stand there watching. Picking her up he headed for the door. To his dejection, he saw that more drops of blood had appeared on her skin. He swore under his breath and rushed towards the door.

“We can’t wait for help,” he yelled out to Vedika. “I’m taking her to the hospital now.”

“Wait for me!” Vedika ran towards the cupboard. “I just saw that the bathwater is pink. Why is it pink?!”

Aarti rushed in before he got there.

“We are taking her to the hospital right now,” Abram declared. Aarti’s eyes fell on Amira and widened when she saw her shivering, covered in a slightly bloody towel. She nodded feverishly and watched them ride in the car.

Throughout the ride, Amira screamed and thrashed around, trying to escape her mother’s grip. Repeatedly, she reached up, trying to scratch her.

Amira’s behaviour resembled that of a wild beast. She had a few moments of calm, but it never lasted. Just as they got close to the hospital, she stopped fighting and broke down in tears, the sobs racking her entire body. As soon as the car screeched to a halt at the hospital entrance, Abram ran out, carrying his daughter in through the doors, shouting for help.

Dr. Trivedi came out of his office quickly, carrying the weeping Amira into his arms. He took her into the examination room, disappearing behind the curtains.

Abram tried to remain calm and sat beside Vedika. After a while, he nervously bounced his legs against one another, looking around the room. It was bare with no furniture except the one they sat on and another single chair opposite them, which he presumed was the doctor’s chair. It also had no ornamentation whatsoever. The air was stuffy and had a distinct medical odour. He hated hospitals; to him they were homes to pain and were the biggest harbingers of death. He shifted in his chair. Unable to sit any longer, he paced back and forth in the small examination room, stealing glances at the curtain. He was bone-tired, but his adrenaline levels were high. Soon though, it began to wear off and his fatigue caught up with him.

“Abram,” Vedika whispered, “Sit down. You’re making me more nervous with all that pacing.” She wrung her hands in her lap.

Abram sat gently on the edge of the chair. He had to place his hands on his knees to keep them from resuming the bouncing movement he had been doing, worried that it would bother Vedika. His eyes latched on to the dusty wall clock. The more he looked at it, the more he felt that time was slowing down.

What is happening to her? I’ve never seen a child sweat blood before. And that scorching temperature. Oh God!.His jumbled thoughts were made worse by the delay. He bit his thumbnail, feeling there was a compressed string inside him. He kept shifting in his seat. His eyes moved away from the clock and stayed trained on the closed curtains.

Vedika put a hand on his knee and he looked at her. Her eyes were too alert, belying her angst, and her lips were drawn into a thin line. She gripped his knee tightly, then turned to him, taking a huge breath as if she was about to say something, but her trembling lips remained quiet. He reached out to gently hold her cold, clammy hands. “She’ll be fine,” he said in his most sincere voice.

Vedika squeezed his hand tightly as if she tried to draw strength from him. Then, in a rush, she said, “I’m just so terrified, Abram. Nothing makes sense. Everything seems like a bad dream. I mean… blood? Amira rarely gets sick, and now this? I’m so scared.” She buried her head in Abram’s chest.

Abram pulled her into a one-armed hug, planting kisses on the parting in her hair. He heard in the strain in her voice how difficult it was for her to say those words. Seeing her in such pain made Abram’s heart clench tight, like it wanted to break out from his ribcage.

“Look, as far as we know, she could be getting better as we speak. We can’t hear any screams; maybe she’s calmed down. We shouldn’t get worked up, thinking these thoughts. Let’s just trust that she is in the best hands possible,” Abram said.

“What’s taking him so long?” Vedika’s fists were clenched–she was getting restless too.

Abram wrapped his arms around her, stretching her palms out with his fingers and stroking her hair. At that moment, the doctor emerged from behind the curtains, holding Amira’s hand.

“Dad?”Amira said in a shaky whisper. She appeared normal. Abram hugged her immediately. “Baby! How are you feeling now?” He felt her forehead. Her temperature was still high, though much better now. Amira looked lost, staring blankly at her parents.

Vedika reached for her. “Come here love, everything will be fine.”

Abram kissed her on the forehead before handing her to her mother. Facing the doctor, he asked, “What is wrong with her?” He tried to keep his voice steady.

“Oh no, Nothing wrong with her. As you can tell, she has a slightly high temperature, but her vital signs are normal. The symptoms could be as a result of severe stress. If you don’t mind, I would like to ask you some questions.”

The doctor sat opposite them. “I suppose she just needs a whiff of fresh air. She is perfectly fine.”

“Why was she sweating blood?” Vedika asked in a panicked voice.

“She wasn’t sweating blood. A few centuries ago, because of this condition, people were either crowned as saints or labelled as witches and hunted down. You will be surprised to know that people sweat blue, green or even black fluids. This happens because of malfunction in cells. “

Abram motioned Vedika to wait outside with Amira. Vedika looked from the doctor to her husband. “All right,” she said. The doctor looked at Amira. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ears with the smile still on his face, he said, “You’ll be perfectly fine, sweetheart. Go with Mummy. Daddy will be with you soon.”

Vedika was reluctant at first, but she relented, taking Amira with her. As soon as Vedika and Amira were out of earshot, Abram turned to the doctor. “What is it, doctor?” he asked apprehensively.

“I am truly sorry for the tragic incident that occurred in your house.” The doctor pulled out his notepad. “Has she been showing other symptoms?”

Abram stared at him.

“Oh, sorry. Look children become cranky, um..it’s like you instinctively know the difference between a child throwing temper tantrums and one who is clueless about what’s bothering her and how to deal with it.”

“Her behaviour has changed completely. I don’t know if that’s part of what you mean.”

“Of course it is, Mr. Abram. Behavioural changes are normal. In what ways has her behaviour changed?”

Abram told him, narrating his daughter’s recent belligerent attitude.

“She is also always tired. She sleeps every chance she gets. And she has these really strange dreams.”

The doctor nodded slowly, scribbling a few things in his notepad.

“There was this time… she woke up screaming her lungs out.” Abram’s voice stuck in his throat, “This is all very strange, doctor. She has never before been this prone to hysteria. In fact, she has always been a rather sweet, quiet child.”

The doctor frowned. “When did you first detect a high temperature?”

Abram narrowed his eyes at the doctor. He felt the doctor was treating his daughter’s illness like a puzzle he couldn’t figure out. And he seemed to be enjoying looking for the pieces and putting them together. From the doctor’s frowning expression, he could tell he was holding things back from him and not telling him the entire truth. But it was just a gut feeling; he couldn’t defend it, and so he kept quiet.

“She’s had a few fevers in the past week. She even had a slightly high temperature this morning. But this afternoon’s fever has been the highest in temperature so far,” Abram replied.

“Has she ever fainted before?”

“No.”

“Has she ever had panic attacks that made her lose touch with her surroundings?”

“No, not that I can remember. Why are you asking all these questions?” Abram’s brow furrowed.

“It’s just a part of the clinical evaluation,” the doctor explained. “When did she start exhibiting the symptoms she had when you brought her here? In the afternoon?”

“No. It started in the morning when she complained to her mother that she felt nauseous. Her skin felt hot, so she allowed her to rest but–”

“But?” The doctor prodded Abram looking at him inquiringly.

“An hour later, when Vedika went to check on her, she had a very high fever and her clothes were soaked in sweat.” Abram’s mouth felt dry. “Vedika was worried, but she’s had a few fevers this week that broke within a few hours, so she just assumed this one would be one of them. She told me Amira was dizzy. She hadn’t eaten anything so she went to take something from the fridge for her to eat and an ice pack too to cool her down. When she returned Amira was on all fours on the floor, crawling slowly towards the bathroom. She crawled haphazardly, wriggling her torso as if… as if she was struggling to get free from a cage or something. It was heartbreaking to watch her.”

“What do you mean?” The doctor looked at him quizzically.

“I… I don’t know how else to explain it. The way Amira flailed her arms and jerked her torso around looked as if she was struggling to escape something. At one point she even rolled over to her back and kicked her feet in the air, waving her arms around and screaming.”

“Was she short of breath?” The doctor inquired, his forefinger and thumb cupping his jaw.

“Vedika told me she was panting as if she had run a mile.”

The doctor deliberated for a while, then said with a warm smile, , “Look Mr. Abram, we all have our different ways of dealing with stress and fear. Certain traumatic events can temporarily alter our state of mind and provoke strong emotions, even after the threat has passed. The incident at your house was very traumatic for her. What she is experiencing is a sort of post-traumatic stress. Her body is still dealing with the trauma, and her mind is troubled as well. Her symptoms are mainly physiological reactions to stress. It’s the body’s way of coping with it.”

Abram leaned in towards the doctor. “All this is scary,” he whispered.

In an empathetic tone, Dr. Trivedi said, “There’s no reason to conclude the worst.”

Though Abram appeared to be relaxed, there were still many worries coursing through his mind. When will she get back to normal? Will she ever go back to being the girl she once was or was she scarred forever?

“There’s something else. For a while now, she’s been talking about a presence that she alone can see. It follows her, talks to her–“

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Visual and auditory hallucinations are not uncommon aftermaths of nerve-wracking situations. They usually disappear completely with the passage of time. Now, as for her frequent fevers, you see, acute stress increases the body’s core temperature for a short period of time. It also causes an increased activation of the sympathetic nervous system which in turn increases the heart rate. This way, the body releases more energy to help the individual deal with the stress. Normally, these effects gradually fade once the stress reduces or the stressor disappears. But sometimes, especially during cases of severe trauma, these symptoms linger far longer than they are supposed to.”

The doctor paused, placing his hand gently on Abram’s. “The mason’s death rattled us all. And on top of that, I don’t think she’s made any friends here yet. She must be missing her friends back home.”

“So you really have no diagnosis for her? Everything is fine?”

The doctor pursed his lips for a moment. “Yes. Right now, she seems mostly fine. It’s too soon to draw any valid conclusions though. Let’s just observe her for a while. Make sure you maintain a record of her daily temperature.”

“I’ll do just that.”

“Record her temperature at 8 am, 2 pm and 8 pm every day.” He tore a sheet from his notepad, scribbling rapidly on it. “I’m prescribing clonazepam and lorazepam in light doses.” He handed the paper to Abram. “You can get those in town. Let us wait for a day or two, if her symptoms persist, we may have to perform urine and blood tests.”

“All right. But one more thing–“

“Yes?”

Abram hesitated. He already said she’s fine, he thought. Do you really need to tell the doctor this extra detail? But what if this detail is actually very important? “Amira has become afraid to sleep alone. She told her mother to make sure to keep tabs on her while she sleeps.”

“What do you mean by ‘keep tabs on her’?”

“She wants her mother to check on her every few minutes while she sleeps. She is afraid that something sinister will attack her. She hears noises that to her, confirm her fears. And the weird thing is, she says that to avoid these creatures that come for her, she has to keep listening to her own heartbeats.“

“Listening to her heartbeats?”

Abram nodded.

“She can hear her own heartbeat loudly?”

“Apparently.”

The doctor’s face slipped into a contemplative expression. He couldn’t for the life of him think of any disorder that caused the sufferer to hear their own heartbeats loud and clear.

“Yesterday, she kept waking up intermittently throughout the night, saying something was suffocating her, even though her mother slept right beside her.”

The doctor was quiet for a while. Then he said, “Children in the developmental ages are usually unable to differentiate between reality and their imagination. They very often assume that the voices in their heads are real and so they react to them viscerally. This distorts their ability to see things in the right context. When they imagine the voices in their heads, they feel terror just like they would if the voices were actually real. The terror might even be felt more intensely.”

Abram twirled a loose thread on the table in his fingers. He sighed. “Doctor, I’m worried… My wife and I are worried. I understand everything you just said, but it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. Vedika is shattered over this situation. She can’t bear to see Amira screaming like that.”

The doctor held his gaze. “Right now, you should just try your best to comfort her. Try to focus on the positive aspect. Control your own fear and worry too. If your fear appears irrational, it will influence hers. That she is communicating her fears to you is a positive sign. Don’t take it for granted. Encourage her to talk more. Have more candid conversations with her. Fear becomes more insidious when repressed.” The doctor patted his shoulder, “Dealing with constant agitation requires patience and compassion. The process of showing Amira that some things she believes to be the truth are actually untrue could become frustrating.”

Abram nodded. He thanked the doctor and stepped out, closing the door behind him. So many emotions he didn’t know how to process were threatening to burst out of him. He took a deep breath and scanned the foyer for Vedika. She was nowhere in sight. Maybe she’s gone home with Amira. He shoved his hands deep into his trouser pockets and strode briskly towards his car with his head lowered out of the hospital.

* * *

Amira fell into a deep sleep the moment she got home, not waking up till 10 am the next day. Abram and Vedika were concerned, coming in at intervals to check on her and take her temperature. They noticed that her legs were swollen. Bruises that looked like claw marks also appeared on her skin out of nowhere. This baffled them. They didn’t have a cat or any other pet that could have created those marks. How did the strange bruises suddenly appear on her skin?

They concluded that the bruising had to be a side effect of the medication she was taking, and it was only incidental that it resembled claw marks. Even after her long sleep, Amira still felt weak and preferred to lie in bed.

Vedika got a cup of water for her and sat by her side. After drinking the water, she told her mother that she felt a burning sensation in her throat and her stomach was contracting wildly. Then, without even giving her mother a chance to react, she ran to the toilet and vomited bile. Vedika, her face pale, ran in behind her, holding up her hair as she vomited. The foul smell filled her nostrils. She washed Amira’s face and gave her small sips of water to rinse out her mouth. On hearing the commotion, Abram rushed in.

“What’s going on?” There was panic etched on his face.

“She says her stomach hurts and she just vomited bile. Do you… Do you think we should take her back to the doctor?”

Abram exhaled, “The doctor has already told us that everything is fine. There is no point in taking her back now. Let’s wait a few more hours and see.”

Vedika led Amira back to the bed and went to get a fresh cup of water. She fed it to her in small sips; she needed to be kept hydrated. After thirty minutes, Abram and Vedika let Amira lie back in bed.

Staring down at her daughter, Vedika said, “I think coming here was a bad idea.”

Abram looked at her sideways. “Vedika please, right now I am exhausted. I have no desire to tread on such an ambiguous subject right now.”

“Really?” Vedika whispered, turning to him. “Nothing like this ever happened when we were in Mumbai, though.”

“That doesn’t mean…” Abram sighed. “Vedika, it is only due to terrible luck that this is happening. Do not stress your imagination.”

“But it feels like it is, Abram. I have a gut feeling that–”

“Don’t draw conclusions based on your gut feelings. This whole thing is just a coincidence.”

“Coincidence? Did you see how she acted yesterday? She was sweating blood, Abram!” Tears streamed down her face now. “I just watched my daughter puke up bile. Look at the bruises on her arms. You call all these things coincidences?”

“It wasn’t blood-”

Vedika’s voice woke Amira up. She looked up drowsily into her mother’s red-rimmed eyes. “Mummy? What’s wrong? What are you and Daddy arguing about?”

Vedika tried to surreptitiously wipe the tears away. “Nothing, honey.” Her lips widened into a tremulous smile. “Go back to sleep.”

“I’m not sleepy anymore. My stomach aches. I feel like I might vomit again.”

Abram put a palm on Amira’s forehead, gently caressing it. “Do you want me to carry you to the toilet?”

Amira was quiet for a few seconds, scrunching up her face. Then she burped and chuckled. Abram laughed with her. “I suppose you don’t really need to puke then.”

“How are you feeling now, my love?” Vedika asked. Vedika could see that Amira was trying to smile reassuringly, but she was obviously tired and in pain. Amira looked at her father and Vedika intercepted the look of understanding that passed between them. Amira had always been closer to Abram than she was to her. Abram was the one who played with her and exchanged stories with her. But if he loves her so much, why does he refuse to see that this place is killing her?

* * *

Early the next day, Vedika went to check on her daughter. She noticed Amira struggling to breathe. “What’s the matter?”

“The air is too thick,” she cried.

Vedika walked over to Amira’s open window through which the warm rays of the morning sunshine shone into the room. She drew the curtains wider.

“Does that make it better?”

Amira shook her head. She squeaked slightly, her face folding in on itself in obvious discomfort.

Groaning, Amira sat up. She lifted every part of her body gently and tentatively, as if every single movement hurt her. She rubbed the bruises with her palm, tears coursing down her face.

“It stings… It stings so badly.”

Vedika held Amira’s hands away from her body, so she wouldn’t do more damage to the bruises.

“Hey… Baby... Mama’s here. Can you hear me? Mama’s here.”Vedika’s voice broke. She sat on the bed and held Amira closer to herself.

“Make it go away, Mummy.”

Vedika blinked rapidly to keep the tears from falling and stared up at the ceiling. “You’re going to be fine, okay? You’re going to be just fine.”

“Are you sure?” Amira whispered. Vedika said nothing.

Amira rocked back and forth on the bed, the tears still rolling down her face.

Abram came in, a worried look on his face. “What’s going on, Amira?” Abram asked, sitting on the bottom corner of the bed.

“I’m scared, Daddy.”

Abram pursed his lips.

Vedika was also at a loss. “What hurts?” she asked, though she knew that wasn’t what the girl was talking about.

“If he comes to take me, you won’t let him, right? You’ll protect me?” Amira asked, looking from her mother to her father, then back to her mother.

“Of course we will, honey. But nothing is going to come and take you,”Abram said.

“When I lie down, it presses on my neck and I can’t breathe. It’s claws tear at my skin too. See?” Amira said, showing them the bruises.

Vedika tried to laugh. “Tear at your skin? That’s just your imagination. Sweetie, you just have the flu. It’ll be gone in a few days.” She caressed her daughter’s cheek.

“What is a flu?” Amira asked. She sniffed, having stopped crying.

Vedika sighed. “It’s this thing where…” She stopped herself, trying to gather her thoughts. She wanted to tell her in a way that she would find easy to understand. “It’s when our body hurts terribly. It’s our body’s way of telling us that it is not well. But it disappears in a few days. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Amira nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. She seemed to be unable to communicate what she wanted to say.

“Your mother is right,” Abram said. “In no time, you’ll be able to dance again. And you’ll draw me more pictures with your crayons.” He smiled at her. “You could even use that one you told me you liked, the one that smells like strawberries.”

Amira reached out and held her father’s hand.

“I just want it to go away,” she whispered. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, then opened them again, “My throat feels dry.”

“I’ll get you something to drink, okay?” Vedika whispered.

Amira nodded.

As soon as Vedika closed the door behind her, she slid down to the floor with her back to the wall and buried her face in her hands. Her entire body shook with sobs. She felt hot tears stream down her cheeks and her face became sticky with snot. She tried to control her breathing so that Abram and Amira wouldn’t hear her.

Vedika started hyperventilating. Her chest felt hot, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t breathe deeply. This scared her, exacerbating the problem. Her breaths kept getting shorter and shorter. She banged her fist violently against her chest. It was a full-blown panic attack. Her hands trembled and her heart raced. With each breath, Vedika felt her lungs taking in less and less oxygen.She felt dizzy and her vision turned fuzzy. This is it. I’m having a heart attack. My daughter is in pain and I’m having a heart attack and I’m probably going to.

“Vedika?”Abram’s voice sounded far away.

Vedika didn’t look up. She shook her head and focused on getting some air into her lungs.

Abram sat down on the floor next to her. He took her hands in his and squeezed them. “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on here?” He extricated his hand from hers, pointing playfully at her head.

“Abram…” Her voice trembled. She closed her eyes and tried again. “Something is not right. Let’s go back. The city hospital is equipped with better facilities. Amira doesn’t look fine, she doesn’t sound fine. She’s obviously afflicted with something. How can you look at that little girl inside and tell me she’s fine? Something is seriously wrong. Let’s go to the city. It’s better than trusting some quack.” Her words were punctuated with sobs.

“Look sweetheart, even if we decide to go to the city, we’ll have to let Amira regain some strength first. You know very well that she won’t be able to travel in this condition.”

“At least we can make plans to take her out of here to a better hospital. She’s getting worse. I’m getting panic attacks every other day just because of her condition, and you’re still acting as if everything is normal. Just because Dr. Trivedi said so. Is it possible for him to know our daughter better than we do? More than I do?”

“I’m just trying to–”

“Stay strong, remain calm, or some other cliche…” Vedika scoffed. “I don’t know how long it will take you to realise that this is our only daughter’s life we’re talking about here.” She shook her head. “It’s almost like the village’s lethargy has rubbed off on you.”

Vedika wiped her face vigorously with her shirt, jumped to her feet, storming downstairs to get water for Amira.

Abram closed his eyes for a second, letting his head fall back and rest against the wall.

* * *

Amira’s grandmother held Amira’s small hand as she picked her way through the maze of trees. She walked briskly and seemed to be hurrying somewhere. Amira jogged behind her to match her pace. Then abruptly, the old lady stopped. She lifted her head to look at the black crows that flew overhead. Her eyes followed their flight as they both ascended and descended in the air.

“Come on, Dadi! We are running late!” Amira turned to face her grandmother, her brown eyes full of excitement. The grandmother smiled, reaching out to smoothen her collar. “My little girl of yesterday is acting all grown up.”Amira rolled her eyes.

They resumed their brisk pace, the grandmother’s grin echoing Amira’s enthusiasm. Together, they walked across through the patch of jungle. Soon they reached the lake.

Amira flashed her grandmother a smile, then pulled her hand away from her grandmother. She picked up pace and strutted forward, weaving through the dry grass.

“Stop playing!” The grandmother shouted over the wind, running forward to try and grab Amira’s hand.

“Look. how dirty and unbathed you are. Shame on you!”

Then, everything happened all at once.

The grandmother slowly undressed Amira. She soaped all over Amira’s body and then slowly began to rinse her, trying her best not to get too wet. Finally she nodded towards the lake. She held Amira’s hands and led her into deep waters. Amira thrashed the water playfully. She enjoyed the coldness of water sprinkled with the warmth of the early afternoon sun.

Suddenly Amira lost balance and slipped. She screamed as she fell into the clutches of a vicious rapid.

Amira screamed. She tried to run towards her grandmother, but as if her legs were moving in a body of water, she drifted further. Suddenly she hit the branch and got stuck under it.

Amira clutched the branch tightly in her tiny palms and pleaded with her grandmother to save her from the river.

Instead of help, though, Amira got the watchful eyes of her grandmother who looked back at her but didn’t seem to see her. She watched it for some time as Amira’s big brown eyes looked at her, pleading.

Amira cried and gasped for air as much as she could.

Her grandmother’s fists clenched as if she was just waiting for the moment where the small crack inside her would become a hole into the deepest hell.

Little Amira stuggled against the water trembling and glancing at her every few seconds, with eyes filled with hope.

Suddenly Amira’s grandmother inched forward from where she was standing and gently put her hand over the little girl’s head, almost giving her hope that this day would not be her last. But then, with vengeance, anger and joy in her eyes, she pushed Amira’s head under the water.

She didn’t let it go, though. It was as if she wanted to feel the wriggle and the struggle beneath the water, knowing full well that the power of the little girl’s life hung in the balance, all dependent on what decisions she would make.

She held Amira under the water till she no longer moved. Finally she felt relief. She felt calm, just like the little girl would now. Amira was no longer panicked and simply moved on to the next plain.

Vedika sprang from the bed, panting. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound emerged. Instead, she felt her throat choke with tears. She looked around her frantically. Her sheets were soaked in sweat and her hands trembled. She could feel her heart beating fiercely in her chest. Everything in the dream seemed so real. She could still feel the pain and horror.

Her jaw hung open for a few moments as she struggled to catch her breath.

She saw a figure move in the darkness. She squinted, then saw that something stood at the foot of her bed. Startled, she curled up in the bed quickly to keep as much distance as possible between herself and the creature, before realising that it was only Amira.

‘Amira?’ she whispered.

The girl stood wide-eyed, looking flushed. Her lank curls hung from her head, framing her small face. She didn’t blink, not even once. It was as if she wasn’t fully there, like she was not conscious.

Vedika tried to lift her body off the bed, but couldn’t. She felt as if a heavy weight was suddenly pushing her into the bed. Panicking, she tried to scream, but her voice wouldn’t work. Her throat was closed off and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t use her voice. She could, however, still whisper.

“Amira, what’s wrong?” An apprehensive sensation crept up inside her. Amira just stood there, staring at nothing. The void in her daughter’s eyes haunted her and she felt her heart beating fast again. She struggled on the bed, biting her lip, trying to inch towards Amira.

Deciding that Amira was too far to reach, Vedika moved closer to Abram to wake him up. She nudged him repeatedly with her shoulder but he only grunted in his sleep and rolled over to his side, turning away from her, which frustrated her. Well, if I can’t reach her, at least I can ask her to come to me.

“Amira, dear, do you want to sleep close to mama?” Vedika forced her face into a faint smile.

The girl didn’t move. She didn’t show the slightest physical sign of having heard her mother. She just kept standing there, wide-eyed, staring into space.

Vedika squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force down the pang of terror in her chest.

“Amira? Can you hear me?”

What’s wrong with her? Is she ill again? Vedika inhaled deeply and wriggled, with her arm outstretched, struggling to take Amira by the hand.

Eventually, she got close enough to touch her. When she reached out to grab Amira’s arm, all her fingers found was thin air.

* * *

“Abram…?”

“Abram! ”

The shrill voice jolted Abram out of his deep sleep. He woke up to find himself drowning in pitch black darkness, struggling to orient himself to his surroundings. He recognised the voice as Vedika’s and wondered absently why she was calling out to him so loudly in the middle of the night. He strained his eyes, trying to get them to adjust quickly to the darkness. Suddenly, a bright light filled the room.

“Abram!” The ear-piercing scream rang out again, resonating through the room. This time, her voice was laden with desperation and fear. Abram’s eyes widened in alarm and his heart quickened. He clutched the sheets tightly and scrambled to get out of bed, bracing his hands against the friction of the fabric. Propelled by sheer trepidation, he sprinted to the door, grabbing his shirt along the way. Pulling the door open quickly, and leaving it ajar, he continued dashing towards Amira’s room. The door was wide open. In his bewildered state, he collided with the wooden panel on his way in.

Inside the room, Vedika stood transfixed. She gaped, stupefied, at the wall in front of her. Confusion and dread pushed past Abram’s haze of sleepiness, making him aware of his surroundings. With carefully measured apprehensive steps, Abram walked up to stand next to her.

The wall was covered in eerie shades of black and red. Abram gasped in consternation. It appeared like a frame with ghastly sketches of spirals, drawn with a combination of chalk, crayons and soot. Abram struggled to comprehend what he was seeing. He stepped forward warily and squinted his eyes, scrutinising every detail. Several hard-to-read words were sloppily scribbled on the wall. It appeared as if some words had been written, then crossed out with squiggly lines in a fit of indecision. Some words even had doodles drawn over them, while others were written upside down. Abram had no idea what to make of the sight before him. It was scary, perplexing and upsetting all at once. He went weak-kneed as a vertiginous sensation clouded his mind. On top of the spiral two hands waved in different directions. He tried to fathom as much meaning as he could from the drawings on the wall, but the more he looked at them , the more bewildered – and despairing – he became. His eyes roved over every inch of the wall, trying desperately to find something, anything that could be even loosely affiliated with sanity.

“Abram?” Vedika said softly, choking back sobs.

No reply.

“Abram!”Vedika repeated as she gently nudged him, the panic almost swallowing her voice, reducing it to a faint but fierce whisper.

Abram turned his head to look at her, raising his eyebrows quizzically. She had a half-crazed, anguished look in her eyes. Pronounced pain lurked within her irises as she stared at him. Her hands and lower lip trembled.

“Can you believe this?”

Abram didn’t want to. He didn’t know how to react. The whole thing was mentally crippling. However, he had to be composed in order to encourage Vedika to calm down too.

“When did she draw this?” He asked, grabbing her hand and squeezing it comfortingly.

Vedika sighed, and then swallowed hard. She looked away from Abram back to the wall.

“I came to wake her up. She was mumbling ’Kill them... Kill them… Let them die.. . Let them die… ” Vedika said in a small voice. She turned back to look at him, her brow furrowed anxiously. Confusion and worry battled in her eyes, threatening to flood them.

Abram’s heart sank. His wife’s palpable distress amplified his. He tamped down his own emotions, casting around for something to say.

“Everything sounds intensely unrealistic.” Abram’s voice sounded distant to Vedika and she didn’t reply. She paced back and forth, inundated with an intense sense of powerlessness.

At that instant, in utter silence, Abram thought he heard a thin, sibilant sound. He abruptly turned back. Amira sat on the bed, her features twisted in a sinister grin. How had he not seen her when he walked in? He decided he must have been too preoccupied with the wall to notice. Amira watched them intently with her bloodshot eyes, still grinning. A muted squeal escaped Vedika, covering her mouth with her palms. She tried to rush to Amira but was held back by Abram, who learned to be on his guard around Amira.

Amira continued hissing at them. She pointed at Abram, spewing incoherent words. Suddenly, her body was seized with convulsions. She let out a volley of abuse, then fell back on the bed and lay there, panting. Silence was restored to the room momentarily.

“Baby…” Vedika’s voice broke as she jerked herself free and rushed to Amira.

Abram followed swiftly behind her.

Amira lay still on her back, her eyes rolled upwards. She seemed as if she was straddling the line between life and death. Abram got on the bed and held her, while Vedika knelt by her side and quietly sobbed, as she buried her face in Amira’s palms. The silence seemed to last for hours.

Amira mumbled incoherently in a deep, guttural voice that didn’t belong to her. Suddenly, she rose, pulled Vedika by the hair, and spat on her. Vedika gasped, recoiling immediately. Overwhelmed with hurt, she tried to reach out to touch and soothe Amira. Amira ignored her, struggling against Abram’s grip on her hands. Abram, even with his enormous build, found it difficult to hold her down. Amira hooked her arms beneath Abram, dragging him down. Amira squirmed like a wild animal. She dug her nails into his arm viciously and fought him with strange extraordinary strength.

The lights flickered, and abruptly a tube-light blew up loudly, startling them. The temperature in the room suddenly flared up. Vedika cast a terrified look at Abram, who tried his best to breathe normally in spite of his racing heart. It felt as if they were in an oven.

Amira began to sweat profusely. Suddenly, her body became limp and she passed out.

* * *

Dr. Trivedi sat on the edge of Amira’s bed. A strange putrid smell wafted through his nostrils. It smelled like a mix of sweat and rotten flesh, and it clung to his skin. He frowned and shifted uncomfortably. Amira’s breathing was slow but steady – a positive sign. He studied the small face closely, but couldn’t figure out what it was about her that made him feel as if suddenly, she was no longer familiar.

He instantly, became aware of Vedika’s presence beside him. She must have sneaked behind him while he was lost in thought.

Her eyebrows creased with concern, she bent over and put her palm on Amira’s forehead. The girl breathed heavily, her lips parted, and her small body shivering occasionally.

Vedika watched him anxiously, but was relieved to see Amira stabilize. Amira looked serene, like the embodiment of grace. Vedika hoped this much needed reprieve wouldn’t be temporary. She was scared of and for Amira, one more than the other.

Vedika locked eyes with the doctor for a moment. Her anxiety was so palpable that even the doctor could feel it. But at that moment, he wasn’t prepared to navigate the complexities of having the conversation with a hyper-tense mother.

“I…I feel like I’m failing as a mother,” Vedika began, her voice cracking as she blinked rapidly to keep the tears from falling. “I try hard not to panic but it’s getting difficult to pretend that I’m strong and can handle the situation when I don’t know what is going on, doctor.”

The doctor was awkwardly aware of the tension in the air. He forced an empathetic smile in the hope of dissipating the lingering anxiety. In a bid to divert himself, he took out his thermometer and shook it.

“This morning I saw her clawing at her thighs,” Vedika lifted the blanket for the doctor to see black and blue lines of bruises. A few teardrops fell, and she wiped them away impatiently as she added in short gasps, “As I tried to wake her up, her body toppled over the edge of the bed, almost hitting the floor.” The tears flowed freely now. “She needs help,” she concluded shrilly.

The doctor observed Amira’s skin rash carefully. The small red bumps started from her lower back and spread to the upper third of her right thigh, down to the right knee and across her abdomen. The doctor felt them. The skin felt textured, dry and flaky, like a patchwork quilt of plaque-like sores.

“What are they? Fungal acne? Infection?” Vedika’s worried voice pitched in. The doctor nodded, “It could be an allergy or even stress-related.” He gently slid the thermometer under Amira’s arm, recoiling at the touch of her hot body. “The child is fine,” he repeated to himself, shaking the uneasy gut feeling he had, yet he couldn’t help feeling sorry for the parents.

“Let me check her vitals,” the doctor said, trying to dodge Vedika. “Her temperature is slightly high,” the doctor said in a calm, measured voice, “38.2 degrees. But it’s nothing to worry about,” he quickly added. He slid the sphygmomanometer cuff on Amira’s arm and placed the stethoscope head over her artery. His uneasy feeling mounted as he took her vitals, but he remained composed. Her systolic and diastolic blood pressure was 124 and 87 mmHg respectively. Her heart rate of 117BPM was slightly alarming, so was her respiratory rate of 22 breaths per minute, but they weren’t perturbing enough to be disastrous. He informed her parents of the results of his evaluation.

“But the fever is high, and she keeps losing consciousness too. And look at those bruises on her legs,” Vedika protested.

“Any complaint of vomiting or nausea?”

“No.”

“Coughing?”

“No.”

“Any complaint about painful urination?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Did she complain about sore muscles?”

“No, she didn’t, ”Vedika said, sighing. She was suddenly even more terrified for her child. Because if what was wrong wasn’t something easy to figure out, what if… No. She shook her head vehemently. She would not allow her mind to wander.

“According to you, she is quite active.” The doctor felt the skin on Amira’s hand. It was slightly tender, but other than that nothing felt wrong. He placed his hand on the top of her knee while flexing and extending the joint. No crepitus either. Her vitals were worrisome but not exactly abnormal, so he was at a loss as to what could be wrong.

“To assuage your worries we can check her blood work-”

“What’s wrong with her?” Abram cut in, his voice pensive and distraught.

“Nothing that I can see. Her blood test and hepatic profile could provide clues to her health. But if you ask me, there is nothing wrong. Maybe she has a viral infection.”

“How do you explain her weird behaviour?”

“It’s most likely psychogenic fever. It is caused by stress. Perhaps the recent events have made her more anxious. Let’s observe her for one more day”.

“No. I don’t think its stress. She is deliberately scratching herself.” Vedika insisted

“Traumatic events affect the emotional state which in turn affects the physiological state. The high body temperature is a standard response from the body. Um… think of it as a defence mechanism.”

“Look doctor,” Abram cut in, embarrassed by his wife’s obstinate insistence. “I believe you, but my wife is stressed out too. Her concern is legitimate”.

“The fever is not my major concern.” Vedika sighed, “Amira has changed, and I’m scared. She is becoming increasingly violent. She throws temper tantrums whenever I try to comfort her. And she has never done anything like that before.”

The doctor listened carefully. He understood how frustrated they must feel. He thought deeply about what Vedika said, “What are you implying Vedika?”

“She needs help,” Vedika moaned, gesturing towards the bed. “Whatever is happening is sucking the life out of her.”

“Vedika. Relax. It’s too early to jump to conclusions. Anxiety can take a toll on the mind and make one feel things that don’t exist.”

Vedika studied the doctor’s face for a few seconds. The lines around his eyes seemed more prominent than before. She couldn’t understand why he dismissed her fears. If it was in a bid to comfort her, it was futile. She looked directly at him.

“Doctor, I’m her mother. I know what I’m saying.”

.

“Vedika.”

Vedika felt Abram’s piercing gaze on her. She suppressed her escalating concerns, biting down on her lower lip. Her brow appeared permanently knitted in worry.

“He is doing everything he can,” Abram threw up his hands in exasperation. “Like he said, it could be anxiety. Rest has the wonderful ability to heal even the worst scars.”

Vedika’s gaze fell on Amira, but she kept quiet. Maybe the doctor was right. She dreamt of running away with her daughter, far from everything.

“There is no need to worry,” the doctor leaned over the sick girl. “I will wait for her blood work before reaching a conclusion. You said something about drawing?” He tried to change the subject.

“Yes, over here.”

The three of them turned to face the wall where spirals were sketched with chalk and crayons. All three took a closer look. Dr. Trivedi tried to decode the words and symbols in the vast grey area sketched on the wall in front of him. He could not deduce any spiritual or religious interpretation from the spiral and zigzag lines that ran through it.

“How could a child spend her evening locked up in her room with crayons and pencils, drawing this terrifying thing?” Vedika asked, puzzled.

“Terrifying?” the doctor chuckled, “You should be happy that she came up with this. It might seem frustrating but it is a good sign. It shows that she is immersed in artistic endeavours.”

The doctor’s reply made her waver for a moment. She didn’t know how else to articulate her concern. How does she explain that she feels unsafe in her own house? The more her thoughts raced, the more depleted and hopeless she felt.

“Look Vedika,” the doctor said reassuringly, his hand on her shoulder, “Don’t read too much in this drawing. The reality you see here was created in a dream. I call the process ‘regeneration’.” With his other hand he gestured towards the wall.” “Children have a way of expressing themselves.” He drew her attention to the intricacies of the drawing. “See, if you observe closely Amira has put more stress on lines, dots and colours. It may look crude but it is very detailed. This is how a child’s mind works. They try to fill in as much information as their minds can conjure. What appears bohemian and terrifying to us, they just find funny. It might sound perplexing, but don’t obsess over it. Just as she’s trying to have fun, you should enjoy it too.” He turned to Abram, “In the meantime, you must engage with Amira. She loves drawing. Encourage her to colour her feelings with crayons.”

“Drawing?” Abram shook his head in denial. “You saw this one on the wall. It does not make sense anymore.”

“The drawing will help her to identify her fears. It will help her to recall vividly the traumatic events that stressed her psychologically. You see, a strong interpersonal relationship can help to bring her stress on the surface. This is not exactly a medical protocol, but I think it will help us receive a better response from her.”

Vedika bit her lip and hesitated, uncertain. An uncomfortable sense of foreboding still gnawed at her. She looked around to find Abram and the doctor staring expectantly at her. “I suppose you are right.” she finally said.

“One more thing.” Abram interrupted as Vedika moved towards the kitchen. The doctor raised his brows.

Abram mentioned Vedika’s previous night’s experience. The doctor listened thoughtfully.

“Well. Usually it is common to see dark figures during sleep paralysis. This happens because of the phenomenon of the mind waking up before the body does. Such episodes do not last longer than a few minutes.”

“But it seemed so real,” Vedika chipped in. “I’m not a mad woman who conjures up such things based on silly superstitions.”

“I apologise. I don’t mean to offend you. Did you have such episodes before?”

Vedika nodded. She recomposed herself and paced her way back to the table with a tray, putting down a cup of coffee.

The doctor thanked her as he picked up the cup, sipping the coffee. It felt refreshingly warm.

“Isn’t such diabolical sighting or sleep paralysis that you refer to also mean connection with the other realm? It is mentioned in the scriptures.” Vedika tapped her fingers on the table as if finding a connection with her thoughts.

The doctor looked suitably serious. “I suppose this is moving in an entirely different direction. If you think the magic orbs, the tarot reading, and possibly a voodoo doll could help you overcome your fears, by all means try them, but there is danger of doing more harm.”

For a moment Vedika felt embarrassed. She caught Abram staring at her, his gaze filled with incredulousness.

“I am so worried for Amira.” A muffled sob escaped her lips.

“I can understand. I am doing everything I can. She is experiencing stress just like the one you experienced yesterday. You were stressed and the darkness became an excuse to express it. Your mind created shapes out of nothing. Scientifically speaking it is your body’s way to survive. Better face something than the fear of nothing.”

“The moment she set her foot here, her world has become darker and mysterious.”

“Anxiety is a demon with destructive powers. Think of a child who was afraid of jumping into a pool for fear of cold water. In an attempt to show him there was nothing to be afraid of, his mother kicked off her sandals and dangled her feet in the lake to show that the water was warm or it could manifest by creating shapes out of darkness.”

Vedika sighed. She buried her face in her palms.

“How bad is her condition?”

“I would say not bad at all.”

They were too busy to notice Amira’s lips twitched in a malevolent grin.

Abruptly Amira’s eyes popped open. Her steady breathing turned into rapid bouncing. A deep guttural sound escaped from her mouth. Her stomach muscles contracted as if about to throw up.

Vedika felt a panic attack creeping up her whole body. She subconsciously grabbed Abram’s hand who stood in a daze and seemed as confused as herself. The doctor was quick to sit Amira up, and began comforting her. Amira stared at him without blinking; fury and hatred brewed in her eyes. Her contorted face was full of anger. Her arms wobbled as they made an effort to hit the doctor who as if anticipating this, quickly ducked to avoid the blows.

Abram swiftly jumped to the side of the bed, holding Amira while the doctor prepared the valium injection.

* * *

Vedika sat on the bed looking down at her beloved daughter, gently stroking her hair as she slept. Though she was glad to see Amira resting so peacefully, Amira’s frequent naps disturbed her. Her small daughter, who used to be vibrant and happy, sleeping for only short periods, now spent almost the entire day sleeping. How long would it take for her to get back to normal? Vedika wondered, stroking her daughter’s hair absently. Will she ever return to normal?

The room was chilly; Vedika periodically rubbed her arms to get rid of the goosebumps. Yet, Amira was sweating profusely. Her hair clung to her forehead with sweat which soaked through her clothes, dampening the bed. Due to the perspiration, her body felt cold to touch, which reassured Vedika. At least she doesn’t have a fever.

The past few weeks had been gruelling for Vedika. It was the biggest challenge she had ever faced–watching her child in such pain and suffering without being able to do anything about it. Her daily routine had changed completely. She was no longer inclined to do small tasks around the house, or keep herself busy in any way. Her topmost priority became watching over Amira. On most days, she sat beside Amira, watching her anxiously. Abram had been picking up the slack, but she knew that sooner or later, her lethargy would take its toll on the family. She just hoped that Amira would recover soon.

Her eyes brightened as Amira turned like she was about to awaken, but she merely rolled over in deep sleep. Vedika’s shoulders slumped. Amira had been sleeping for almost 11 hours now. Vedika hoped she would wake up on her own because in the past, whenever she woke her up, Amira would seem even more tired than she had been when she fell asleep.

As she looked at her daughter, memories of the wonderful times they had together came flooding back–Amira helping her out in the kitchen, drawing pictures for her and Abram, singing around the house.

The words her father had spoken to her a long time ago resonated in her mind. Sometimes it’s the choices of others and not yours that changes the course of your life forever. Now, reflecting on everything that had occurred within the past few days, she couldn’t help but think, How true. It had been Abram’s idea to take them on this vacation, and despite Vedika’s initial resistance, he succeeded in convincing her that it would be an ideal holiday for the family. So much so that, only a few weeks ago, she and Amira sat together and pictured their vacation–all the sights they would see and experiences they would have as a family, sowing seeds of hope in each other’s minds.

Vedika shook her head ruefully. She could still not comprehend how everything had gone so wrong so fast. Her mind was scrambled, battered by all the troubles that confronted them. It seemed like almost the very instant they set foot in the house, her vibrant dreams darkened. Her anxiety was at an all time high, nervous thoughts swirling in wild circles in her brain. And like anxious minds often do, her mind derailed and she found herself thinking about the early days of her relationship with Abram, when she met his family for the first time.

Almost at once, she found Abram’s family somewhat strange, particularly his mother. As she got to know her better, she realised that his mother was a control-freak; everything had to be done precisely the way she wanted it, and not differently. She obsessively controlled the lives of everyone around her. She tried to police everything about Vedika, from her behaviour to her dressing. This was quite nettlesome to Vedika, to say the least. She had frequent altercations with Abram’s mother. However, no matter how fiercely Vedika argued against any of her mother-in-law’s decisions or rules, she could never get her to change her mind. If she didn’t agree with a particular action, it just couldn’t happen. There was no room for negotiations or compromise.

It seriously annoyed Vedika that Abram didn’t even try to understand why she was furious with his mother just about all the time. Even so, she loved him deeply. She just wished he would try to see the situation from her own perspective instead of automatically taking his mother’s side.

Amira coughed softly, bringing Vedika back to the present. Amira opened her eyes slightly for a moment then her eyelids slid down again as she slowly drifted back to sleep.

Vedika looked at her daughter and sighed, recalling Amira’s tumultuous entry into the world.

Abram had been so excited when he learned that she was pregnant. He quickly got to work, punctiliously planning for everything that would be needed. He made sure he left no stone unturned, taking care of the arrangements for everything including Vedika’s maternal care. Vedika was excited too to be carrying his baby, and it warmed her heart even more to watch his fervent enthusiasm. But her enthusiasm had quickly fizzled out when the pregnancy turned out to be turbulent.

Throughout the first three months of pregnancy, Vedika endured severe morning sicknesses that lasted for the whole day. The nausea rendered her unable to eat and her upset stomach made her find it difficult to sleep as well. It got to the point where the mere sight of food made her nauseous. On the few occasions when she managed to swallow a few bites she immediately rushed to the bathroom to vomit, her constant retching making her abdominal region feel like it had been pummelled.

She didn’t feel as if she had a new life growing inside her; she just felt gravely ill, as though she was living out an endless nightmare. Abram, nearly crazed with worry, insisted that they move to his parents’ house and live there till the baby arrived, delivering the baby there also–a home birth. He claimed that way, it would be easier to follow the gynaecologist’s prescription of complete rest.

The whole idea made Vedika anxious. She understood that she needed more rest, and staying at a place where she didn’t have to do any chores might be beneficial to her and the baby. But she was against the prospect of spending the remainder of her pregnancy’s term with her husband’s family. Still, she succumbed to his wishes because she could see that it came from concern for her, and besides, she didn’t want to appear disrespectful of his family. And so within a few days they moved in with Abram’s family.

Despite the fact that Vedika avoided stressful tasks and was in bed almost all the time, her debilitating symptoms persisted into the second trimester. By this time, Abram was consumed with worry. He urged her to take multiple ultrasounds–which she did–to get to the root of the problem, but the issue proved elusive.

One day, quite unexpectedly, Vedika noticed swelling in her hands and feet. Severe recurring migraines also began plaguing her. She tried to sleep, hoping for a few hours of respite and that the pain would significantly reduce or abate when she woke up. But instead of subsiding, the pain exacerbated. When she woke up, her head throbbed painfully. Opening her eyes was torture, and getting out of bed almost impossible. She had to call out to Abram, asking him to take her to the hospital as soon as possible. The doctor did a routine check and found her blood-pressure to be 180/115. Appalled, she shook her head in disbelief, asking the doctor to recheck it. It displayed similar results.

This sent her into a panic.The doctor spoke to her calmly, telling her that it could be managed and she needn’t worry too much. His voice sounded far away. The only thought echoing in her mind was My baby mustn’t die, my baby mustn’t die. As her mind kept thinking those thoughts repetitively, her heart rate soared. Her vision blurred and she almost passed out from sheer anxiety. Eventually, the doctor succeeded in calming her down enough to run further tests, which fortunately came back normal.

Suddenly, there was a sharp wheezing that sounded like Amira’s air mattress was deflating. Vedika turned quickly towards her daughter, but the mattress was intact. The sound came from Amira; she had difficulty breathing. Vedika’s brow creased with worry. The sound was then replaced by a strange throaty gurgling and Amira’s belly caved in on itself and expanded again as she struggled to draw air into her lungs. Helpless tears sprang to Vedika’s eyes as she stared on impotently as her daughter’s illness plunged her into a mire of suffering.

Then, just as abruptly as it started, the noise ceased and Amira’s breathing stabilised.

Vedika closed her eyes and heaved a sigh of relief. Staring out of the window, her mind slid back down memory lane.

Since that panic-inducing visit to the doctor’s where she’d been diagnosed with hypertension, she felt an ominous sensation spread through her every time she visited the doctor for a routine check-up.

On a particular day in the 27th week of her pregnancy, Vedika woke up early, with a strange feeling as if something had snatched her away from her dreams. It felt as though she had been forced awake, yet she hadn’t. Confused and disoriented, she stared out of the window. She noticed that a storm was raging outside. The wind blew aggressively, making the windows rattle. The hairs on her arms stood up as a gust of wind blew into the room. At first, she assumed that the tingling she felt in the middle of her palm was a result of the cold wind. Then it morphed into thudding, hitting the same spot in the centre of both palms repeatedly. She reached for her phone to call the doctor, then thought that she would mention it in the check-up scheduled for later that day.

The moment Vedika stepped into the clinic, she was filled with apprehension so strong it made her shiver. Taking frightful step after frightful step, she walked into the office of the radiologist, with whom she had an appointment. The confused look on the radiologist’s face as he examined Vedika’s ultrasound made her heart sink. Her high blood pressure had caused placental insufficiency. In simple terms, it meant that the blood flow from the placenta to her baby was affected. The radiologist looked at her empathetically and informed her that she would have to be admitted immediately. Vedika, in spite of her heartache, felt grateful for that.

Vedika spent the rest of the weeks preceding Amira’s birth in the hospital. Frenzied teams of doctors and nurses came in frequently to inject steroid shots and to carry out a multitude of tests. She heard one nurse mention that her baby had a slight chance of survival and her heart missed a beat. Till she gave birth, she cried incessantly. The tension surrounding the safety of her baby was excessive and it weighed down on her. She would scream silently into the night in her ward and listen carefully for the soft echoes. She was physically and emotionally exhausted most of the time, and as her due date approached, all she seemed to be able to do was sleep.

Eventually, on a rainy night, she gave birth to Amira through a caesarean section. The baby was 7 days behind and measured 1.3 kg. The moment she held her baby in her hands and clasped her tiny fists, all her worries, and pain from the past months disappeared and she smiled. Then she laughed out loud with tears in her eyes.

Vedika glanced out of the window. It was dark. By now she knew this part of the village very well, although she noted dramatic changes. Far away the dusty houses slunk through where the boundary of the village once rested, crowding it like putrescent mushrooms around an old oak tree.

Beneath blackened eyelids she saw the flutter of movement of her eyes as if Amira looked for her, trapped within her unconsciousness.

“Amira, Baby I love you. I don’t think you’ll ever know how much. Thank you for being my daughter. Every day I thanked the universe for bringing you into my life. Your smile and boundless energy brought me so much joy. You were always so happy, my little angel and I will cherish every memory of you till the day I die.”

Vedika sobbed as Amira drifted back into her unconsciousness. She stared up at the ceiling, blinking back tears. She tried reciting many verses, but none had worked for her. Where are you, God? Had he failed her? God had always answered her prayers and she had always remained faithful. She was beginning to let doubt enter her mind, though. She wasn’t a very religious person, but she must have blasphemed holy spirits in some way. She was being punished–no, she was being tested. Her desperation grew.

Suddenly, Amira jerked awake and immediately thrashed around.

“Amira! Amira! What’s the matter? Mummy’s here.”

Amira shook her head vehemently and continued thrashing around, as if she was trying to escape from something.

“Darling, talk to me!” Vedika held her hands to limit her movement.

“Something is screaming so loudly in my head… How do I make it stop?”

Vedika was stunned into silence. As soon as she let go of Amira’s arms, she curled up in the foetal position and pressed her palms firmly over her ears.

Vedika’s heart sank. Memories of her daughter’s psychotic episodes such as this one gave her persistent nightmares and frequent, unrelenting panic attacks. Headaches became an everyday constant. She felt as if she was watching her worst nightmare play out in front of her.

Vedika’s eyes drifted from Amira lying on the bed and fell on the bizarre drawing on the wall. She flinched. She remembered the morning when she found the drawing and all the emotions she had felt flooded her mind again. She went weak at the knees. Why me? Why my daughter? What did we ever do to deserve this?

“Mummy.”Amira’s faint voice jolted her out of her dismal thoughts. She turned to her.

“Yes?”

“I’m cold,” Amira said.

Vedika’s eyes welled up with tears as a smile spread across her face. She must be getting better. She quickly took the blanket and wrapped it around the shivering Amira. Planting a kiss on Amira’s forehead, she noticed that the sweat was drying up.

Amira drew the blanket closer and closed her eyes for a while, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I’m so scared,” she whispered, then slowly opened her eyes and looked right into her mother’s.

The plain trepidation in her daughter’s eyes troubled Vedika. “Why are you scared, darling?” she whispered back.

“I don’t know.”

“Is it because of the pain? Don’t worry about it. You’ll be perfectly fine. It’s just a fever, my love. If you rest well, the pain will go away.”

Amira sighed. “Have I not rested enough?” she muttered under her breath.

Vedika pretended not to hear. Amira had just voiced the exact thoughts that ran through her mind every single day. How long will it take? It was getting more difficult to put on a brave face when she was with Amira, reassuring her that she would soon feel better when she herself felt like her entire being was crumbling. She knew that her daughter noticed her worsening condition and how her voice occasionally cracked when she talked to her. She reached for Amira’s hand and held it. It was clammy. She squeezed it tight, then linked her own fingers through it.

Amira looked up and smiled. However, her smile quickly faded and the creases returned to the middle of her forehead. “Mummy,” her lips quivered, “Will I ever be able to play around again?”

“Of course sweetie, you will,” Vedika forced a smile. “Very soon, you’ll be able to walk around, sing songs and draw your doodles.” She whispered softly, tweaking Amira’s nose.

Vedika felt as though the very air in the room was infused with painful tension. She had planned to stay with Amira throughout the morning, but suddenly, she decided against it. “Honey, do you want to eat something? In fact, milk is a better option. I’ll prepare milk and toast. I’ll be back within minutes.

“Mummy, I want to help,” Amira made an effort to rise, but promptly collapsed on the mattress.

“Please, just rest sweetie, everything is fine.” Vedika gently adjusted the blanket. “Let me fetch you some milk.”

Amira closed her eyes and let the exhaustion take over her body. She fell asleep abruptly, it felt as if she was paralysed. She sighed heavily and a tear slid down her face as she settled into deep sleep once again.

Vedika tried to keep her emotions in check as she wiped the tears from Amira’s face. She then straightened herself and looked through the window at the soft sun rays drifting in. The cool breeze still blew into the room. Vedika walked to the window and closed it slightly without shutting it completely, to keep Amira from becoming too cold. She turned and headed towards the kitchen but stopped abruptly as she nearly bumped into Aarti. The look on Aarti’s face was one she recognised all too well–that of pure terror.

Vedika took a few steps back. Her head throbbed violently. These damn headaches again. She shut her eyes tightly, holding her head in her hands.

“Aarti. What are you doing here?”

Aarti was wringing her hands and staring at the ground. She had dark circles under her eyes and her hair was a rat’s nest. Her breathing was also irregular. She looked unfocused, as if she had walked into the room accidentally.

Vedika grew concerned. She nudged her gently. “Aarti?”

Aarti’s head snapped up and she looked at Vedika briefly with a wild look in her eyes before looking away. “Madam, I… I have to tell you something. I’m sure Baby will be all right again soon. But… ” Aarti’s voice trailed off. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

“But what?”

“This morning, I met the wise one–”

“Wise one?” Vedika got increasingly peeved.

“The village elder. He’s an astromancer – he gazes at the stars. People say he can see things we can’t see,” Aarti mumbled.

“So? Can you please get to the point? Why did you go to see him and, more importantly, why are you telling me about it?”

“He said that you must get out of the house while you can.” She stopped wringing her hands. They hung by her sides, fidgeting nervously.

Vedika rolled her eyes. “What?” she asked incredulously. Then her heart sank as what Aarti said finally registered. She gasped, then whispered, “Oh my god!” Her headache intensified and she felt fuzzy.

“I… I didn’t mean to scare you. He said the malevolence of the house is seeping into the souls of the family. The winds are becoming hostile and the atmosphere around the house is turning dark.” Aarti paused, looking up from the ground. “He suggested we should seek Bhuva’s help.”

An acrimonious look replaced the panic in Vedika’s eyes as a wave of annoyance rose within her. “Bhuva? The exorcist? Are you out of your mind? My daughter obviously has the flu, not some black magic nonsense. I can’t believe you really just asked me to go to Bhuva. That’s unbelievable.” She tried her best to conceal the trembling of her hands.

“I know but… the villagers are scared. I pass by them on the streets every day and I hear them whispering about us,” Aarti’s eyes wandered across the room as if trying to locate something, “There are rumours that this house is possessed.”

Vedika had no patience for religions that required blind dedication from their followers. To her, religious zealots like Bhuva were wasting their time trying to solve an unsolvable riddle.

Despite Vedika’s inscrutable expression, Aarti persisted. “Madam, I’m sure Baby will eventually be fine. But since….” Aarti paused and took deep breaths, struggling to keep calm.

“Since what?”

“Since the medicine isn’t doing much good, we must try to find an alternative. We can’t just watch as she keeps suffering. We must seek Bhuva’s counsel. He is the one person the villagers trust.” Aarti hesitated, “Maybe he can tell us what’s really wrong with Baby so she gets better faster.”

“Are you insane?” Anger and agitation seeped into Vedika’s voice. She raised her voice, but was careful not to shout so as not to wake Amira. “What is wrong with you? I told you my daughter is fine! She doesn’t need Bhuva’s help. She only has the flu!”

“Please, listen to me.” Aarti was on the verge of tears. “The wise man said this house has a murky history. It is said to have devoured those who sought to destroy it. Ma’am, can’t you see? This sickness is not normal. I just want Baby to be all right, I just… ” Aarti continued, mumbling incoherently under her breath. She did not even notice whether or not Vedika was listening to what she was saying.

Vedika was unsettled by Aarti’s ramblings. She could see clearly now that Aarti’s suggestion had come from genuine concern, but her earnestness and insistence scared Vedika. Is this how bad my daughter’s predicament is? So hopeless that Aarti feels that the only person who can help her is Bhuva? Psychotic as Aarti appeared though, Vedika couldn’t help but see her point. The fever truly had continued for too long and nothing seemed to be working. She also understood what Aarti meant about the house. Could the house be importunate in its efforts to mould their destiny? Surely Amira’s illness and her own morbid dreams cannot be an unhappy coincidence. Instead of the abode of happiness the house seemed like a place of despair. It had its own intent. She thought about Bhoir’s mysterious death in their basement, how it seemed very strange. She couldn’t wholeheartedly say that she wasn’t aware that something sinister was happening, but still, she felt foolish in believing such archaic thoughts.

Vedika was baffled. She desperately wanted her daughter to recover as soon as possible, but the idea of chanting verses to ward off an illness seemed absurd and extremely disconcerting, and she was almost certain that it would end as a futile endeavour.

As Aarti saw that Vedika’s impenetrable expression had given way to doubt, she said imploringly, “Madam… Trust me. I understand your reservations but you know I also want what’s best for Baby.” She reached for Vedika’s hand and clasped it tightly in hers. The sincerity in her eyes was so raw that Vedika had to turn away. “I mean, look at Baby’s strange behaviour, and…” Aarti resumed her jabbering and her breathing quickened.

“Aarti, calm down. Calm down.” Vedika tried to soothe her, squeezing her hand.

Aarti stopped talking but kept muttering under her breath. Vedika didn’t want Abram to hear them. He would definitely be disappointed in Aarti for going to see the wise man and enraged that she suggested taking their daughter to Bhuva. It was better not to involve him.

Vedika sighed, looking back into the room at her sleeping daughter. “All right, Aarti. I’ll think about it. I have to go now; I have work to do. Make sure you relax and really, stop trying to see flaws in the house. I understand that everything seems weird right now and you’re scared, you’re concerned for Amira. But you should take it easy.“

“Yes, of course” Aarti glanced at Amira. “I just want Baby to be fine. I hate to see her suffer.”

Vedika nodded, finding something to agree with Aarti on. “The same here. I want my daughter to recover quickly and return to normal. All this pain she’s experiencing is getting too much for her.”

“Then let’s go to Bhuva as soon as possible. We can’t delay. There’s no time to think about it. I hope I am wrong about this house, but I trust the wise man. And he also said that the more time we waste, the worse it will become.” Aarti spoke in a strange prophetic voice, which sounded macabre to Vedika.

Before Vedika could open her mouth and articulate her response however, she heard a rustling sound. She looked around the room trying to decipher where it had come from.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Suddenly, a raven landed on the window sill behind them. Aarti gasped. The bird looked darker than night and had a grimy greasy-looking plumage. Certain spots on its body were bald, dark pink and rough, as if someone had plucked the feathers at those spots. The top of its head was a bald spot too. It cawed loudly, drawing Vedika’s attention. The incessant sound made her feel sick. She hurried over to the window, trying to shoo it away. At first, it refused to budge. She kept prodding the bird till it lifted its wings and flew off, only for it to reappear on the window sill a few moments later, cawing even louder.

Vedika huffed in frustration and stood back. Then she noticed something that made her heart sink. She realised she could hear the loud, irritating cawing but the crow’s beak was firmly shut. Her eyes quickly looked out of the window at the sky, but there were no other ravens in sight.

She frantically beckoned to Aarti who stood stupefied. In the five seconds it took for Aarti to walk over, the raven looked up and stared pointedly at Aarti. Abruptly, it flew in through the window, directly at her face. Vedika screamed, waving her hands in the air to ward off the loathsome creature. It left her alone and flew high above their heads in circles.

Amidst the ruckus, they forgot about Amira lying on the bed. Behind them and out of their range of vision, Amira’s eyes opened and widened, her mouth twisting into a snarl. Her steady breathing rapidly turned into panting; her chest bouncing up and down. Her stomach muscles contracted as if she was about to throw up and a deep guttural sound – which neither Vedika nor Aarti seemed to hear – escaped her throat.

The weather turned and the clouds outside gradually darkened as if a storm was approaching. Out of nowhere, the crow flapped its tarry wings faster, rearing back as if to gather momentum, and dive-bombed at Aarti, knocking her off her feet. Aarti nearly screamed her lungs out. She flung her arms over her face shrieking for help. The crow’s squeaky cawing amplified. Somehow, it sounded to Vedika like an ominous scream.

Vedika shrieked and stumbled backwards. She covered her gaping mouth with both hands, paralysed with terror. It took a few seconds before she gained control of her body. She broke into a cold sweat and rushed forward, trying to help Aarti while also being wary of the bird. She swatted at the bird, inwardly cringing with revulsion. The bird reared back again and again, flying at Aarti repeatedly. It even succeeded in drawing blood from her face, neck and arms, especially her forehead. The parts of her upper body that were exposed were covered in peck marks. The bird stopped attacking Aarti for a few seconds, flying back into the air. Just as Aarti finally struggled to her feet, it came at her again. She screamed once more, this time with tears pouring down her face. As the bird kept attacking, her screams morphed into wailing.

Vedika shouted, her voice mingling with Aarti’s crying and the bird’s cawing in morbid symphony. She was simultaneously revolted and terrified and couldn’t stop her hands from trembling. Tears streamed down her face. She threw the towel in her hands at the raven which continued to charge at Aarti, giving her numerous wounds. The towel hit it square in the beak, the force with which it was flung making it veer slightly to the left. It flapped its wings faster, and let out a strange hissing sound before flying out of the window.

With their attention fully focused on the bird, they didn’t notice as Amira’s tongue extended from her mouth twisting like a snake at the exact moment when the bird hissed.

Aarti curled up on the floor, crying and shaking violently. “Why…” She said amidst sobs, “Why would that foul creature charge at me so persistently?” The attack shook her to the core. She rose, wiping her tears with the edge of her blouse. The fabric came away bloody.

Vedika too was unnerved. She reached for Aarti and they held each other in a one-armed embrace as the residual terror made both of them quiver like a leaf. Vedika, remembering her daughter, swerved around abruptly to look at her. “Amira!”

The eyes of both Aarti and Vedika turned to Amira. She slept peacefully, hugging the pillow.

* * *

The silence of the village hospital echoed in Abram’s ears as he walked in. It felt almost solid, and it pressed against him from all sides. He yearned to find peace. To his increasing annoyance, Vedika had recently become rather shrewish. She seemed determined to believe that the house was working against them, plotting to destroy them. The whole idea didn’t make sense to Abram and he tried to tell her that, but she refused to reason with him. She argued with him almost every day and he finally decided that he was tired of it. Instead of staying home and arguing with her or trying to tune her voice out, he stuffed a pack of cigarettes into his back pocket and stormed out of the front door.

The hospital was the one place he knew in the village where he could go if he wanted to be left alone. He knew Dr. Trivedi wouldn’t mind. Besides, he wanted to seek the doctor’s advice. Perhaps he could gain some insight from the old man. He felt as if his family was falling apart before his eyes and since the doctor was the only true friend he had managed to make in the village, he was the only one he could confide in. Even as he walked through the hospital door, he was still angry. Why does Vedika just refuse to see reason? How often do I have to explain things to her before she sees my point of view? His long time dream of an idyllic vacation crumbled to dust, and everything he did to save it just seemed to be make matters worse.

Abram sighed and flopped down onto one of the worn out chairs. He lit a cigarette and sat back, blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. Closing his eyes for a moment, he recalled all the pleasant experiences they had before they moved here. He sighed again and took another drag from his cigarette.

“Good afternoon, Abram,” A deep, gravelly voice jolted Abram out of his musings. “It looks like you want to talk,” mumbled the doctor.

Startled, Abram turned his head to meet Dr. Trivedi’s gaze. “Good afternoon, doctor.” He shuffled on the chair as he took another long drag of his cigarette.

“Give me one of those.” The doctor pointed towards his cigarette. An expression of surprise passed through Abram’s face. He leaned forward and lit a cigarette for the doctor. With both fingers, he rubbed his eyes. Then he put his head in both hands.

The doctor took a deep puff, placed a hand on his shoulder and looked down at him. “You look as if you have a lot on your mind. Do you want to talk about it?” he asked sympathetically.

Abram looked up at the doctor. The doctor seemed exhausted. His white overalls were crumpled and his hair was unruly, like he had run his fingers through it many times.

The doctor grabbed a decrepit chair nearby and sat down facing Abram. He took a deep breath and smiled, picking up his notepad with trembling fingers.

“Are you all right?” The doctor’s voice vibrated through the empty hospital.

“I’m fine,” Abram murmured, sliding lower in his chair. “I just hope Amira gets better soon. As soon as possible.”

“Don’t worry too much about it,” Dr. Trivedi leaned back in his chair. “She just needs to rest more. Sleep will help reduce the symptoms. I have given her medication for that. The Valium should keep her calm.”

“But she’s already sleeping almost all the time. Does she really need more sleep?”

“Yes, she does. Her body needs rest to heal and renew itself and it can only really do that when she’s asleep.”

“Doctor,” Abram hesitated. “I just want her to get better quickly, because all this is causing issues between my wife and I.”

“Really? How so?”

Abram narrated his altercation with Vedika to the doctor. “Vedika’s behaviour is becoming worrisome. She has become so overwhelmed by Amira’s illness that it’s making her irritable and argumentative. She has created this narrative in her head that supernatural beings are the cause of Amira’s illness and will not be convinced otherwise. She blames me for everything and she’s always miserable.”

The doctor nodded and jotted a single word in his notebook. “Her reaction is natural. She’s a mother. No mother wants to see her child go through all that. The best way to handle this is to just calm down and not aggravate her more. If she pushes you to talk, say cool, reassuring words. Never go on the defensive. Sometimes, a little lie is more beneficial than speaking the absolute truth. Consider your words carefully before you articulate them.”

“I hate to see Amira like that. I want to help her. I’m trying my best to do everything I can, yet the improvement is nowhere in sight. And Vedika is making things so difficult.”

“You really can’t blame her. She just looks at this from a different perspective. You see hope on the horizon. Whereas Vedika, on the other hand, is apprehensive. She can only see that her child is really sick. It’s mostly an issue with a difference in the scope of vision. She can’t make you see it from her own perspective, you can’t make her see from yours, making both of you frustrated.”

Abram’s hands clenched into fists. “She blames me for everything. All I wanted to do was to give us all a taste of the rural life I had while I was growing up and maybe foster family bonding. But now we’re drifting further and further apart. We’re a shell of who we used to be.” He sighed and took a long drag from his cigarette.

“Vedika is driven by the conclusions she has drawn for herself. This prevents her from seeing the situation from the right perspective. Instead of being frustrated, you must tread gently. And, fair warning, she might bristle at this. You have to be prepared to bear everything ranging from suspicion to verbal insults. All these might sound absurd, but it is the simplest advice I can give you right now.”

“It’s so difficult, doctor.” Abram rubbed his eyes again.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this, Abram.” Abram sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Then he turned back to the doctor, trying to change the subject. “Does anybody ever visit this hospital?” He gesticulated at the empty space around him.

“Rarely.” The doctor chuckled. “This village has its own way of treating itself. It is not easy to replace magic spells with pills.”

“You never tried to explain things to them?”

The doctor’s eyes drifted contemplatively. “These people? I never got a fair chance to explain. I came here to help people, but they immediately saw me as a threat. The villagers are determined and persistent in their rejection of modernisation. However, I did have an assistant at one point. But eventually I had to return to square one.”

“What happened?” Abram frowned.

“That’s a long story.” The doctor took a deep breath. “Would you like some tea?” he asked, rising from his seat.

Abram nodded.

The doctor walked down the hall and went into another room, presumably a kitchen.

While he prepared the tea, Abram mulled over everything the doctor had said. The sadness accompanying everything going on in his family washed over him all over again. The doctor advised him to try and get Vedika to see the situation from his point of view, but it appeared to him a daunting task. She’s adamant. And she’s not going to believe me over her gut feeling, no matter what I tell her. It’s like she’s bent on making matters worse. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He almost wished he hadn’t brought them all here. Not because he believed that some sort of supernatural thing was going on, but because at least if they were back in the city and Amira had got sick like this, Vedika would have had no reason to blame him.

The doctor returned a few minutes later, carrying two large aluminium mugs with steam rising from them. He shuffled back to his seat and placed them on the table in front of Abram as he continued his story. “One day, the villagers had a meeting of minds, and there they decided I wasn’t welcome. They chose to transmit the message brutally.” The doctor spoke in a voice devoid of any emotion.

Abram picked up his mug and held it in both hands, using the warmth to soothe himself. “What did they do?” He was intrigued.

The doctor pursed his lips for a moment before replying. “My assistant was kidnapped on his way to the hospital,” The doctor turned his head to look out of the window. “The next morning, his beheaded body was found near the hospital. He was made an example of. His murder was to serve as a deterrent to others. And you know what? It worked.”

“Oh,” Abram gasped. “That is so horrifying. What about the police?”

The doctor laughed bitterly. “If I had approached the police, I would’ve just been calling more trouble on myself. It’s easy to be on the people’s side instead of justice. They just looked away as if nothing had happened.”

Abram shook his head sadly. “Why didn’t they try to come to you?”

“Maybe they were terrified of my black magic.” The doctor brought his mug to his lips and gave Abram a sly smirk over the rim of the mug, then he laughed and shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t run away from them. I waited here. After all, I had nothing to lose. Besides, I felt I owed it to the man who was killed to not give up so easily.”

Abram regarded the doctor with affection. His sanguine resilience and the genuine compassion he showed impressed him. The ageing doctor reminded him of his father, stern yet warm. Strangely, he felt a strong connection to the doctor. He leaned forward. “What about your family?”

“They are all memories now. Everything’s very blurred—I lost them all a long time ago.” The doctor’s eyes got slightly unfocused. He shook his head, as if he was shedding the pain. “A few days after my daughter was born, we realised that she was sick. She couldn’t breathe well and despite my best efforts, I couldn’t save her.” His voice stuck in his throat. A few teardrops slid past his eyes. He blinked rapidly to stop the rest from falling and looked down. “I grieved for a long time. Abram, time doesn’t really heal all wounds as they say. It just teaches you that you have to pick yourself up and not let the pain get you down in your day-to-day life. You have to live with it, work through it, even when you know things will never get better because your loved one has gone forever. I not only lost a child, the love of my life was taken from me also before her time. We were never able to have another child and my wife was so broken over it. She died soon after we lost our daughter. Till today, when I think about her, fresh grief consumes me.”

Tears welled up in Abram’s eyes too. He couldn’t imagine losing Vedika and Amira; how lost and hopeless he would feel.

They both fell silent.

Abram found the doctor very likeable. The doctor picked up a tissue from the table in front of them, and blew his nose.

Suddenly, Abram remembered an incident that had really bothered him. Amira had been having one of those episodes where she claimed that she was hearing and seeing strange things. She rolled on the floor, shaking violently. Vedika tried to help her up, but she kept wriggling away from her grasp. Then, in one final attempt to grab her and pull her off the floor, Vedika stood over her and tried to quickly carry her. Amira pushed Vedika off her so forcefully that Vedika stumbled. The incident left Abram confused and deeply concerned. She’s too young to have such strength. He told the doctor about the incident.

The doctor brought his cup of now lukewarm tea to his lips and took a sip before replying. “Anxiety can distort a person’s mind. It can make a person psychotic and cause chemical imbalances in the brain which lead to mood instability. You have to learn to deal with it till she recovers.”

“But how can a young girl like her become so strong that she can brush her mother away easily and with such force?”

“The human mind is a complex thing, Abram. Paranoia sometimes causes people to be exceptionally strong, stronger than they could ever be when they’re calm. It’s the adrenaline pumping through their system. The brain alerts the body, telling it that there’s imminent danger–even though there isn’t–causing the body to produce more adrenaline which provides a momentary surge of energy. There’s no reason to fret, however. She hasn’t gained any sort of permanent strength and she’s not dangerous in any way.”

Abram narrowed his eyes at the doctor. “What do you mean ‘She’s not dangerous in any way’? I just told you that she literally shoved her mother. How do we control her if she’s able to just push anyone around?”

Dr. Trivedi held up one hand. “Look, I know dealing with paranoia can be terrifying.” He shifted in his seat. “Especially in this case. I mean, we are dealing with a mind that is psychotic and paranoid. But her condition is not so far out of the ordinary.” The doctor reached into his coat and pulled out a scalpel, “Look at this. I am sure you can picture this in your mind. You can also visualise it as a weapon that has the ability to kill. In fact, if you stretch your imagination further, you could see it killing someone. Does that mean you are hallucinating or that something is wrong with you? Everybody is capable of imagining and hearing things in their head, but that does not mean they are dangerous. Amira has just temporarily lost the ability to tell what is imagination and what is real.”

“But she is just a little girl. Why is she going through all these strange emotions?”

The doctor was quiet for a while. He seemed to be thinking. “Tell me one thing. Does she ever mention having episodes of blackouts or horrible nightmares?”

“No blackouts, no. And she’s always said that her dreams are usually pleasant.”

“Abram, I am not indicating anything here, but bear in mind that any form of childhood trauma can make a child extremely sensitive which might lead them to fall apart once placed in an unfamiliar environment.”

Abram shook his head. “Amira has never experienced trauma of any kind. She has always scored good grades and is loved and adored by everyone around her. Back home, her social circle is enormous. She finds it really easy to make friends.” Abram paused and took a deep breath. “Vedika thinks it would be advisable to shift her to a city hospital.”

The doctor nodded. “I understand. In fact, I think it’s a good idea. You will be able to access modern diagnostic tools. Maybe the doctors over there will detect something I’ve missed. However, I suggest you should wait for a day or two. I want to put her on IV, to subdue her outbursts.”

Abram’s heart sank to somewhere around his knees. He looked around the dilapidated hospital. Does this place even have the facilities to admit a child? He thought. He knew Vedika would never agree. He swallowed hard and said, “Doctor, this place is… it’s not… ”

The doctor smiled, “I know. I never asked you to bring her here.” Abram’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I will set up the equipment in your house.”

Abram heaved a sigh of relief.

Dr. Trivedi rose from the chair. He placed his hand on Abram’s shoulder, “I understand how stressed you two are right now. But you have to be patient. The body takes time to heal. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

Lowering his head, Abram nodded. “Thank you, doctor.”

“Anytime.”

As Abram walked out of the door, he pondered his current situation. There was so much happening at the same time. His mind found it difficult to catch up and he could feel a breakdown approaching. He pulled his jacket tighter and walked out, with an expressionless look on his face.

* * *

Back home, Vedika too was thinking things over. Aarti’s words replayed themselves in her mind. Was it true? Was Amira really a victim of the possession of some vile spirit? She didn’t know what to believe anymore. Tears formed in her eyes. The thing that hurt her most was Abram’s refusal to take Amira to the city hospital and leave the house forever. In her opinion, they should leave as soon as possible and not look back. To her, it was obvious: The house was a bad news.

Vedika felt uncomfortable in the house, despite the fact that they’d tried to revamp it and make it habitable, and had lived in it for a number of days. The thought of spending more time in the house brought her immense grief. Each day she spent in the house was disconcerting to her; she couldn’t imagine having to spend more days here. She had an indescribable hatred for the house and felt so lonely, despite being surrounded by people.

Amira wouldn’t talk to her–she was barely awake long enough to eat, let alone talk to her mother. She tried as much as possible to deal with her own anxiety and heartache, but it proved to be too much for her to handle alone. Secretly, she held Abram responsible for bringing her and Amira to live in this cursed house and urging them to stay. She was enraged at him and felt an urge to shout at him sometimes, but she didn’t. She shut him out instead.

However, as time elapsed, it became necessary for Vedika to share her feelings with someone else. She could not hold it in anymore. All the things she had heard and seen Amira do, all the things going on around her–could it be that it wasn’t real? Vedika was befuddled but had no one to confide in. She felt like a flood of pain was spreading through her, but she couldn’t say exactly where it hurt. Even the view of the village that had always managed to slightly brighten her mood began to seem too bright, too intrusive, too much. The azure of the butterfly wings seemed too intense. The beat of the drums playing her favourite songs too hurt ears. There was nothing left about the village or the house that she still revelled in.

She just wanted to get out.

Vedika sighed and rose, deciding to check on Amira. Amira slept soundly. Vedika was tired of her constantly being asleep and felt an urge to wake her but decided against it. Let her get her rest. Maybe the doctor is right and it will help her get better.

She went back into the living room and sat on the sofa, turning to look at Amira’s photograph.

The doorbell rang.

She got up and opened the door.

Aarti, the maid, stood there, holding a vase of fresh flowers. “I brought in some fresh flowers from the garden,” she said quietly.

The mood in the house was a sober one. Except when Vedika and Abram were arguing, no one ever spoke loudly. Ostensibly it was to prevent Amira, who always slept, from waking up, but Vedika knew it was more because everyone in the house was emotionally distressed and could rarely be bothered to raise their voices. Vedika nodded to Aarti and stepped back, allowing her to enter. Deciding that she needed tea to calm herself, she strode to the kitchen and put the kettle on. As she poured the hot water into a teacup she heard a soft knocking and looked up to see Aarti standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Madam? I need to talk to you,” she said, with her gaze fixed on the floor and her arms clasped behind her back.

“Come in. Would you like some tea?”

Aarti shook her head and stepped forward, rocking back and forth on the arches of her feet nervously.

Vedika turned and rested her back on the kitchen counter, bringing her teacup to her lips. “What’s the matter?”

Aarti swallowed hard and whispered, “I’m worried, Madam. I’m really worried that Baby will get worse if we don’t act quickly. We don’t have the time to stall. She’s sleeping more, eating less and acting out more. We have to consult Bhuva as soon as possible.”

Vedika slammed her teacup on the counter so hard that the tea spilled everywhere.

Aarti flinched.

“I can’t believe this. Why don’t you stop bugging me about this? I’ve already told you, I don’t need advice from some witch doctor. She’s not possessed and she’s not afflicted by any evil spirit. Can’t you see that she’s merely unwell?” Vedika raised her voice, but instantly regretted her action. After all, Aarti was only trying to help in her own way. She mellowed. “Aarti, I’ve already told you that I will give it a thought. Please don’t bother me with this anymore.”

Aarti nodded and began collecting dishes and placing them in the sink. She couldn’t comprehend why Vedika would choose to waste time when there was a good chance that going to Bhuva would help Amira. Why would a mother choose to watch her daughter suffer instead of tossing aside her religious beliefs and seeking help?

Aarti was the one who watched over Amira constantly, sometimes spending the entire day in her room, talking to her sleeping body. Amira occasionally woke up and responded to her, sometimes with words, other times with a weak smile. There was one time she had just reached out, grabbed Aarti’s hand and squeezed it. That simple action had made Aarti’s chest feel tight and she had to fight back tears.

Occasionally, when Amira woke up, she would just stare into space, not registering Aarti’s presence. It broke her heart to watch as Amira transformed from a lively young girl to a child who could barely function. To her, Amira’s condition was dire enough to warrant a visit to Bhuva.

Vedika leaned against the counter sipping the remains of her tea as Aarti washed the dishes. “As soon as you’re done with the dishes, we have to go and clean Amira up.” She smiled pointedly at Aarti.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Suddenly, a loud scream rang out, piercing the silence. It reverberated through the air, sending Aarti and Vedika running towards Amira’s room. When Vedika saw her daughter, she immediately gasped. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Aarti shrieked, holding on to the doorframe to keep herself from collapsing.

Amira hung untethered in the air, upside down with her arms sprawled out. She kicked her feet in the air, trying to free herself from whatever held her in that position. Her face was completely flushed; the blood having been pulled by gravity to her head. Vedika was transfixed. Beside her, Aarti was weeping.

“Oh my God-”

Amira’s screams turned into a deep, guttural groaning that seemed to come from every corner of the room. The whites of her eyes had completely disappeared. Her hair was clumpy and stood on end, looking like silky black spikes directed towards the ground. Her body jerked uncontrollably, with terrifying rapidity, causing the groaning sound coming from her to break in consistency. She gnashed her teeth, making a strange clattering sound that sounded to Vedika like metal chains knocking against one another. She foamed at the mouth and small amounts of blood dripped down the left side of her mouth. She had bitten her tongue.

The thought about her daughter struggling with pain succeeded in jolting Vedika out of her daze and into action. She ran into the room and reached for her daughter’s arm, trying with all her might to pull her down. “My baby… Oh my God, What’s happening?” She kept frantically trying to pull Amira down from various angles. What is it that is holding her up? Let my baby go! Her heart beat so hard, she felt it was going to tear out of her chest. Her entire body trembled and her stomach churned. She ran around hysterically, trying to pull her daughter away from the unknown.

Aarti ran around too, helping her.

Amira’s groaning stopped and her body stiffened. As if her eyes came back into focus, they drifted around the room and alighted on her mother. Her eyes widened. “Mummy… help me…”

“I’m trying, my baby. I’m trying…” Vedika sobbed. She pushed and pulled and tried many other different tactics but nothing worked.

Suddenly Amira slapped Aarti on the face. Aarti dropped to the floor and dissolved into fits of sobbing.

Amira’s wide open eyes began to glaze over her.

Suddenly, as if it had been somehow orchestrated, all the doors in the room began banging on their own accord. The doors swung open, then violently swung shut. All around them, they heard loud pounding noises caused by the repeated slamming of the doors. Vedika whipped her head around in confusion.

Aarti looked up from where she sat on the ground, her eyes widening. Her lips began to mumble prayers.

Amira’s body jerked around again, this time more violently. It seemed as if she was convulsing in the air. All at once, she screamed out loudly and her eyes rolled up in their sockets. She then flopped onto the bed beneath her, still shaking and jerking. Her mother rushed to her, cleaning up the blood from her mouth and trying to keep her from hurting herself.

Amira mumbled something in a language Vedika couldn’t recognise. It sounded like chants. What is she saying? What language is this? How does she know how to speak it? What is going on? Vedika started hyperventilating. She hugged Amira to herself as Amira babbled on, tears streaming down her face. Turning to Aarti who stood up and had come to stand behind her, she said, “Get Abram. Quickly! Tell him to come here right now!” Her voice was low and punctuated with sobs. Vedika panted heavily. She frenziedly patted Amira’s hair, then held her small face in both palms. “Amira, look at me. Mummy is here. Can you hear me? Amira!”

Amira just lay there, shaking and chanting under her breath, her eyes rolled back in her head.

Vedika put a fist to her mouth to stifle the scream that threatened to escape her throat. She was utterly befuddled. Having too much nervous energy to just sit and wait for Aarti to return with Abram, she rose and paced the room, stealing glances at her daughter periodically. She tried to tell herself that perhaps all this wasn’t real. Maybe it was just her imagination, her mind playing tricks on her. But she didn’t believe that, not really. This was too elaborate to be her imagination. It looked and felt too corporeal.

Realising that she had momentarily forgotten to look over at Amira while she was contemplating the reality of the situation, she turned back to glance at her.

Amira had risen on her feet. She stood right behind her mother. She stared at her mother with eyes that were completely black, crying a thick rivulet of blood. The blood left a trail on her cheeks. She opened her mouth in a smirk and instead of teeth, Vedika saw black conical sharp structures lined up in her mouth.

Before Vedika could react, an invisible slap came out of nowhere, landed on her face and sent her tumbling to the ground.

The last thing Vedika heard before she was swallowed by the abysmal darkness was hysterical laughter in her daughter’s voice.

* * *

As soon as the doctor walked into the house, Abram rushed forward to meet him. The occurrences of the last few hours had left Abram trembling like a leaf. He was panic-stricken. His hands shook and his voice stuck in his throat as he tried to explain to the doctor what had happened. He sweated profusely, his fists clenching and unclenching. It took a tremendous effort to keep himself from choking with tears. After he narrated everything that had happened, he took a deep breath, and looked straight at the doctor with anguished eyes, concluding softly, “Everything is turning into a hellhole, doctor.”

The doctor placed a comforting hand on Abram’s shoulder and motioned for him to be calm. He moved past Abram into the living room.

Abram resumed talking, describing the incident in greater detail. “I…I found her lying on the floor. How… how…” He took a deep breath and tried again.

The doctor said nothing, but he headed towards Vedika who lay unconscious on the old sofa.

Abram stared at a spot on the wall blankly and swallowed hard.

“And Amira?” The doctor looked at him questioningly.

“She was sleeping soundly. I…I don’t understand…everything is so confusing.” He closed his eyes and shuddered. In the uncomfortable silence that followed his statement, he opened his eyes and saw the doctor sliding his stethoscope over Vedika’s chest.

Abram frowned. The doctor’s apparent indifference to everything he was saying annoyed him. “Are you even listening to me, doctor?”

“Hmm?” The doctor looked up at Abram. A few seconds elapsed before he said, “Oh. Of course, I am. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Something about the doctor’s attitude felt amiss to Abram. The doctor sounded less brisk than usual and seemed quieter and more congenial. This was off-putting to Abram. He felt the doctor’s disposition was inappropriate for the situation, but he told himself it didn’t matter and shrugged it off.

“I’ll check on Amira.” Abram darted out of the hall, towards Amira’s room. Opening the door slightly, he peeped in. She was sleeping soundly. He heaved a sigh of relief and went back to the living room. The doctor stood in front of Vedika’s prone body, staring at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. He looked up as Abram walked in.

“I don’t understand.” The doctor shook his head. “This couldn’t have been caused by a mere fall. It’s just not possible.” The doctor looked at him thoughtfully.

Abram inched closer, trying to keep his voice calm and level to hide his rising apprehension. “What do you mean?”

“If it was a fall, it was a terrible fall. She has contusions on her body which appear as if they were caused from something similar to blunt force trauma, not a mere tumble.”

Abram was confused for a moment. But Aarti said she found her lying on the floor here. Did she really fall or something caused her to lose control and faint? What is the doctor getting at? Then the realisation of what the doctor was saying dawned on him. He gasped. He tried to speak, but his voice got increasingly quieter; he found his words reduced to a whisper.

Just as the doctor chose to reply, a shrill wail emerged from Amira’s room, breaking the tense silence. Both Abram and the doctor bolted to Amira’s room, but the doctor was swift despite his age, and got there before Abram.

Immediately the doctor opened the door to the room, a smell of urine wafted to his nostrils.

In here, the screaming was amplified. Abram felt as though the sound was piercing through his eardrums.

The doctor stopped dead in his tracks. Heart pounding in his ears, Abram pushed past him into the room. He noticed that the room appeared darker than the rest of the house, as if small shadows lurked around the corners that didn’t seem to be caused by the direction of the light source. However, he pushed those thoughts out of his mind, focusing solely on his bawling daughter. A light grey mist swirled above her. It was so slight that he almost missed it. Concluding that it was probably an optical illusion, he turned away to look at Amira’s face.

It was deep red and contorted in an outlandish expression. Amira was screaming forcibly, the tendons and muscles in her neck protruding as she lifted her neck off the bed. Her eyes, which had a yellowish tinge, were focused on the door. She pounded on the bed repeatedly with her fists.

Abram pulled back the sheets and was aghast by what he saw.

Amira’s stomach was distended, appearing as if it had grown twice its normal size in just a few hours. Abram’s breath caught in his throat as he rushed towards her, almost slipping in a pool of liquid on the floor that he hadn’t seen before. As Abram sat on the bed to try and soothe Amira, a fluid soaked through his trousers. He instantly jumped up and observed the bed, discovering that she had urinated on the bed and the urine had soaked through the mattress. He realised that the liquid pooled on the floor was probably urine as well. His heart rate picked up again. No illness has ever made Amira go back to bed-wetting. Something is terribly wrong.

In a loud but dissuasive voice, he said “Amira! Amira, look at me!” Her eyes were open but she didn’t register his presence.

Suddenly, Amira’s lips trembled. She lifted her body off the bed, pushing up with her palms. Her eyes rolled back so that the whites appeared to fill the sockets. She shrieked, then landed back on the bed with a thud, falling silent. She lay there, twitching.

Abram, shell-shocked, continued to try and get through to her. “Amira? Amira?” He shook her, then swivelled his head around to look at the doctor. “Help me!”

The doctor, who was watching, froze for a brief second before approaching her. He took long strides into the room and, motioned to Abram to get his bag, held Amira by the shoulders and pinned her down on the bed, in a bid to control her fitful jerking.

Amira abruptly stopped twitching. She stiffened and lifted her head from the pillow, panting heavily. Her eyebrows were raised so high they almost disappeared into her hair which was matted down on her forehead. Her eyes widened. Slowly, she turned her head to face the doctor, her lips stretching into a twisted grin. Then, looking straight into the doctor’s eyes, she chuckled.

The doctor recoiled. “Abram?” His voice sounded uneasy, echoing through the room. “Abram, please hurry.” He kept holding her down to prevent her from jerking around again.

Then, Amira’s body went limp on the bed and her breathing evened out. The doctor heaved a sigh of relief and took his hands off her shoulders.

Abram rushed into the room, the doctor’s bag clutched in his hand, only to find his daughter resting serenely. ‘‘What? But she was twitching just a few seconds ago. What happened?’’ He dropped the bag on the floor unceremoniously and quickly walked to his daughter’s side, “Baby?” He said softly, leaning down to look at her more closely. “Are you all right?”

“She’s fine, Abram.” The doctor rose from the bed, straightening himself. He took a deep breath, staring down at her. “It seems it was just another one of her anxiety attacks.”

Abram closed his eyes and sighed, then looked up at the doctor. ’’Doctor, not to argue with you or anything, but that conclusion is not taking us anywhere. All this doesn’t seem just anxiety. She’s only getting worse. Look at that.” He pointed at the pieces of cloth he had used to tie her hands and legs. “How did she manage to free herself? How did we even get to this point where tying her is not enough?” Abram’s voice broke and he turned away from the doctor to hide the tears in his eyes.

The doctor’s voice softened. “Abram, I’m doing the best that I can right now. She’s suffering from severe anxiety; sometimes it gets worse before it gets better. And these bonds aren’t so strong, it’s just fabric. The tremendous terror in her brain propels her like nothing else can, temporarily making her physical strength increase.”

All the doctor said sounded empty to Abram. He had heard the same thing for days. It’s just anxiety. Anxiety, anxiety, anxiety. It seemed far more serious than that to him, but he wasn’t a professional so he refrained from jumping to conclusions. He was sure, though, that just now he had heard a level of doubt in the doctor’s voice.

The doctor looked compassionately at Amira who lay peacefully in the bed with her eyes closed. It hurt him deeply that a girl so young was going through so much pain. He leaned over her, gently brushing away a strand of hair that had stuck to her forehead. Her skin felt clammy. His fingers came away slightly sticky. Frowning, he ran a finger over her forehead and held the sweat-like liquid in his hand to the light. When he realised what it was, he gasped. “Oh my God.” He promptly removed the blanket from her body.

“What is it?” Abram sounded apprehensive. Amira opened her eyes momentarily, blinking rapidly. She looked in Abram’s direction but he could tell she didn’t really saw him. For the first time, he noticed how matted her black hair looked. It was darker and slicked to her head. He reached out and touched the hair and, like the doctor’s had, his fingers came away sticky too.

Abram examined his fingers. “Is this blood?” he whispered shakily. “Doctor, look, it’s blood!” He sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

“Abram, calm down.”

Abram ignored the doctor and went into Amira’s bathroom, coming out with a bowl of cool water. He sat on the bed and held her head in his hands wiping her face with the towel. Her breathing was irregular. It made a disturbing rattling sound. While he wiped her face, he noticed that her palms, abdomen and torso were stained with glistening red drops.

The doctor followed his eyes and saw it as well. He took her palm in his with one hand, digging into his bag with the other. He brought out cotton gauze and used it to wipe her palms. Though he maintained a calm disposition, his heart ached. He opened his mouth to say something to Abram, then decided against it and instead reached out to wipe Amira’s brow with the gauze.

Amira groaned softly, writhing feebly in her father’s arms. “Amira! Baby, I’m here. Please, wake up.” Abram held her close to his chest, wincing at the heat radiating from her body.

He turned to the doctor, “Doctor, she’s burning up.” The doctor stayed where he was, crouched, digging in his bag for something. His seemingly unruffled manner was beginning to annoy Abram.

“Abram-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! She’s obviously in pain, she’s burning up, there’s blood all over her body, and you’re telling me to calm down?” Abram said bitterly.

The doctor paused, looking at Abram sympathetically. “I’m sorry. I’m only trying to say that it’s no use getting agitated or worked up.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t help matters.”

Abram stared at the doctor for a moment, then looked away and held Amira closer against his chest, rocking her back and forth.

He laid her gently on the bed and rose as the doctor brought out a sphygmomanometer and gently wrapped it around her arm. After he took her blood pressure, he put the ear pieces of the stethoscope in his ears and pressed the fingertips of his other hand on the skin in an attempt to find the pulse.

Abram stood apprehensively beside him. The doctor glanced at him, “She has an increased diastolic blood pressure with narrowed pulse pressure. But there is nothing to worry about yet.”

Abram, not understanding a word of what the doctor had said, asked, “But what’s wrong?”

The doctor packed his diagnostic equipment. “It seems like a hypovolemic shock to me. We need to immediately put her on IV feeding.”

Abram stared blankly at the doctor, bewildered.

The doctor avoided Abram’s eyes, zipping his bag close. “When shocks like these occur, vasoconstriction ensues resulting in reduced supply of blood to the periphery. The IV fluid replaces the loss of blood volume in the body. It will stabilise her.”

“Was that really blood on her body? She was sweating blood?”

The doctor sighed. “Look, extreme emotional stress can cause blood vessels to spontaneously rupture. I can assure you there is nothing to worry about as of now. Such conditions are usually self-limiting.”

Abram struggled to follow what the doctor was telling him. Most of it sounded obscure and he had a feeling that it was intentional on the doctor’s part. He felt there was something the doctor was concealing from him. What is he not telling me and, more importantly, why is he keeping it from me?

“Look at her,” The doctor pointed towards Amira whose breathing had stabilised, “She exhibits classic symptoms of emotional stress. Her body is secreting more fluid.” The doctor bent over Amira, wiped her palm with a finger and showed the fluid on it to Abram. “If you look at this closely, you will see that it is too diluted to be blood. It is just a blood-tinged bodily secretion.”

Abram sighed. “How long will it take for her to fully recover?”

“Maybe a few hours or a day at most, if her condition stabilises. The IV equipment at the hospital is too antiquated. You will need to get supplies from the town as soon as possible.”

Abram gritted his teeth in frustration. “Isn’t that too old-fashioned a way?”

Behind them, Amira whimpered. It sounded as if she was saying something. Both men froze, listening.

“Doctor...” Amira whispered softly.

Abram’s eyes lit up and he moved to sit on the bed again, but the doctor grabbed him by the elbow. “Let me check her first.”

Abram nodded and stood aside. He was satisfied to just watch her, glad that she was awake and speaking rationally. It gave him hope. Perhaps, she will truly get better soon. Suddenly, it occurred to him that she must be thirsty after the loss of fluid from her body. He left the room to get her some water.

The doctor crouched on the ground next to the bed and studied her closely, taking time to observe her eyes for any signs of suppressed mania. Her eyelids fluttered close again.

“Is she all right?” Abram returned with a jug of water.

The doctor nodded. “She’s fine.” He smiled at her, patting her face gently. “Right, Amira?”

Just then, he saw her eyes moving rapidly behind her eyelids as if she was dreaming. Observing it too, Abram asked, “Did she go back to sleep?”

Before the doctor could reply, Amira suddenly took a deep breath, her eyes flying open. She looked up at the doctor and her father.

“Doctor, I want to tell you something.” she whispered, weakly stretching her hand towards him. Abram frowned.

“Yes, sweetheart?” The doctor replied.

“Please… come closer.” Talking alone appeared to consume almost all Amira’s energy.

The doctor obliged, leaning down. Their eyes met. He saw a flash of rage pass through her tranquil eyes. Flinching, he contemplated leaning away from her, but decided not to. He drew in a long breath, pulling himself together. “Yes?”

He turned his head to the side, inclining it so his ear was directly over her mouth, so he could hear her well. Amira took a few deep breaths, blowing warm air directly on the doctor’s ear. The doctor squirmed internally. She whispered something hoarsely. The doctor strained his ears, trying to decipher the words. It didn’t sound like human speech; it was more like a soft noise.

Suddenly, the doctor felt a sharp pain. At first, he didn’t realise what was happening. The room was silent for a second. Then, the doctor’s eyes slid sideways and caught a glimpse of the upper part of his ear gripped tightly between Amira’s teeth. He let out an agonising scream that reverberated through the room.

Startled, Abram ran to his side.

Everything happened so quickly, making it difficult for Abram to follow. Amira clamped down on the doctor’s cartilage in her mouth, sinking her teeth deeply. The doctor cried out again. He felt the pain shoot from his ear throughout his whole face.

“Amira!” Abram screamed. “Amira, stop!”

The doctor kept screaming, his head twitching as he tried to pull away from her without tearing his ear. Amira jerked her head from side to side, like she was biting through a piece of meat, forcing her teeth deeper into the wound. Blood flowed out in earnest, covering Amira’s teeth and lips. Abram wanted to yell at her again to stop, but was rendered speechless. The whole situation was the most grotesque thing he’d ever seen, yet he couldn’t look away. The horror and revulsion coursing through his body kept him standing there and staring, rooted to the spot.

Amira sat up, clenching her teeth tighter around the doctor’s ear till her teeth pierced clean through it, coming out on the other side. The doctor howled, tears streaming down his face.

Abram winced. “Amira, please…”

Amira stopped for a moment, looking up at her father. She panted heavily, her hair hanging down in matted clumps. When her eyes met his, her lips widened in a gruesome bloodstained smile. Abram shuddered. With her eyes still focused on Abram, she released the pressure of her teeth on the ear, as if she was about to let go. The doctor, noticing that, writhed, trying again to get free.

“That’s it baby, let him go,” Abram whispered.

Amira made a low cackling sound. She released the piece of flesh she had between her teeth, but before Abram could blink, she took another bite from a different portion of the ear.

Abram gasped, putting his palm over his mouth.

The doctor screamed again, his body beginning to tremble. He seemed as if the energy had been drained out of him. The veins on his head bulged, his face turning red. He lifted his right arm and swung it towards Amira, trying to swat her away and dislodge her teeth from his ear. But she was so sturdy, it was like trying to hit a rock.

Finally, Amira let go of his ear, latching on to his clothes. Immediately, the doctor pushed her away, but she reached out and clawed the side of his face with her fingernails, drawing blood. The doctor threw his arms around, frantically trying to stop her from attacking him. “Leave me! Stop!” he cried.

Amira snarled at him, her teeth still stained blood red. She stretched her hand out again to claw at him repeatedly, scratching all over his body. Her fingers tore through the flimsy fabric of his shirt, giving her access to his chest. She repeatedly scratched at it till she tore the flesh.

She paused, heaving. Her palms were smeared with blood from all the lacerations she had made on the doctor’s skin. The doctor collapsed on the floor, but this didn’t deter Amira. She crouched next to him, viciously clawing at his entire body. The doctor lay motionless on the ground. His tattered shirt was soaked in blood and sweat.

Abram watched the brutal attack, horrified. He was transfixed; his fear and shock had paralysed him. He would never have thought his daughter was capable of such brutish behaviour, yet he saw it played out right before his eyes. This bestial girl is not my daughter. There’s something amiss. This is not my Amira. That thought was what brought him back to his senses. She’s also a victim, he realised. His instincts finally kicked in. He ran to her and grabbed her left arm with his right, pulling her away from the doctor. She screamed and tried to jerk her arm away, but Abram held on tightly. With his left hand he attempted to free the doctor from her vice-like grip.

“Amira, leave him alone!” He yanked on her arm, pulling her backwards till he succeeded in prying her off the doctor. As if on cue, she went limp in his hands. He carried her back to the bed and set her on it. As he stepped back, he noticed that she had a piece of the doctor’s ear in her mouth.

“Amira! Spit it out right now!”

She sat quietly and stared up at him with a blank expression on her face. Abram felt a chill run down his spine.

The doctor groaned on the floor, drawing Abram’s attention. He quickly went over to kneel down next to him. “Doctor, I am so sorry, I–”

The doctor held up a palm, cutting him off. Struggling to sit up, he managed to whisper something. His left ear dripped blood onto the floor. It was mangled and nearly unrecognisable. He leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to endure the pain that shot through him from every direction.

Abram ran to fetch a towel. He pressed the towel onto the mangled ear of the doctor to stanch the bleeding. The doctor gritted his teeth against the pain, holding on tightly to Abram’s arm. He took the now bloody towel from Abram’s hand and held it to his ear.

Abram’s gaze shifted to Amira who was still sitting quietly on the bed, watching them intently. Somehow, her sudden tranquillity terrified him more than her savage attack. She smirked, and Abram got the distinct feeling that she sadistically enjoyed the doctor’s suffering and his groans of agony. The detached piece of the doctor’s ear was still in her mouth and she rolled it around slowly, watching Abram’s face. She swallowed the residual blood on the piece of ear, smacking her lips.

Abram gagged.

Seemingly enjoying the way the cartilage folded under her tongue, she kept playing around with it in her mouth for a while, letting parts of it dangle on the outside. Then, with a slurp, she pulled the doctor’s flesh into her mouth and started chewing on it. She closed her eyes as if savouring the piece of ear, chomping on it with her mouth open and making wet munching noises which echoed through the room.

Abram was overwhelmed with a wave of nausea, running to the toilet to puke his guts out. The doctor merely narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head, the napkin still pressed firmly to his now mutilated ear.

* * *

Doctor Trivedi sat on a stool and buried his head in his hands. His head was swimming. It felt like a big ball of throbbing, excruciating pain. He held his thinning hair in fistfuls and squeezed his eyes shut, doing his best to endure the pain without crying out. Aside from the debilitating pain he was feeling, his heart was pounding viciously in his chest. He had never before, in his over thirty years of practising medicine, felt the level of terror he was currently feeling concerning a patient.

He groaned and lifted his head from his hands. It felt like there were millions of tiny insects crawling within and around his head. He shook his head vigorously but the sensation remained. With mounting anxiety, he realized his temperature was elevated and that he was sweating. Stress-induced fever, he thought and sighed.

Stretching his hands in front of him, he examined them. His palms were caked in dry blood–his own blood–serving as proof that the horrendous incident had truly happened a few minutes ago and it wasn’t just in his head. What had happened was so monstrous and terrifying that in his memory, it had already begun to appear surreal to him, despite the fact that he could still feel the pain. The sharp ache in his left ear was starting to subside, though; the aspirin Abram had given him was taking effect.

He exhaled sharply. All the stress he had been experiencing for the past few days, especially the one he experienced here today was finally catching up to him. He felt like curling into a ball and weeping. He put his head back in his hands and shivered as a few teardrops rolled down his face. His fingers trembled and they alternated between clutching his hair tightly and letting go. He hadn’t fully processed what had just happened to him. Sitting there, he remembered the encounter in flashes–his ear in her mouth, the way she ceaselessly clawed at him, the blood-soaked napkin. He shook his head, pushing the horrifying thoughts to the back of his mind.

The shock, however, was more difficult to shake. No matter how hard he tried to block it, he still felt the jolt of that initial sharp pain in his ear, still felt the jarring revulsion of vividly seeing his ear lodged firmly between Amira’s teeth. The sickening sound of her messily chewing on his ear refused to stop repeating itself in his head. From his experience dealing with patients who had gone through trauma, he knew that these intrusive thoughts might not go away for a long time. How did everything get to this point? I just wanted to help a sick little girl.

A light breeze blew across the white curtains, swaying and rippling them softly, making them look like ghosts… No, he thought. He would not let his mind go there. He had had enough of the supernatural realm today.

After the incident, he had quickly removed his first-aid kit from his bag and gone to the bathroom to clean his wounds. He had carefully wiped down his mangled ear as well as the lacerations on his body with antiseptics, placing gauze over the wounds to slow the bleeding and keep them from getting infected. After that, he had called out to Abram to get him a cool compress to help with the pain. He placed the cool compress over his ear and occasionally his chest but had set it down when the after-shocks of the incident overwhelmed him. Picking it back up, he gently pressed it to his ear again.

Though he administered first-aid to himself carefully and appropriately, he knew his wounds, especially the one in his ear, needed more medical attention urgently. He should have rushed to Nagpur district hospital and gotten the severe tears in his ear closed up with sutures, but he was too emotionally distraught and physically weak to do so. He decided that later, he would cover the ear wound with a bandage and postponed the trip to Nagpur to the next day.

The curtain swayed again. This time, he heard a faint voice. ‘Daddy… save me’. His daughter’s voice. He swallowed hard. The day when she had uttered those words were crystal clear in his mind. Now her words were replaying in his head. ‘Save me… Save me… Daddy, save me’. The doctor shook his head vehemently to clear it. The sound persisted, the words continuing to resonate in his mind. He felt haunted, not by those words, but by his failure to save Amira, to rescue her from the agonizing affliction that was slowly killing her. His frustration at his inability to pull her away from the jaws of pain, to end this hellish experience for her parents, was what ate at him and threatened to consume his entire being.

He got up from the stool and braved the mirror with a hand over his injured ear. His face was torn in several places, but with all the blood cleaned off, it didn’t look as terrible as he thought it would, and definitely not as terrible as it felt. Taking a deep breath, he lowered the gauze concealing his ear and tilted his head to look at it, taking off the gauze he had covered it with. He gasped. His ear looked like it had been mauled by a wild animal. It had been transformed into an unrecognizable blob of dark bruises and torn flesh. The skin covering the pulse point beside the ear had been completely ripped off, making the area look like a red pulsating string of muscle. The sight made him gag. He heaved, dry retching over the toilet. Wiping his mouth and straightening himself, he took one final look at the mirror.

The image of the face of a girl flickered at the top left corner but when he lifted his eyes to look at it, it disappeared. He frowned. He could’ve sworn that he saw the image of a little girl there. His heart started hammering against his chest. Truthfully, he had recently started to see things that weren’t there–a symptom he had shrugged off and chalked up to old age–but the image of the girl had looked too vivid to be a mere hallucination. He turned back to see if Amira had somehow sneaked in past the closed door, but the door remained firmly shut and Amira was nowhere in sight. He took a deep breath, then wiped his eyes with his hand and mustered the courage to look into the mirror again.

Almost as though they were summoned, several images popped up in the mirror. Doctor Trivedi’s mouth gaped open. At the centre of the mirror, there were images that were grouped together like a photo album while, around the edges, the images were scattered. He couldn’t even see his own reflection anymore, or the reflection of everything else around him. Most of the images looked blurry, except one, which stood out crisp and clear. It was a picture of a large family standing close together, looking ahead with a blank robotic stare. It was a couple, surrounded by six children. In a way it felt to Doctor Trivedi like they were staring into his soul. His eyes fell on the couple. Due to his failing eyesight, he had to squint to make out their faces. With a jolt, he recognized his own face. The man was a much younger version of him. And the woman beside him was… his late wife. She looked even younger than he did in the photo, like a girl in her teenage years. In the picture, he was holding her by the waist and both of them were smiling a little. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he impatiently blinked them away. How is this possible?

A chill ran down his spine. The picture was alluring, even in its eeriness. So many questions came up in his mind but he couldn’t figure out the answer to any of them. All the six children were girls, and they looked extremely alike. It was uncanny. He scanned the face of every single girl in the picture over and over again looking for his daughter but she was nowhere to be seen. He lowered his head and shut his eyes tightly, deciding that he had seen enough. He cast around blindly for a towel and when he found one, used it to wipe the mirror. Then he opened his eyes.

Unfortunately, the towel he had used to wipe the mirror was the blood-soaked, and it left streaks of blood trailing down the mirror. The doctor’s eyes widened. Even worse, the images hadn’t disappeared. Rather, the faces of the children filled the mirror, overshadowing every other image. Catching a glimpse of one of the girls, he realized it was Amira. A trail of blood on the mirror was sliding down the image of her face. She and the other girls had the same scowl plastered across their faces. At that moment, it was all he could not to scream out loud. His stomach churned. The temperature in the room seemed to drop by a few degrees all of a sudden, making him shiver.

Above him, the light flickered, making a crackling sound. He remembered what Abram had told him about the electricity of the house being faulty due to old age. A fetid odour began to diffuse through the room. It smelled strongly like faeces and some other distinct odour he couldn’t quite place a finger on. Gradually, the smell permeated the entire room, making the air feel humid and sticky. His breathing became laboured and he began to feel light-headed. The stench was so powerful that his eyes watered and he felt dizzy. The room swam around in his vision, making it difficult for him to find his footing. Bending over, he violently vomited all over the floor. He stood up straight and managed to pick his way over the vomit to the faucet. He frantically turned the handle this way and that, trying to get it to turn on. There was no water. He pounded his fist on the sink, cursing loudly.

A scream ripped through the silence, startling the doctor so much that he almost slipped in his own vomit. It sounded like Vedika’s voice. He frowned, confused. But… She was unconscious. With serious head injuries, how could she have woken up on her own? His hands and face still smeared with blood and vomit, he scrambled towards the door, feeling an intense urge to get out as fast as he could. Just as he was about to remove his hands from the sink, he felt a warm and thick liquid flow down his hands. He tried to jerk them away but he couldn’t. It felt like an invisible force was keeping them under the faucet. His first instinct was to scream but he bit down on it and swallowed hard. The faucet kept insouciantly and consistently pouring out the slightly viscous, bright red blood. He tried to manoeuvre his hand out of the sink, tilting it in several angles, but he had no luck. Some of the blood slowly slid down the drain of the sink, while others thickened at the bottom.

Right then, another sensation took his attention away from the blood coagulating in the sink. Something pulled on his hands, tugging him backwards, away from the sink. As he turned the upper half of his body to look behind him and see what it was, several unseen hands grabbed at his arms and hands, pulling him backwards towards them as if trying to break the force that held him to the sink. It felt like dozens of tiny palms grabbing on to any part of skin they could hold and pulling strongly on it, some even squeezing his fingers, yet, he couldn’t see them. Vedika’s screaming abruptly stopped and there was a moment of silence. Then, he started hearing whispers arising from behind him. Gradually, the susurration amplified, filling his ears. It sounded like thousands and thousands of people with tiny voices were whispering all at once. The sound spread to all corners of the room, closing in on him as the little hands kept tugging and pulling. He felt like his body was about to be ripped in half. At the exact moment when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the force holding him to the sink let go and he fell backward into the vomit, his head and back painfully hitting the floor. The whisper grew silent.

The doctor groaned and struggled to his feet, squirming against the revolting liquid on the floor, but careful not to slip and fall again. He massaged the back of his head, noticing that his ear had started bleeding profusely again. Stretching out a leg, he tried to kick open the door with his foot, channelling all the strength he had left. Then the curiousest thing happened. The door pushed back against his leg with more force than he had applied, sending him flying backwards, banging his head on the metal sink. He felt a trickle of warm blood on his forehead. Cursing under his breath, he used his palm to apply pressure on the area.

Just then the door slammed open. Vedika stood wide-eyed in the doorway. “Doctor, Abram said–” She trailed off mid-sentence as her mouth fell open. She looked around, moving her eyes from the vomit mingled with blood on the floor to the blood-soaked towel at the edge of the sink to the dried blood on the mirror. She screamed when she saw the doctor, blood soaking through his grey hair and smeared all over his face and hands, his beard stained with vomit. She covered her gaping mouth with both palms. “What happened here?”

The doctor twisted his body until he was standing upright and balanced properly. As he did so, he turned his mangled ear towards Amira. When she saw it, she screamed again and pointed at it, speechless.

The doctor sighed. “Vedika, how are you awake? How’s your head feeling?”

Before she could reply, a sound disrupted the silence, making both of them jump. It was a rhythmic sound, like metal hitting metal with brief intervals in between.

Clank. Clank. Clank. Clank.

The doctor’s brow furrowed. The sound drew closer, then abruptly stopped.

Vedika saw her first. “Amira, darling, were you the one making that sound?” Amira ignored her and walked into the bathroom. She stood in the centre of the room, her bloodshot eyes shiny as she looked around. When her eyes fell on the mirror, her face broke into a sinister grin.

“So you’ve met him!”

* * *

Even though alarm bells blared in her head, Vedika considered calling Bhuva. She hoped that in some way, he would be able to help Amira.

Everything about that man seemed strange. Aarti urged her to meet him. She firmly believed that Amira was being held victim to an unknown curse. At one point, out of desperation, Vedika came to believe Aarti’s speculations, but she came to her senses and quickly gave up the thought.

What was she thinking? She asked herself. She was falling for all the antediluvian talk about witches and devils. When had she become so naïve? But Amira’s worsening condition distracted her and she finally decided that maybe Aarti was right. She decided to meet Bhuva once thinking that it could not hurt to do so and that at the very least, it would give her the chance to get rid of her fears and assuage her anxiety.

On the day she was to meet Bhuva, she asked Aarti to look after Amira and carefully instructed her to tell Abram that she was headed to the market.

The trip to Bhuva’s house was nothing but a repressive experience. “She had been so reckless,” she thought and chided herself as her mind leaped from one superstitious, and grim conclusion to the next.

The village was very quiet that morning. Very few children wandered on the streets and were immersed in their games. Many in the village were still in bed having a late morning snooze. Vedika had her face covered with a black veil. She walked down the main road, trying not to attract the attention of people in the streets. She took a deep breath and clutched her veil tighter as she walked. Any time someone glanced at her, she immediately averted her gaze and studied the ground intently.

Vedika tightened her headscarf and wrapped her veil around her face as much as she could without affecting her vision. She found herself frequently slowing down to take a closer look at her surroundings. She noted landmarks and tried to remember the trees as she passed them. She wasn’t sure if she was doing so because she was curious and did not want to get lost or if she was subconsciously trying to delay her trip. She was afraid of what she would find at Bhuva’s house.

Vedika was too frightened to ask anyone for assistance and directions so she just glanced furtively around as she kept walking. Her heart was beating erratically in her chest as she kept telling herself that she was doing the right thing for Amira. Something inside her told her that she would learn the truth of her daughter’s condition or something very close to the truth at her destination. She hoped she would be ready for it but she knew she was not prepared.

Vedika walked further and was suddenly tired so she stopped to catch her breath and then sat down beside a tree stump on the corner of the street where no one approaching could see her. She wiped the sweat from her brow and leaned back on the stump. She closed her eyes for what felt like a second and as soon as she did, she jumped up again in panic.

Vedika looked up and realised that she could not even see the main road from where she was. Her heart began to pound as she tried to adjust her eyes to the light while racking her brain to figure out where she was.

Then she spotted the house. It looked exactly like Aarti had described it. The house had a slanted roof and one could see that it was previously painted blue although the paint was peeling off and the wooden windows were broken in some places. The house looked deserted and was partially surrounded by what seemed to be a fence. She could see animal droppings and muddy soil. A cow grazed near the fence and a dog wandered outside the house. Vedika had a strange feeling, she felt like the animals were glaring at her with a sort of awareness. It was as if they were questioning her presence.

Vedika breathed in deeply, held her breath, and walked into the muck of sand. The smell of cattle and urine filled her nostrils. She stepped onto the house’s front yard, where patches of outgrown weeds grew in the cracks in the pavement. She suspected the house had been neglected and left to go into a state of disrepair for a long time because the weeds were tall. She shut her eyes for a few seconds, and then slammed her knuckles on the fragile door twice.

Bhuva answered the door. He was heavily built with a white beard. He wore a white knee-length kaftan with a black dhoti. He had a shawl around his neck which was coming undone. The shawl exposed a square- framed red-eye amulet he wore as a pendant on a necklace. Vedika took her eyes off him to peer into the house. Candles were lit in practically every spot her eyes could see. Bhuva gently fixed his shawl and turned around to lead Vedika in, his demeanour indicating as if he had been expecting her.

Chills raced down Vedika’s spine as she followed him inside. She could see all sorts of trinkets and blankets that were placed on the floor. Three pristine human skulls were placed in the corner surrounded by five candles. Two pillows and two blankets were laid out on the floor just in front of her. The candles flickered in the darkness as she looked around fearfully. There were many necklaces on several hooks and each necklace had a tooth hanging from it. She saw tufts of human hair in odd places. The hair was all dark and individually arranged into different sections – possibly belonging to different people. Disturbing paintings hung on the wall.

Vedika’s eyes widened and she gasped when she saw that a large mural on the wall art depicted a sheep, with blood on its wool and mouth, feasting on a child.

Bhuva led her to a corner of the room with candles and a mattress. He then turned to stand before her. His dreadlocks hung down his face which was caked with mud and covered a part of it.

“Please sit,” Bhuva said as he motioned to the mattress. “I see that science is not helping you much.”

Vedika’s mouth hung open, she had not even said anything about her daughter. She considered him carefully. “What makes you assume that?”

“Pain is a peculiar phenomenon. It makes you feel an unexpected urge within yourself, a sudden rage perhaps where you want to punch anything and everything, and it drips from the vengeance, anger and joy in your eyes.”

Vedika considered him carefully. Everything about the man was unusual, even bizarre.

Bhuva’s constantly staring at nothing persona baffled her. She was afraid of him but she was also desperate to find a solution to her daughter’s incessant blackouts and an end to the mysterious illness that plagued her.

She nodded her head.

“Please sit,” Bhuva said as he motioned to a low wooden table with cushions encircling it, they were set in the middle of a cramped room that probably doubled as a meeting room – or a place to perform quirky rituals. It wasn’t clear. Multi-coloured tapestries decorated every wall with disturbing art.

“Do you believe in God’s abnormalities?”

“I am not the superstitious type, but I do know one thing. No one seems to know or understand what’s going on with my daughter.”

Bhuva stared at the mural behind her for a few minutes before he looked into her eyes and said calmly, “As weird as it may sound I have no formal training in spiritual warfare yet I have spent my entire life investigating the unknown-”

“I admire your enthusiasm for strange beliefs and occurrences-”

“Call it a gift. Since I was a child I can see something lurking in shadows, hearing voices that do not exist. At the age of five I saw something lurking in my room, and I knew that it wasn’t human,” Bhuva paused to take a breath, “I spent two decades with aghoris watching them talking to whispering voices that appears only in one’s head.”

““Do you sincerely believe in ghosts, demons?”

Bhuva sat with his hands clasped in front, deep in thought and a kind of meditative state, “I have dealt with cases where people thought they were possessed by some vile entity. Those cases were the easiest to identify and find a solution, because at their heart they were people in distress. Helping them came naturally and usually some kind words, prayer and just knowing someone cared about them was enough to redirect that spiritual pain back towards the path of God and allow those suffering to centre themselves. So yes, I do believe in another realm, a dark one.”

“What are the signs of a possessed person?”

“See, the idea of demonic possession is very vague. Most of the time what people assume to be a demonic attack, in the end, it turns out to be some sort of mental illness. I have studied mental illnesses quite closely with the help of our mutual friend, Dr. Trivedi.”

“I thought you disliked him-”

“No,” Bhuva nodded his head. “We interacted a lot though we maintained a distance from each other. The villagers are not the people you want to mess with. The superstitious demon rules their mind. You see, the people here are the type to obey.”

“So you must know about my daughter’s condition.”

“The symptoms your daughter is experiencing point to something, not of this realm.”

What is he trying to tell me? Vedika thought as she bit on her thumbnail. She was trying to process the cryptic words spoken by this strange man.

“See. Every day we experience a demon in the form of temptation. He loves to seize the control of our mind. In order to experience a demon, one has to form some kind of relationship with him. It’s just like forming a relationship with God by worshipping him.”

“You think my daughter formed some sort of relationship with evil?” Vedika’s eyes widened in disbelief, “All this sound like garbage.”

“Such things don’t happen consciously. Children are open-minded. They are emotionally vulnerable, and that is advantageous for a lurking spirit because it uses fear to manipulate the psyche.”

Vedika watched the beam of candlelight glowing in the dark room eerily. She ran the conversation with Bhuva through her head, She suspected he was deliberately missing some thing he knew. She was doing her utmost to act as if she wasn’t interested in what he said, but in reality, she was petrified.

Bhuva sighed.

“In my life I have never come face to face with a demon. It takes nerves to meet one. If a person encounters a demon he would be tempted to throw himself in a fire or he would see things floating in the air or find himself shaking like a leaf for no reason. His dreams would appear too disturbing and real like killing oneself or family members.”

Vedika’s heart began to race as she thought of her daughter.

“What makes you assume that there is something sinister lurking in my house?”

“The house that you live in has been a witness to the madness of people who toyed with forces they did not understand.”

Bhuva and Vedika shared an awkward look as she cleared her throat and asked, “What kind of forces?”

“Do you know that there have been three attempts to burn that house, that you call home, in the past? And each time, the people who were involved in the burning died mysteriously after the burning. The house itself remained miraculously intact though I suspect everything inside is rotten.”

Vedika stared at him in disbelief. Surely Abram would have known.

“How can a demon - as you call it - influence a physical being?”

“The mere presence of a demon is enough to suffocate a person. A person is made to feel worthless, so much so that he begins to question his faith. You see sometimes a curse is placed on the object, and it stays with it forever. In your case, the house seems to be cursed.”

Although he was mostly covered up, Vedika could see he was tattooed from head to toe. She found herself distracted by his body art, and quickly turned her sight from his body back to her surroundings when their eyes met.

“I don’t believe in ghosts,” she said defiantly.

“A demon and ghost are not the same thing,” Bhuva nodded his head, “you have to look beyond your thinly veiled prejudice-”

“Why her?” Vedika’s voice pitched high.

“Without understanding the malevolent it will be difficult to protect your daughter,” Bhuva continued with a faraway look in his eyes as if he was seeing beyond the house, “The human mind is an enigma. It feeds on thoughts, but unwholesome thoughts make the mind irritable. That is why our mind sometimes rebels when we think about giving in to the pain that comes with life. It is not the pain and loss we fear, it is what comes after, it is the unknown we cannot bear.”

Vedika found Bhuva’s senseless babble disquieting. Nonetheless she kept quiet.

“Are you still pretending to be fine when you so obviously are not?”

Vedika was jolted out of her thoughts by his accurate observation. Everything has just been overwhelming lately, she had been getting increasingly lost in thoughts as each day passed. “Umm…No…I …why? Of course, I am fine. I was thinking about my daughter.”, Vedika mumbled in a pleading voice as she stared intently at the ground to avoid making eye contact with Bhuva. The temptation to confide in him became harder to resist with every look that they shared.“If there is a devil, there must be god too.”

Bhuva paused. His breathing became laboured and weak as if he relived some traumatic experience in his mind, “You know, there are only two auras in the other realm. One is white and the other is black. Good people have a white aura, soft energy around them. But the dark aura? It is completely different. It will cause one to feel terrible emotions that threaten to suck one’s life out without the victim realizing what is happening to them.”

Vedika stared at him, hoping he would perform some miracle that would make her pain go away.

“Tell me about your daughter.”

“I just don’t really know where to start with all this.“

“Tell me whatever comes to your mind. Do you think I don’t already know you?”

“She was a sweet beautiful daughter until ravaged by an uncontrollable disease,” Vedika’s voice became heavy as she resisted a sharp wail, “She is more than any parent deserves. Her smile and boundless energy brought so much joy, but..she’s very sick. It … she ...I just don’t know what to do. Please save her. She’s so young, she doesn’t deserve this. Just...please.”

Bhuva stared at her thoughtfully.

Vedika took a deep breath, recomposed herself and looked at him, with a strange glint of determination in her eyes . “If you are talking about the devil, I know and believe that devils exist in some form in every human’s mind. They might be lurking in you too, in some form of temptation or your unwholesome thoughts and desires.” Vedika put on a brave face and said strongly to Bhuva, ” I did not come here for a spiritual lesson. I came here to find a cure for my daughter’s illness. I was thinking that if medicines work then so can prayers. That is what you do, is it not?”

“I understand how you feel right now. You will need the faith that can move mountains. It isn’t easy when the mind becomes infested with thoughts that rip you apart. We are dealing with something which is difficult to fight because it knows the weak spot in your psyche.”

This was becoming too much for Vedika.

“She is fighting for breath…” Her voice was filled with tears, “and for her life. She responded well to early treatment, but it’s like the disease has a grudge against her.”

“It’s not a disease. The residual energy that you are experiencing is extremely powerful. Your family has something to do with the present turmoil your daughter is going through.” Bhuva said in a morose tone. He wished she could see what he saw.

Family? Vedika thought as she stared at him in bewilderment.

“The dead are spewing toxic waste on your daughter’s soul. A generation in your family loved to meddle with the dark forces beyond their grasp and knowledge. The malignant intent bred malignant results, and your family seems to be the chosen recipient of the dead’s ambitions.” Something now glimmered in Bhuva’s eyes. Vedika couldn’t quite catch it, but it felt… strange.

“As far as I know my family is religious, but not superstitious.”

“A power over someone’s mind is addictive. It could impair the thought-”

“You mentioned an attempt to burn the house?”

“It is said that the family who built it was the first recipient of its wrath. The villagers have always despised it. No one goes near it. Last I know, a young boy died mysteriously in the compound of your house, and the villagers had reacted furiously. According to legend, the house is infectious one way or the other. The villagers want to see it dead so they attempted to burn the house. That was a long time ago. The story has been passed over a generation. I don’t know how much of it is true.” Bhuva stood up, recomposed himself and paced his way back to the table with a wooden box. He opened it carefully and tapped his fingers together as his eyes skirted through its contents.

Vedika looked at him questioningly.

“What? Oh. I’m feeding my cats before we can talk. They haven’t had anything since this morning.”

Vedika looked around to see if she had missed the animals. Ice blue eyes appeared before a black tapestry on one of the walls. An odd shadow with eyes finally morphed into a black cat as it scampered away from the similarly coloured background.

Bhuva tapped the side of the cat bowl and took a position opposite Vedika.

“It is said that on one full moon night, madness took over the minds of villagers who marched with torches in their hands. They marched in fury, with scowls on their faces, howling “burn the house!” The house howled too. The closer they got, the louder it became.”

“Why her?” Vedika cried, she was very desperate for solutions and answers.

“The evil always attacks our primitive emotions. Children are naturally curious and highly vulnerable. They are quick to acknowledge unknown beings and allow the demon to enter their reality, and when that happens it becomes the demon’s reality.”

Vedika stared at him, then broke into sobs.

“We must protect her, but first we must get rid of doubt and insecurity. We need to have complete faith in whatever we do. We must trust him.” Bhuva pointed his head upwards. He closed his eyes as if praying silently.

“After everything that has happened it is difficult to have faith in god. The more faith I put in him, the more depressed and alienated I become. I know I am supposed to trust him, but something inside me has become bitter and broken-”

“You know I save lives of people. And yet often I have faced a difficult choice, and one that, no matter what I decide, I always end up questioning. Some experiences might be painful but they are the catalysts that enable us to change and grow. We must never lose our faith.”

“What makes you think my daughter is possessed?”

Before she could speak again, Bhuva spread a pack of cards on the table. Each one had a strange image painted on it. “Pick three,” he said.

Vedika felt more perplexed than excited. She imagined this going in an entirely different direction – a tarot reading? She felt stupid and weirdly betrayed.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Vedika asked sarcastically.

“You and I know that science is not helping you much.” Bhuva’s voice had a note of authority.

Hesitantly, Vedika drew three cards from the pack and placed them on the table.

The cards spelt out 666.

Bhuva had a very serious facial expression.

“Well? 666? Is this supposed to prove something?”

Bhuva collected the cards. He spread the cards, face up, on the table, cocked his head and said, “There is no card with the number 6 in the pack.”

Vedika’s eyes widened in bewilderment. With quivering lips, she checked the cards again and it was as Bhuva said. There was no sign of the number 6 anywhere on the cards.

Bhuva was right!

Vedika began to freak out as she stammered, “ But… I just…right now…there was… oh my God, what is happening to me? What does all this mean?”

Bhuva tried to comfort her. “You see, the demon loves to make his presence felt. He is a trickster who loves to play tricks on the mind.” His voice was thoughtful.

Vedika was intrigued by what Bhuva said but she was not too sure whether or not she believed him just yet. The only thing that kept her going was her complete desperation to cure Amira. “All this sounds so ridiculous,” she muttered.

“Let me show you our enemy. Drink this.”

Bhuva said as he pushed a glass of water towards her and motioned her to drink.

Vedika hesitated. It was very possible that he was a scammer, but the uncanny experience she had a few moments ago made him seem authentic to her. The house she resided in was a dark one. She had no doubts about it now. She decided to put her faith in Bhuva. ’What’s the worst thing that could happen?’ she thought to herself.

She picked up the glass he gave her and gulped down a mouthful. As soon as she tasted it, she spat it out immediately. The terrible and vile taste of the water made her feel like puking her intestines out and cutting out her tongue.

The candle lights flickered a few times before they went out all at once. The temperature in the room dropped down to freezing cold. Vedika felt a force pulling her down from beneath. She was no longer in Bhuva’s house but she had no idea where she was. Her eyes hurt as if tears were frozen in them and she could not shut them. The darkness enveloped her. As soon as she adjusted to the darkness, she saw Amira’s bloodied body floating in midair.

Vedika clutched a hand to her chest as she saw her daughter. Her hands were splayed around her in a twisted way with palms turned inward and fingers twisted upon one another. Her hollow, empty eye sockets made her face look terrifyingly hideous. She spouted foul words as her body began to spin. Suddenly, she flew towards Vedika.

Vedika screamed as soon as Amira made contact with her. She felt as if a terrible barbed crown of thorns crept up her legs, slicing every nerve within her, and bursting every artery. She gasped for air desperately and clutched at her throat. It seemed like a ball of lead was stuck in her throat. Blood began to ooze from her ears and nose. The pitch black darkness enveloped her again and she began to feel drowsiness pulling her in. She made a desperate attempt to stay awake. Abruptly she pulled her eyes open.

In a moment, everything returned back to normal. If not for the fatigue she felt and the wounds on her body, Vedika would have believed she imagined it all.

“Ami…Amira?” Vedika’s voice reeked of panic. The disgusting metallic taste of lead lingered in her mouth as fear seized her..

“A demon finds it difficult to hide his anger. Your refusal to acknowledge his presence has upset him. What you saw was his way of demanding response from you, an acknowledgement,” Bhuva said knowledgeably.

Vedika was shocked to hear his voice. She had been so focused on her daughter, she did not notice Bhuva.

“My daughter-” Vedika’s voice broke down in despair.

“It is impossible to reason with a demon. He is driven by wrath of hatred and has the capability to make us question our faith. The moment that happens, he takes control of our realm.”

“What was that?” Vedika asked wearily. All these strange happenings were beginning to take a toll on her.

“The reflection of the evil. It thrives on the deliciousness and spontaneity of pain. It uses fear to rend you apart and slide inside you. It becomes frustrated if something makes an effort to contain it. What you just saw was the glimpse of a powerful dark energy that is threatening your family.”

Vedika was creeped out a little but she thought that maybe Bhuva was right.

‘I understand how stressed you are right now, but I’m afraid it’s not possible to find a quick cure for your daughter at this moment.’ Bhuva sighed. “We must hurry though. The barriers within her are slowly crumbling. Whatever it is keeps trying to push itself out. Once the barriers are broken, it’s true self will rise with fury. And it’s fury is blind and dangerous. Trust me, you do not want to see it. I know it is hard to believe but it is much more complicated than I could ever explain.”

“Can’t you see that she is sick?”

“She is sick. It is her mind that is sick. She will hurt herself and others. In her present state she is a danger to everyone else…..and herself.”

Vedika let the words sink in. She didn’t understand how Amira could hurt herself or be a danger when she hadn’t hurt even a fly in her life.

“What makes you think a nine-year-old could be vicious or dangerous?”

“I can see through her at a microscopic level. I can feel her aura. It’s very dark. There is an inescapable darkness in her that can and will suck the life and goodness out of anyone who just attempts to be near her.”

Vedika was totally lost now, having no clue at all of where all this was headed. Once a proud and analytical woman, she found herself limping her way to an unknown fate with Bhuva as her guide

Bhuva’s big eyes became thoughtful. “Her goodness has been left behind and now she is only a shell, just like the skull that sits before you,” Bhuva said. “It is important not to lose our faith. It is the only thing that will keep her alive and salvageable.”

Vedika closed her eyes as her breathing hitched from uncontrolled sobbing. She’d held it all in till she was here. She stayed silent and turned away to face wall paintings. She let the tears flow.

Vedika felt heart broken. She heard Bhuva praying silently behind her. She instinctively felt that the prayers would not be answered for a long time to come.

“Can you help her?” she said as she wiped her tears, faced him and squared her shoulders. She would destroy this force corrupting her princess if it is the last thing she does.

“I can try,” Bhuva replied.

“How?”

“I will see her tonight.”

* * *

Vedika felt diffident after meeting Bhuva. She felt her mind in the grip of nebulous thoughts that threatened her sanity. The walk back home had been an agonising experience, as all the way home, Bhuva’s words echoed in her mind.

Vedika wasn’t a spiritual person, but so profound was the impact of Bhuva’s arguments that now she began to question her beliefs. Was the house really capable of harbouring hatred towards her family, especially her daughter? Was her daughter being punished for sins of earlier generations? Somehow she must have blasphemed the ancient spirits of the house, who had then chosen to take revenge by unleashing their relentless wrath on her innocuous daughter. She shuddered as she struggled to process everything she’d heard.

On getting home, the first thought that occupied Vedika’s mind was to check on her daughter. Now that she knew there was a possibility that her daughter was being poached by the ill intent lurking in and around the house, she felt foolish for leaving her, unprotected and vulnerable in the house. Could it physically assault her?

Vedika rushed up the stairs to her daughter’s room, and heaved a huge sigh of relief when she saw Amira sleeping peacefully.

Leaning against the door frame, her eyes focused on her daughter for a few seconds, the worry melting from her face momentarily. Careful not to wake her up, she tip-toed into Amira’s room and gently adjusted the blankets, planting a kiss on her forehead. She straightened herself again and stared down at her daughter, who now looked so frail. The illness had taken a huge toll on her. Vedika’s heart clenched and her eyes filled with tears as a muffled sob escaped her lips. No mother should ever see her child like this.

Vedika tip-toed again out of the room back to the stairs. She felt completely depleted emotionally; the meeting with Bhuva had bobbled her mind and rendered her ill-equipped to handle the precarious situation at hand.

Dispirited, she dropped down to sit on one of the steps and rested her face in her palms. An overwhelming sadness consumed her and it was all she could do not to break down in tears right then. If this was truly being caused by spirits, why would they target her little daughter?

Vedika dreaded the idea of speaking about this with Abram. He would label her as cynical for even believing in such a thing. How was she even going to put it, ‘I think there’s a possibility that evil spirits are plaguing our daughter?’ He would scornfully dismiss this. She was well aware about his stand on spiritual issues such as these. However, she hoped to convince him to see the position from her point of view. Amira’s worsening condition ensured that Vedika’s survival instincts got the best of her. Admittedly, Bhuva’s eccentric persona made her uneasy, but she was willing to do anything as long as there was a slim chance that it would help her daughter.

Vedika briefly considered doing this behind his back, but she knew she couldn’t. She would feel inundated with guilt if she didn’t tell him. Her stomach tied up in knots. Might as well tell him now, she thought.

Sighing, she pushed herself off the step she was sitting on to go and look for him.

When Vedika found him, Abram was buried behind a pile of paperwork, barely noticing her walk up behind him. The knots in her stomach loosened slightly. Well, she thought, shrugging, ’This is obviously a bad time to bring it up. I’ll tell him later, when he’s settled down.’ She slogged her way to her room. Her mental exhaustion and emotional wreckage caused her to feel physically tired. Barely managing to drag herself to bed, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Vedika stood before a flight of stairs leading down into the basement. Her breath came out hushed and shaky; her eyes, wide. She traced the first few steps on the stairs before the rest of it disappeared into the darkness below.

Run, Vedika. Run, she told herself. Every part of her body screamed for her to beat a hasty retreat. But she could not.

The fragile steps creaked as she descended the first step into the room. The surrounding darkness made the wary bit of imagination in the back of her head more frightening. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and she felt like she was being watched. She peered down into the darkness and was confronted with nothing. Yet, the feeling tarried; it was like a pair of eyes were staring up at her from the bottom of the basement’s stairs. For a moment, when she thought she saw the outline of a figure moving in the darkness, a chill ran down her spine. But the moment passed, and the darkness appeared still again, like the surface of water returning to normalcy after the passing of a ripple. She shook her head as if to clear it.

Vedika reached out into the dark, and ran her fingers over the rough surface of the wall, searching for the plastic switch with urgency.

Found it!

She felt a small break of relief. The darkness was already beginning to get too suffocating. When she flipped it on, the light buzzed and flickered; then stabilised, swallowing the darkness as well as her fears. Now, she could see that the stairs she was descending were in even worse shape than she had made out in the dark. With the help of the pale, yellow light, she gingerly continued descending the unsteady, moth-eaten stairs. She almost lost her footing on one of the steps and would have toppled down the entire flight or off the stairs entirely because there was no railing to hold on to by her right. But she reached out quickly with her left arm, and placed it on the wall closing off the left part of the stairs, thus balancing herself well enough to continue her descent.

Suddenly, just as she was putting her foot on the fifth step, it caved, right in the middle, causing her foot to sink straight through. Her breath quickened. The sound of crashing reverberated through the basement. In normal circumstances, the sound was harsh enough to wake a toddler from sleep, but still nearly negligible. Here, at this moment, it appeared like the boom of thunder on a day with a clear sky.

Vedika cursed under her breath.

She sucked in an air of trepidation through her teeth as she cast her eyes at the foot of the stairs. To her relief, there was nothing there. To avoid getting wounded by the splinters of wood from where her leg had gone through, Vedika took extreme care lifting her leg out from the step. Then she aligned herself along the step, finding a stronger place to stand on. She made sure to test the next steps for sturdiness before letting them bear the brunt of her body weight. The rest of the flight down went without event, and Vedika soon found herself in the basement proper.

Vedika stood there, puzzled. The walls of the basement depicted grotesque images of beasts with long, sharp teeth and claws. Who painted the walls? The sight of them caused a shiver to roll through her body. Vedika imagined coming face to face with one of the creatures on the wall. Those teeth and claws were not bodily features best suited to acts of mercy.

The air was musty. Cobwebs hung in spirals around the room, dropping from the roof, and draped across the walls like tangled curtains. Discernible patches of dust littered the entire place like decorations. The eight-foot-tall beams positioned randomly within the room appeared to be hunched. The concrete had fallen away from them in some places, revealing iron bars which had rusted from years of moisture seeping through the structure. The iron bars looked like long, emaciated limbs of the beams.

Vedika was shocked to find the floor of the basement littered with dried human bones. As she stepped on the bones, their crushing sounds echoed through the basement, chilling her blood. She was now beginning to realise that this place was much bigger than she had previously seen.

Vedika suddenly felt stupid coming here. Granted, before descending the stairs, she had experienced no small level of hesitation. Now, that she had successfully tackled the stairs, stared at grotesque images on the wall, and crushed a carpet of human bones, she no longer felt the necessity that had pushed her through her fears.

Her face became grim with sweat.

There is nothing here; no clue that someone other than me, she thought.

Vedika shook her head and was about to turn back when, through the cobwebs, she caught sight of a faint ray of light peeking out through a slit between the wall and a big wooden cupboard resting against it. She turned her head around, surveying the entire place, and making sure that the monsters engraved on the wall, and the pile of bones were all she needed to fear. Determined not to give the basement the pleasure of feeding on her fear she moved towards the cupboard with measured steps. She tried peering through the slit through which the light shone. After minutes of intense one-eyed staring, Vedika stepped back with a scoff of frustration. She took one more look at the cupboard, and then it occurred to her to attempt to move it. With all her might, she hauled the massive cabinet towards her, paused, and looked at how far she had pulled it. It barely moved an inch. She tried again. This time, it didn’t move at all.

Vedika heaved a sigh. She placed her ear next to the slit and listened intently for several moments, trying to see if she could find something out that way. It took her a while to realise that the sound floating to her ear was that of distant screams. She shrieked and immediately jumped back.

She feared making a sound so she stood fixated where she was.

The screams became louder.

Vedika craned her neck forward. She listened intently, trying to discern the sound and its source. It took her a while to realise that the sound was that of distant screams. Her heart began to pound. She peeked into the far corner.

What Vedika saw caused waves of horror to roll through her entire being. She huddled against the wall and stared in fright. Then she put a hand over her mouth, and whispered:

“Amira!”

Vedika’s voice came out shaky, and her eyes were wide with terror.She found it hard to swallow, and her mouth was as dry as a bone. She must have bit her lip, she could feel it bleeding.

In the faint light, she saw a man drag Amira’s limp body. Her skin was marked by bruises and small cuts. Her feet and lower legs scraped the rough ground. Her head hung low -- face towards the ground -- lolling from side to side with her dark hair cascading in a dishevelled mess.

Suddenly, as if she had just come to life, Amira began to thrash about. She wailed and struggled vehemently as she tried to break free from the man’s tight grip.

The man growled. Then he clenched his hand into a tight fist and gave Amira a violent blow on the head. She went limp instantly.

Patiently, the man laid the unconscious girl in the centre of what looked like an altar. He was unperturbed that it was covered with a heap of dirt. The impact of Amira’s body caused plumes of dust to rise into the air.

The dust began to get to Vedika. She could feel an itch deep down her throat – the beginnings of a cough. She pulled the neck of her dress over her nostrils to keep the dust from getting into her airstream.

Amira groaned and began to move her aching muscles as she tried to draw herself up through the pain. The man stepped forward and drove a foot into her back, sending her down. He grabbed her hair and hauled her upright.

The man stared at Amira coldly. Then he used one hand to force her chin up revealing her bloodshot eyes. He struck her across the face with the speed of lightning, ripping a scream of agony from her throat.

Vedika’s breath caught in her throat. She clasped her palm harder over her mouth. She was frozen in place by the horror of what she was seeing.

Amira dropped to the altar. Curling up on the dusty platform, she clasped her hands between her legs and cried hard in pain. The man came forward with large wooden stakes and hammered them into the ground about a foot away from her body: two level with her shoulders, two level with her hips. Next, her arms were held fast against a stake each and bound with thick ropes, so that she was spreadeagled on the altar.

The man took out a glinting, long knife and twelve candles from a skin bag on the ground a few feet away from him. He used the candles to form a ring round Amira and lit them.

Then, the most shocking thing happened.

Amira began to scream and writhe as the man drew the blade across her torso. But there was nothing she could do. A foul smell of decay permeated the room as he cut a pentagram on her torso. Blood began to gush out from Amira and some of it sprayed on his face.

Vedika felt a wave of nausea roll through her.

Swiftly, the man reached into the skin bag and brought out a dry skull, which he used to collect the blood rushing out from the cut on Amira.

Suddenly, there was a whooshing sound like the whirring of a violent wind in the basement.

The man gave a terrifying, maniacal howl, and bared his stained teeth from which dripped thick saliva. He bent, clawing and pawing Amira. He waited for a brief, terrifying moment before sinking his teeth into Amira’s arm.

Vedika shivered as Amira’s agonising scream reverberated through the basement. She fell helplessly to the floor as thick, black blood sprouted from Amira’s mutilated arm. The man stood upright. The muzzle of his bloodstained nose glistened as he chewed the lump of flesh.

“O, my God,” Vedika thought.

She moved her eyes frantically: in search of a weapon. There was nothing but dust all around. She lay in a corner with tears swelling in her eyes and angry lines of weariness washing over her face.

Suddenly, she heard a resounding crash, much like the barrage of thunder. She cringed as huge stones with sharp edges began to drop from the top of the basement like rain drops.

Vedika’s eyes glistened with stark horror as myriads of huge black long-beaked ravens rushed out from beneath the altar. The caws and shrill sounds that emanated from the ravens worked on Vedika’s jittering nerves, sending a chill through them. A number of ravens circled overhead, forming an outline against the cave’s roof. And then they coalesced, forming a thick black halo.

Vedika screamed.

Without antecedent, the man whipped his face around in Vedika’s direction. She felt her heart freeze. His bloodshot eyes looked straight into her eyes. And then he grinned.

ABRAM!

Vedika’s eyes shot open.

Vedika lay on the bed wide-eyed, panting heavily and gripping the sheets tightly in both fists. Feeling the dampness of her forehead, she reached up with a trembling hand to wipe off her sweat. The house was eerily quiet, and for several moments, all she could hear were her unsteady breathing and her frenzied heartbeat. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal and the haze of panic that clouded her mind dissipated.

She looked out through the open window and saw that it was still fairly bright outside. She must have only been asleep for a short time, though it had felt like hours.

Vedika tried to remember what she had been dreaming about. It had been a nightmare.. Very scary… A monstrous creature…Abram.., she thought to herself, trying to call the details of the nightmare to mind, but she couldn’t.

Vedika sighed. This had been happening often since they had moved into this house. She frequently had terrifying nightmares, but when she woke up, she couldn’t remember them anymore. And when she did recall something about them, it would be only inconsequential bits and pieces. The high cognisance she felt in the dreams disappeared into an oblivion the moment she woke up. It perturbed her to wake up scared without knowing why.

She could not recall the last time she had slept properly. The slippery nightmares gave her fragmented sleep, because she was constantly waking up terrified, then drifting back to sleep again.

Vedika rolled over to her side. She glanced briefly around the room, then her eyebrows creased and her eyes narrowed. Her room looked as if it had been mildly vandalised. ’How am I just noticing this?’ she thought.

One of the old tiles in the floor had been pried off and broken in half, showing the stone foundation underneath. She frowned and pushed herself off the bed, setting her feet on the floor. Standing in the middle of the room and looking around, she saw that the mattress was stained with blotches of greys, yellows, and browns. Patches of the wall were also similarly stained. There were even a few holes here and there in the mattress, appearing like something sharp had torn through the fabric. It dawned on her how tired she must have really been after her meeting with Bhuva, for her not to have noticed these glaring changes to her room.

What in the world has happened here? She changed the sheets to cover the holes and set aside the broken tiles, making a mental note to talk to Aarti about it.

Vedika glanced at the door and when she saw that it was open, she went to close it. As she tried to lock it, she noticed that the door’s latch was broken. She hadn’t noticed that before too. This, of all the other things, bothered her the most. It seemed like something she should have picked up on—the inability to lock her door. She examined the latch for a while, trying to remember if it had been intact when they moved in, but she couldn’t recall anything pertaining to it so she soon gave up.

Vedika wiped the dust that had transferred from the door latch to her hands and went back to the bed, which squeaked as she sat on it. Despite the fact that everything had been calm so far today, she couldn’t shake the angst that seemed to be crawling from her stomach right through her body. Things were going to get worse; she could just feel it. She rested her palms behind her on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, wishing there was something, anything she could do to stave off the disaster she felt certain was headed towards her family.

Vedika slid her hands under one of the pillows, resting her head on the smooth fabric, with the intention to just lie there for a while, and then go and talk to Aarti. But the meeting with Bhuva had made her more weary than she realised.

In a few minutes, she was fast asleep again.

* * *

A few days after they moved into the house, Vedika noticed that the morning sun was always cloaked in a thick layer of lingering mist. There was also absolute silence in and around the house, as if the entire town was holding its breath. She felt like something strange was going on, but neither Abram nor Aarti said anything about it so she kept quiet, so as not to seem overly pessimistic.

Vedika found herself listening closely during the day for any sounds of human life outside the house–talking, walking, the shrieks of children playing, anything–but she heard nothing. Even the cawing of the crows had abandoned the land. There were no crickets at night and no singing birds to wake them up in the morning. Instead, there was deafening, all-encompassing silence. It pressed in on Vedika from all sides.

Vedika noticed as well that the darkness that spread through the house at night was peculiar. It was so dense and seemed to have originated from within the house itself. Throughout the night and early morning, she would wake up intermittently, usually breathing heavily, her heart racing. Then she’d try her best not to fall asleep again to avoid the nightmares but inadvertently, she’d drift off to sleep within minutes.

Perhaps because of what Bhuva had told her, Vedika now attributed to the house all the bizarre things happening to them, as if the house had a mind of its own that could invent horrors that threatened to plunge her into a dark abyss. She began thinking of the house as a cogitant being that derived comfort in luring her into a realm of nightmares.

Gradually Vedika heard constant intrusive voices in her head. Sometimes she heard muffled shrieks, other times rambling words she couldn’t make sense of. She tried to ignore these irritants and focus more on taking care of Amira, but she still felt like she was going crazy. She and Abram also stopped talking to each other frequently. The few times when they talked to each other, there was a palpable tension between them. She tried her best to reach out to him and close the gap, but it felt like she was pushing against a brick wall. A feeling of isolation pervaded her. It seemed like Abram was fading into the shadows, into the sinister presence of the spirits she believed were haunting the house.

That evening, Vedika decided to finally stop delaying or putting it off and tell Abram everything that ran through her mind. She had concluded to herself the previous night that if there was even the slightest hint of a way out, she was going to give it everything she had, no matter what Abram or anyone said. There was a glint of renewed purpose in her eyes.

They were in the kitchen. Vedika was chopping vegetables while Abram relaxed on a stool behind her, absently chewing on a piece of corn. She put the knife down and turned around.

“Abram, I’ve had an idea for a while, and I’ve been wanting to speak to you about it. It’s about Amira.” Her heart pounded vehemently against her ribcage as she sat down slowly opposite Abram and studied his reaction. She planned to tread the subject lightly, to prevent him from getting angry and labelling her as neurotic.

“Really?” He looked up, surprised, and took the piece of corn out of his mouth. “And what is this idea all about?” To an external observer, he might have seemed genuinely interested, but Vedika could see that he wasn’t wholeheartedly prepared to take her idea seriously. She suspected it was because he was aware that she had been anxious for a few days now. He tended not to take her seriously when she was anxious.

“I really don’t know how to say this. I don’t think I’ve got the words.” She shifted uncomfortably on her stool, “I don’t know if it will make any difference, I just don’t know what else to do. Amira is too young to be going through this. ” She tried her best to prepare his mind and put it to him gently, so he would see her line of reasoning as rational.

Staring at the ceiling trying to gather her thoughts, she realised that it didn’t matter anyway. Knowing Abram, beating about the bush would only make things worse. So she quickly narrated her meeting with Bhuva, what Bhuva had told her, and the strange apparition she experienced while she was there. “It felt so real, ” she affirmed.

Abram’s brows furrowed as he listened to Vedika. He didn’t say anything at first. He just stared out of the window at the trees and bushes with a serious and thoughtful expression on his face.

Vedika waited patiently for a response, but for a long while, Abram remained silent. She wondered if he had even been listening to her. She knew that his response could only be one of two things. One would be that he resented the idea and was disappointed in her for having brought it up. The second, that he was calmly thinking about it to avoid making a hasty decision. Vedika hoped to God that it was the latter.

Abram sat chewing the same piece of corn for a few minutes. Though, outwardly, he appeared calm, there was a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts going through his head as he mulled over what Vedika said. His mind was clouded with uncertainties. He wasn’t sure what would be appropriate to say. An exorcist? He thought to himself. He had always found it utterly ridiculous that other people would willingly partake in such anachronistic rituals. He even mocked Vedika’s family in private for believing so strongly in them.Vedika herself had never been an admirer of such superstitions, which was why this was so confusing to him.

Abram finally broke his silence, taking the corn out of his mouth. “Vidu… I’m sorry, but I don’t understand you at all.You’ve never believed in this nonsense. This doesn’t sound like you. You know it could very well just be a medical condition that-”

“Medical condition?” She cut him off with flailing hands. “There are not even the good physicians here who could diagnose? My daughter is so tired of all the foul-tasting grime the doctor gives from the apothecary. It does nothing.”

Vedika wanted to argue but she felt scatterbrained, her head hurt, and she just thought it wasn’t worth the effort explaining the situation to him. She was suddenly tired. She had a dark, frightened feeling in the pit of her stomach that the day ahead was going to be a long and tiring one.

“She is our daughter, Abram, and she’s very sick. It … she …” Vedika took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. She was tired of keeping everything bottled inside. Why don’t I just say everything on my mind, “Abram, it hurts to see her like that. The screaming fits… it feels like she has been stripped of her innocence.”Vedika lowered her voice, “Her eyes have been looking at me like they are pleading to me to save her.”

Vedika’s heart felt heavy. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs in frustration but instead, she only squeezed her eyes shut, in the hope that she could block out the negative thoughts that haunted her. A single tear slid down to her chin.

“Abram, we have tried science. Why not try faith?”

Abram shrugged.“What’s the emergency?”

“What’s the harm in giving it a shot?”Vedika was getting increasingly exasperated.

“What’s the matter with you? Why are you acting like this?”

Vedika’s eyebrows shot up as she stared at him for a second.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but our daughter has become like a specimen, a test case, to the doctor that’s supposed to be treating her!”

“The doctor couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Her vitals are perfectly normal. It might simply be the flu, children often get a high fever when their bodies are fighting virus–”

“Might be the flu?’ Vedika’s face contorted in anger. “That’s all you have to say? Do children usually scream their lungs out or chop people’s ears because of a simple flu?”

Abram held up both hands, “Vidu… I understand your frustration, I really do. We’re both facing a difficult choice, one that, no matter what we decide, we’ll end up questioning. But to rely on some mumbo-jumbo, especially when it concerns our daughter, sounds crazy to me.”

“What about her being unconscious for so long?’ she murmured, wiping away her tears. She had sat through a whole night next to her barely breathing child.“Right after she finished screaming, she went out like a light. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Abram remembered what the doctor had said–“Parents tend to blow everything about their children out of proportion”–but didn’t dare mention that to Vedika. Instead, he said,“You have to stop being so anxious. That’s what’s really making you worried, not Amira’s illness. You always get unreasonably anxious every time I take you anywhere that is important to me. My family have lived in this house and had no problems with it. But we move in, and suddenly there are supernatural powers lurking around? You have to stop letting your worry control your thoughts!” Abram threw his hands up in annoyance. His voice rose rapidly.

Abram took a deep breath, then stepped towards her, pressing his palm into the surface of the kitchen counter she was leaning against,“Vidu. Look here. We’ll find a way, I promise.” He leaned in to plant a peck on his partner’s cheek but she looked the other way. She sprang up and moved to the window with her arms crossed.

“Vedika… I never meant to force you to do anything, I apologise if I ever made you feel that was the case.”He caressed her arms.

But Vedika turned around, grabbing the knife off the counter and pointing at him with it. It glistened in her hand, reflecting the white light coming from the open window. “I want my daughter! And I am going to do everything I can to save her!” Vedika moved closer to him too, standing on tiptoes so her face was directly in front of his.

“Vedika calm down.”

“I have decided Abram,” interrupted Vedika, taking a deep breath. She set down the knife. ’Something is really wrong. Nothing about all this–” she gestured at her surroundings wildly “–is normal, and don’t pretend as if you can’t see it.”

Anger boiled on Vedika’s face.

“You can say that I have got weird, that’s fine, but what about Amira then?” Vedika pointed her index finger directly at his face, “You know she’s never been like this. You have to admit things got psychotic with her the minute we stepped into this house.”

“You really think the prayers or rituals or whatever you believe in will help her?”

“It’s better than doing nothing,”Vedika said defiantly. “Fine,” she muttered, standing up. ’Fine, but even if you don’t care about my feelings, at least–”

“God, Vedika, I do, don’t twist my words. You’re just not–”

Abram fell silent, collecting his thoughts. They stared mutely at each other. They were not usually like this, Abram had to admit. Not to the point of shouting at each other anyway.

“All right. Go ahead, but I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Abram shook his head.

”Why not?”Vedika asked. “ Since the doctor couldn’t do much, why not take a chance with Bhuva till we get Amira to the hospital? Who knows if that’s our only chance to get her checked out by a real doctor?”

“Vedika, stop this!” Abram yelled, slamming both hands on the kitchen counter.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from one of the drawers. He felt drained, but that didn’t stop him from shakily reaching out one hand to take one.

He took a huge drag and coughed. He exhaled a stream of smoke towards the ceiling.

“Vidu. No one should see their child like that. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. But if we let emotions run amok they will poison our judgement. By allowing such rituals we will be risking her life. Do you realise that?”

“ We’re already risking her life by doing nothing. Besides, you admitted yourself that the disease seems abnormally severe for a young girl like her.”

Abram drew his lips into a thin line and nodded, “Thanks for reminding me, ” he said, stubbing out his half-smoked cigarette.

He considered Vedika’s logic. Personally, he disagreed with the whole thing, but he loved his wife and his daughter dearly and would stand by them no matter what.

“I don’t know if I want to be a part of this. But you can go ahead,” he said, finally capitulating.

“I know how you feel, Abram.” Vedika said calmly. “But for me, even though I can’t imagine why we’re being caused so much pain, I know I’ll be comfortable knowing that we’re leaving no stone unturned,” Vedika said.

There was silence, as both of them thought deeply about what their next step would be. Abram had only reluctantly agreed to it, but to Vedika, it looked very much like the only way out.

* * *

Book III

" Time I am, the great destroyer of the worlds, and I have come here to destroy all.”

Abram consulted Dr. Trivedi during dinner at his house. He had specifically invited the doctor to seek his view. Also he wanted the doctor to be present while he travelled to the city to fetch medical supplies. Surprisingly, the doctor saw no harm in prayers, his exact words were, “In fact, A little bit of faith might help her.”

After everything he had been through the previous day, Dr. Trivedi found it not only impractical, but also too physically taxing to take the 35-minute walk to the nearly lifeless hospital. With Amira soundly sleeping and Abram gone to the city, he had a 45-minute chat with Vedika.

Vedika seemed to be confused about weird experiences in the house. She spoke at length about the nightmares she and her daughter began having within a few days of shifting to the house. Vedika’s exact words were: “Even the slightest noise puts me on edge.” The doctor, a sceptical and rational man, patiently tried to explain to her that a hallucination, whether visual or auditory, is nothing but a neurological outburst that is heavily influenced by the surrounding environment. Patiently Dr. Trivedi explained that in the case of Amira, psychogenic fever manifested itself in the form of trauma, and with the proper treatment, she would be her normal self again. He advised Vedika to rest while he took care of Amira who slept soundly. As night fell, the village took on a certain daunting, stygian look. With shoulders slumped, he trudged onto the lawn outside the house and took a whiff of fresh air.

The strange events of the day had severely rattled the doctor and drained all the energy he had. The shock and pure fear he had experienced washed over him all over again and he let out a shaky breath. His hand went to his ear. Never in his life had he imagined that he would have to reattach his own ear. His fingers trembled as he ran them through his hair. He looked around him. The silence echoed in his ears. There were times when he felt so sick of the hospital that he wanted to be as far away from it as possible. But there was nowhere else to go.

Dr. Trivedi’s thoughts drifted back to Amira and her deteriorating condition. What exactly is the problem? Something was devouring her from within but he couldn’t put a finger on it. For now, she needed fluids to keep her alive and stabilised. Maybe after administering the IV, he would be able to discern what was really going on.

He sighed and walked onto the ground that had no lighting. The soft and moist rhythmic sound of his shoes on the mud echoed through the air. He had never been afraid of being alone in the dark, but tonight, he couldn’t help feeling that something was amiss.

As he strolled, the doctor felt the darkness grow thicker around him till it felt almost tangible. The air was humid, making it increasingly difficult to breathe. The farther he walked down, the faster his heart thumped in his chest. He dismissed it as mere panic–after the events of the day, it was to be expected that he would get frightened more easily. This did not do much to help his breathing, however. Soon enough, he found himself hyperventilating, almost falling into the cold embrace of asphyxiation. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath, then focused on using a few breathing techniques to stabilise himself.

His trembling hands sifted aimlessly through his pockets and felt the cold plastic of the hand torch. He had been carrying it in his pocket for the past two days. How forgetful he was becoming.

The doctor’s mind kept returning to Amira. He had left her in such a fragile state of mind; she could wake up screaming at any point, scaring the wits out of her mother.

He sighed. As much as he hated to spend the night at that house, he knew he would feel better being there, so he could help when things got out of hand instead of waiting here for them to bring her several minutes later after the damage had already been done. She was the only patient he had in the village; he took her health seriously.

He walked back to the back of the house. The house looked markedly different at night. Parts of the roof and the windows were hanging loose and the wild overgrowth in the front yard gave it an eerie look. As he paused to breathe in the cool fresh air, he heard the tell-tale crackle of a light-bulb coming to life. He frowned and strained his ears.

Everything was quiet. The silence was deafening. Darkness enveloped the house.

Suddenly the doctor’s eyes caught a faint glow coming from the direction of the basement. The sound had come from the basement. Puzzled, the doctor headed towards the basement to see what was happening. Caution told him to back off, but he ignored it.

On getting to the basement door, he spotted a faint fluorescent glow coming from the room. For a moment he hesitated, and then, on impulse, pushed the door open with both palms.

A distinctive putrid odour emanated from the room– the doctor recognised the smell of death. He shuddered. He would know that smell anywhere. From his experience, he knew the smell would stick with him for a long time. The room was completely dark. Trying to breathe in as little of the foul air as possible, he fumbled in his pocket for his torch and flipped on the switch.

Before heading in, he hesitated for a moment and looked behind him to check if he had company, but no one was following him. Coughing as a result of the dust, he descended the old wooden stairs,pointing his torch from left to right repeatedly.

Thinking he saw a strange-looking shadow lurking in the far left corner, the doctor turned his flash-light in that direction. There was nothing there. The decomposing red bricks underneath the grey walls stared back at him. He noticed that if he stared at the decaying walls for a long stretch of time, they looked as if they were melting, but they immediately returned to normal the moment he blinked. That’s bizarre, he thought. The basement felt hostile to him, it didn’t want him there. The house had always had a way of making him feel unwanted. Perhaps it’s all in my head. Maybe it’s the way my ageing body reacts to new things. As he took a look around, his stomach tied up in knots.

But, the doctor’s curiosity got the better of him. With measured steps, he approached the site of Bhoir’s death, being careful not to step over the patches of dried blood. Walking towards the spot, his footsteps made an odd squelching sound that made him stop abruptly a few times in angst and confusion. Abruptly, the temperature dropped and he began to feel colder.

His eyes fell on the pieces of Bhoir’s flesh that had stuck to the wall and he quickly looked away. He cast the beam of light over the spot where Bhoir had lain, and what he saw made him flabbergasted. Bhoir’s corpse was sitting upon the floor and staring at him. But… But he had been cremated. The doctor couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Bhoir’s black, decaying, blood-covered face gasped and bent over, retching. It was loud at first and then it slowly morphed into a strained scratching noise, till that too gave way to the hissing silence.

All of a sudden, the corpse howled at him and vanished abruptly.

The doctor struggled to keep himself from screaming out loud. His breathing became laboured. He shone his torchlight all around the basement, but the body seemed to have just disappeared. He took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes. These crazy hallucinations.

A terrifying scream ripped through the silence. He froze in terror. Gathering his courage, he strode back to the stairs. On his way he noticed the shadow of a small figure sitting on a wooden box. It looked like some sort of doll. Turning around to check, he realised that it was not a doll at all. He was face-to-face with a tiny corpse. His stomach churned and he pressed a fist to his mouth to stifle the scream that was fighting its way out. The grotesque little thing lay on a pile of old furniture. It had no eyes and no nose. From its open mouth hung a brown rotten-looking tongue and stained yellow teeth. Its head was half-split in the middle with maggots crawling out of the hole to the floor. There were yellow maggots squirming and slithering all over the floor.

The basement felt like a den of ghastliness and lunacy. The macabre atmosphere was thick with an aura of death. Trying to get a handle on his emotions, the doctor shakily took a step backwards, away from the freakish corpse. His hip crashed into another box which had even bigger corpse on it, covered with a white cloth. The corpse fell against him, making him scream and jump back. The body rolled away and hit the wall. The sheet it was wrapped in came loose, exposing the shrivelled corpse which had bugs and maggots crawling out of it. The doctor stood staring at it, utterly petrified.

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Slowly spinning around, he found more and more bodies–standing upright this time–in the room with him in varying states of decay and mutilation. The white sheets they had been wrapped in were hanging off their bodies, tattered and soiled. They closed in on him, whispering the words he did not understand. Their words slithered into his mind, making him lose his focus. He turned to stagger towards the door, only to find that it had disappeared.

He was trapped.

Trembling, he shuffled to the corner of the room to hide from the vile creatures. As he huddled into a tiny space between piles of old junk, the corner of a wooden box chafed his skin and he groaned in pain.

Once again the whispers got louder and the bodies moved closer, heading towards the crevice he had hidden in as if they wouldn’t give up till they destroyed him. Amidst the cacophony of susurrations, a strange hysterical laughter filled the room.

The doctor’s heart leaped into his throat. He scanned the corners frantically with his eyes. In a corner a few feet away from him, he saw a shadow move. His hands balled into fists and he swallowed hard. As soon as he blinked though, the shadow was gone. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

His stomach churned and he began to shake uncontrollably. His heart beat violently; he could hear it thumping in his ears. He desperately struggled to form cohesive thoughts but all he could think and hear was the sound of hysterical cackling echoing through the basement. He put his hands over his ears tightly, but the sound wormed its way into his brain

He buried his head in his hands and began to pray fervently that somehow it would make everything go away. His prayer was punctuated with gasps and sobs but he kept praying till the room abruptly fell silent.

He looked up. The bodies were gone. The room looked normal again. He almost collapsed in relief. He tried to brush everything off as a hallucination, but deep down, he knew the feeling he had was too real to be dismissed as such. Trying to stabilise his breathing, he gasped for air. His fear still closed up his throat, making it difficult for him to draw breath.

His breath quickening, he turned towards his right. In the corner of the room was Amira’s deformed, maggot-ridden face glaring at him. Her eyes glinted in the darkness, her lips widening in a feral grin. A bizarre reptilian hiss escaped from her mouth. Trembling in terror, the doctor huddled back into the tight space in the corner.

Amira’s face glowered at Dr. Trivedi. He was overcome with fear, a quivering pile of flesh and bones in the corner where he hid. Suddenly, from the depth of the darkness–the areas where his torchlight didn’t reach–came a shrill clanking.

Abruptly, his torch went off. The room became pitch black and dead quiet. For a while, the sound of his own breathing was all he could hear. Then came the sound of something scraping against the floor. The doctor froze, cocking his ears to listen. Shivering in the darkness but not willing to take any chances, he switched on the torch and cast the beam around the room.

What the doctor saw brought him to a dead halt. He was looking at himself, albeit a crumpled, decaying, bug-infested version. He watched as his caricature viciously scraped his own skin with his fingers. The messy strands of his hair were dripped with blood, some parts sticking to his bloodstained face. In all the places where his light beam touched, there was no sign of any other bodies.

Swallowing hard, the doctor turned the light in another direction. It fell on the huddled, weeping body of his mother. He gasped and nearly cried out. Mother… She wailed silently but instead of tears, thick black fluid that looked like blood oozed out from her eyes, nose and even her mouth. Her clothing was tattered and soaked in blood which made it stick to her body. Her cries grew louder.

The doctor was at a loss. He really wanted to console her, but he didn’t have the strength to do so. Then there was the unsettling fact that she was supposed to be dead decades ago. The old woman crawled towards him. She reared her head backwards and spat the brown fluid at him, snarling.

“How dare you make a girl cry?” A deep, hoarse voice echoed through the room.

He screamed and jumped back. The old woman morphed into his dead wife and she looked up at him with vacuous eyes. She was on her knees crying, her arms outstretched. “I gave you everything. Everything…”

“What do you want?!” the doctor yelled.

“Daddy! Daddy! Please save me. ” His daughter lay on the floor weeping, maggots and other insects crawling in and out of her innards.

" Stop! “The doctor gasped, shaking with sobs. “Stop! I’m sorry.”

“You swine!” His mother’s voice came again, echoing throughout the room. Her voice reduced to a raspy whisper and she started talking through gritted teeth. “You degenerate. You murdered your own daughter.”

“No!!!” The doctor screamed and covered his ears with his hands. Suddenly, he fell to the ground and began to writhe uncontrollably.

Dr. Trivedi’s mother’s body kept crawling towards him. But as it closed the distance, it changed again. He now stared at a distorted reflection of himself. It felt like he was looking through a cracked mirror, only there was no mirror or barrier of any kind between him and this horrid creature. The grey hair, the mole on his left cheek, the scar on his upper lip, all resembled him minus the demonic expression.

The creature’s fingers fumbled around on the floor, then grabbed something tightly. It was a rusted iron rod. The replica of the doctor raised the rod high in the air and brought it down forcefully on the doctor’s prone body.

The doctor groaned loudly, thrashing his hands and legs viciously as the pain seized his entire body. He tried to crawl away, but the creature brought the rod down on him repeatedly. Desperate, he sat up and faced the demon. In a split second, he hooked his fingers and sank them into its eyes.

He yelled in excruciating pain as his own left eye was plucked out from its socket. A black, thick substance dripped from his eye. The demon, perfectly intact, laughed in a husky voice. The doctor fell helplessly to the ground, sobbing hysterically as his blood gushed from his empty eye socket all over the floor.

“You have no power over me!” The doctor, in a fit of crazed frustration, popped the eye into his mouth and chewed on it, howling.

Amira’s mirthless laugh rang out, reverberating through the room. The wails of mutilated dead bodies followed, as if in response. They all appeared, first one after the other, then all at once.

Dr. Trivedi staggered to his feet. He clenched his hand and swung his fist, hitting whatever was in front of him in the face. Immediately, he was hurled against the wall. He slid to the ground, wincing at the sound of his bones cracking.

The laughter turned into a wail.

At this, something cracked inside the doctor. Something wild and maniacal overtook him and he went berserk. Growling in outrage, he sprung to his feet and pounced in the dark on any figure close to him. His fingers fumbled in the dark and felt the cold metal handle. Grabbing it, he began to slash at the face in front of him.

Something sliced through the layers of his own skin and a pool of blood oozed out in a steady stream. He screamed in agony, but kept slashing, till the thing in front of him became a bloody mess. The doctor grabbed its bony neck and began to slash its throat. As he did, blood poured out from his own neck, at first in thick, strong spurts, then flowing down like a calm river.

Dr. Trivedi dropped to his knees as his heartbeat began to slow. He beat his chest weakly, trying to breathe, but he couldn’t draw a single breath. A sharp pain stabbed his chest and he opened his mouth to scream but no sound came. He lay limp on the floor.

With great effort, the doctor dragged his hands out to the front of his remaining eye. They were coated with sticky blood. His own blood. Before he fainted, he noticed that the pool around him was rapidly growing.

* * *

“Death seems to have an affinity for people around you.” Mangatram said as he took out his bidi, lighted it and took a deep puff. Abram wrinkled his nose as he watched the police constable light the cheap tobacco.

Abram felt uneasy in the constable’s presence mainly because of the way he regarded him with hungry eyes. He watched Abram like he was waiting for a chance to devour him.

As they walked towards the basement, Mangatram looked at Abram with eyes that had a barely concealed hint of hatred and disgust before he said, “You seem to be having a lot of bad karma lately.”

Abram kept walking without saying a word. They were walking down the stairs when the smell hit them.

Mangatram wrinkled his nose as the dank, putrid stench wafted through the air. It was unbearable. Abram covered his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and even then, he could almost taste the funk. When he breathed through his mouth, somehow the stink was much worse that way.

He mustered his courage and forced himself to lead Mangatram into the basement and take a look around.

Abram felt like he was being choked by a malevolent force. He could detect an aura of anger around the constable.

The doctor’s mangled dead body lay on the floor.

Mangatram’s feet nearly slipped from all the blood on the floor. The tightening of his face told Abram everything he needed to know and more.

Mangatram then moved closer to the body. Abram’s head began to pound as he just stood there. He could not tear his eyes away from the body on the floor. He took a step forward like a man in a trance, Mangatram monitored him closely as Abram began to shiver. Dr. Trivedi’s body lay there, mutilated beyond belief. The remainder of his eyes were white and unseeing. It felt eerie looking into the lifeless eyes. His body lay in a sizeable pool of blood which had clearly spread outward. The whole place smelled like rotting eggs.

Abram could not stop thinking about how bright the doctor’s eyes were the last time he saw him. He realised that for the body to smell that much, it must have been about 24 hours. His heart beat wildly in his chest. His eyes began to blur. He was called back to reality by the echo of the constable’s voice, “It is madness.”

Abram flinched sarcastically. Madness was a gross understatement.

Mangatram, unaware of Abram’s thought process sighed and continued, “What a way to die! He was stabbed approximately one hundred times. Every inch of his upper body is covered with deep cuts. I wonder what could have sparked such anger and cruelty.” As Mangatram said this, he gave Abram an indecipherable look.

Abram stepped back. He was still dazed.

Mangatram kept staring at Abram as he took his plastic gloves off and began to back out of the basement. He finally said, “I can’t help but notice that you seem very unaffected by the sight, and smell of your dead friend….” The constable left the end of the statement hanging in the air as if he was fishing for something.

“I… of course it is upsetting. I wish you could see inside my head. I am shocked and don’t know how to react,” Abram said and as if plagued by a sudden thought, squinted his eyes and asked, “What are you insinuating officer?” as he finally came out of his daze.

“Insinuating? I’m merely commenting sir. Most people won’t be so… still. I have witnessed countless tragedies, but I have to admit it takes immense courage to witness this. It’s simply impossible to desensitise oneself from such a sight unless…”

“Unless what?” Abram’s voice rose as anger began to flare inside him. He stepped closer to the constable and lowered his voice as he said, “You are making false assumptions. Do you really think this is anything but an accident?”

“This is an incident.” Mangatram corrected as he glared at Abram.

With those words ringing in his ears and the dangerous glint in the constable’s eyes, Abram moved quickly back upstairs. He led the constable to the veranda where they could talk without the stench of death and decay hovering around them.

Several unanswered questions haunted him, but he did not know where to begin.

The previous week, around late evening, Bhoir had died mysteriously in the basement of his house. Mangatram started his questioning by referring to this event.

”Yes, his body was found in my basement,” Abram said wearily.

”Okay. I don’t want to stretch this questioning further than necessary, let’s skip the intricate details and get to the point.”

Abram nodded.

”This is the second death in your basement. It is a strange thing, isn’t it? Many questions and thoughts begin to pop up in the brain, one cannot help but ask. If you don’t mind I want a detailed report of your activities in the past week.”

Abram began to shiver again as he tried to comprehend the implication of that line of questioning. He opened his mouth to ask Mangatram for further explanations. “Are you-”

“No. No. I just want to cover all bases and settle this mess,” Mangatram raised his hands in the air as a sign of good will, “so both of us can leave all this behind and live in peace. Do you understand?”

Abram nodded.

“Good,” Mangatram said after looking at Abram for a few seconds to make sure he was calm.

”All right. Let’s begin,” as Mangatram said this, he started to scribble in a worn out book. “What were you doing on the night of October 26, the day Dr. Trivedi is said to have died?”

Abram took a deep breath and replied, “Dr. Trivedi had prescribed some medicines. He also said he needed some medical supplies. He wanted to do a standard IV administration . Both the drugs and the things he needed could not be found around here so I went to Nagpur to fetch those supplies.”

”Okay. What time did you leave and when did you get back?”

Abram began to tap his fingers on his legs as he answered. “I left around six pm, and I think I returned by midnight-“

Mangatram narrowed his eyes at Abram as he asked again, “By which highway did you travel?”

Abram stopped his tapping, looking confused. “What do you mean which highway?”

“Mr. Abram. The distance from Khubala to Nagpur is 42 kilometres. It takes approximately 58 minutes to reach Nagpur by NH47, and around 120 minutes if you travel by NH247. So I ask again, by which highway did you travel?” Mangatram calmly replied while maintaining eye contact with Abram.

Abram grew uncomfortable and stared at his feet as he said, “Well, I didn’t pay attention to the route. It was beginning to get dark, but I was late because there was an accident that resulted in congestion on the highway.”

“Who was with you on your journey?”

“No one.”

“Whom did you talk to over there?”

“I spoke to the man at the medicine store for a while. I don’t remember his name. I then stopped to refill the car tank at Nagpur, I also stopped briefly at Dahegaon-“ Abram fumbled with his pocket, took out a purse and brought out a small chit, “Here, I purchased a water bottle and some snacks for Amira.”

Mangatram looked at the tiny invoice. He placed the invoice in his pocket and continued his questioning. “How long were you at the restaurant?”

“I could not have been there for more than 10 minutes.”

“If you meet those people you spoke to again, would you recognise each other?”

“Yes I would. I don’t know why they wouldn’t recognise me either unless they forget faces easily,” Abram said confidently.

“Did you, by any chance, go somewhere else? Like a bar…?”

“No.”

“What did you do when you arrived home?”

“When I got home, I found the door unlocked. It was surprising so I went straight to Amira’s room to see if everything was fine. I found her sleeping in her room. I did not see the doctor anywhere near. I checked on Vedika, my wife. She was also asleep but she woke up immediately as soon as I walked into the house and-“

“Wait!” Magnatram interrupted, “You said you did not see the doctor. Didn’t that strike you as a strange??”

”Well, like I said, upon arrival I found the door unlocked. I found everything strange, but I didn’t give it much thought at the time,” Abram paused. I headed straight for Amira’s room where I found her sleeping peacefully. The doctor was not to be seen. Vedika was waiting for me. She slept on the chair in Amira’s room. She informed me that after I left, she and the doctor spent nearly an hour with Amira. Thereafter she went to the kitchen to make coffee for the doctor. By the time she finished making the coffee, the doctor was gone. She assumed he had gone to the hospital to wait for me.”

“But, the doctor’s absence….Didn’t you find it strange?” Mangatram scratched his brow as he asked again.

“I assumed he must have gone to the hospital like my wife said. It was midnight, so I decided to visit him when the day got brighter.”

“How did you discover him?”

“I went to feed the birds and water the plants at the back of the house before going to the hospital. As I walked back inside, I noticed that the basement was half-open. Out of curiosity, I went towards the staircase and saw a beam of flashing light, which I later discovered was given off by the doctor’s torch. I opened the basement door to take a closer look and that was when I saw his body.”

“That’s a pretty dull narration,” Mangatram sneered.

Abram clenched his teeth, and said, “Fine, as soon as I opened the door, the view of the pitch-black basement mocked me. Summoning all my courage, I looked around. Some ten metres to my right, I saw the beam of the torch. Everything was eerily silent. I listened intently. With the faint beam of the torch, I saw the outline of a body.” Abram paused. He swallowed and shifted uneasily, remembering the exact moment he saw the body laid out. He explained that he made for the door as fast as he could, wrenched it open and stepped outside into nothing but open air and breathlessly instructed Aarti to call the constable immediately.

Mangatram brought out a plastic bag containing a bloodied hand towel.

“Is this yours?”

“Yes,” Abram replied while looking very flustered.

“I found this near him. Did you have this with you in the morning?”

“No.”

“If you look at the hand towel properly, the blood stains are very different.” He waved the clear bag in front of Abram and made sure he saw on both sides. “On this side, the blood looks fresher than on the other side. Can you explain how that happened?”

“How can I?” , Abram’s voice had a note of irritation, “ I didn’t have this hand towel on me that day and I don’t know anything about how it came to be there and bloodstained. ”

“Did you not drop it on the floor by mistake?”

“No,” Abram said firmly.

Magnatram took a deep breath and continued, “From the little I could see of the sweatshirt the doctor is wearing, it is an ill-fitting shirt. I assume it did not belong to him.”

“No, it did not. The shirt was mine.”

Mangatram gave Abram a look that seemed to demand further explanation and so Abram continued.

“I don’t know,Vedika might have lent him the shirt yesterday. It was quite cold. I will have to ask her.”

“If I ask her myself, would she say she lent the doctor that shirt?”

“If she lent him the sweatshirt, she would say so,” Abram wisely said.

“And if she claims not to have lent to him, what then?”Mangatram fired back.

“What are you implying officer? I have told you that I do not know anything about it.”

“I suppose you never really know what some people are capable of,” Mangatram shrugged.

Abram frowned. They stared at each other for a few minutes in uncomfortable silence. Mangatram sighed and quietly said, “One thing I would like to know is how you were able to bite his ear off?”

Abram’s face blanched and the pounding in his head began anew. He felt a sense of panic bubbling in his chest, taking over his body and appendages. He could have sworn he felt cold spots on his arms as if phantom palms hung on to him.

Mangatram closed the gap between them. He fixed his eyes on Abram and said quietly but firmly, “Are you ready to tell me something you never intended to tell?”

“You really think I am responsible for all this?” was Abram’s response.

Mangatram leaned back, took a long drag from his bidi, blew the smoke into the air and said, “Your house is notorious for its love of death. It is almost parasitic. This is not the first time it has created problems which it uses to justify its existence.”

“That is the single most stupid argument I have ever heard.”

“Everybody knows your bloodline is too stubborn to care about other people’s perspectives.” Mangatram narrowed his eyes as he spoke, “You see, I have been snooping around your house.” He flashed Abram a wicked smile as he kept talking, “Without your permission of course. And though I could not be sure of what I was hearing, I suppose I heard the doctor’s screams.”

Abram frowned as he took in the constable’s words. A stunned moment of silence lingered between them before Abram responded, “Excuse me?”

Mangatram pursed his lips, shrugged and said, “Maybe, the doctor had a secret that could destroy his life. Think about it, he’d probably lose his honour and his life. He’d be cast out and ostracised if the truth ever emerged. That would have to make him pretty desperate to ensure no one ever found out right?”

“What are you getting at?”

Mangatram looked directly at him with piercing and intent eyes as he finally said, “I can’t help but think that the two deaths in your basement are somehow connected, however accidental they appear.”

“And you seem to be focused on me,” Abram replied as he leaned on his knees and began to tap his foot on the ground.

Mangatram did not even look at him as he took another drag on the bidi. “Quite a string of unfortunate events. People seem to be dying all around you,” he mused.

Abram could feel his temper as it began to rise and he was unable to control it, he shouted at the constable, “Do you think I had anything to do with those deaths?, That I am a murderer of the worst kind?”

Mangatram did not flinch. He looked at Abram and said, “ In my line of work, I’ve seen people do terrible things for less motivation than you can imagine. You claim to know nothing, yet these deaths have only one thing that connects them. The only thing they have in common is you. My instinct tells me that you are somehow involved in this mess. I don’t know how you are involved yet, but I will find out. I am good at my job Mr. Abram.”

“The deaths in the basement are just coincidences,” Abram feebly contested as he wrestled the urge to reach over and throttle the annoying man for even implying that somehow he was responsible for deaths.

“Twice is a coincidence Mr. Abram. This is becoming a trend.”

Mangatram stood up, stubbed out his bidi under his feet and said with a note of finality, “This conversation is just to inform you that my eyes are on you. That I will surely find out what you’re hiding and how you are connected with all this. That’s all for now.”

As Mangatram moved to leave, Abram asked, “What happens now?”

“Right now, the priority is to get him cremated. People are terrified Mr. Abram. The air is taut with tension. I’m probably going to have to ask your wife some questions too, if that’s all right.”

“Yes, it’s all right.” Abram replied.

Abram then got up to go inside.

As he stood, Abram felt his head go silent. There was a gnawing pit in his stomach; he started feeling sick. A wave of disgust swept over him. He moved a step and felt his knees weaken. The cold tile floor nearly came to greet him as he fell.

* * *

No, no no. It’s not true. Vedika couldn’t believe her ears when she heard about the doctor’s death. She slumped in her chair. She stared at Abram as she waited for him to tell her it was some sort of nightmare. She was so overwhelmed that she could not move from that chair. It seemed that disasters were the new normal of her life. She found it difficult to keep calm.

She knew Abram grieved for the doctor, he just did it in his own way. A way that allowed him to function even as he grieved. He seemed to have folded that grief deep inside himself, made it part of him, part of the well of grief that had already sprung up. She could see it in his eyes. Since it happened, her brain had ceased to function.

“This place will devour everything that we have,” Vedika mumbled as she gazed unseeingly at the ceiling in Amira’s room. She felt her head pounding, a small hopeless whimper escaped her lips.

The way her husband anxiously paced back and forth made her agitated.

“Why are we still here?” Vedika muttered, as she spoke between fits of silent sobbing. “There is still beauty in the world. Can’t you see it? She is so young. She still has new things to learn, new experiences that might bring happiness into her world. Every time I look at her, I feel guilty for being alive. I can’t do this anymore.”

Abram tried to console her. He hoped his voice would fight through the ringing in her ears.

As he tried to speak, Amira’s photograph on the wall fell over, landing onto the floor. She lunged for it, righted the photo and quickly used her scarf to clean the framed picture as she sobbed harder.

“Can’t you see what’s going on?” Vedika said, raising her voice slightly, she wiped away a few stray tears as she continued more confidently, “How much more…?”

‘I’m just trying to-’

Vedika raised her palm to stop him from uttering any more words. She jumped to her feet, shook her head vehemently, and stormed towards the kitchen.

‘Vedika! At least hear me out,’ Abram pleaded as he went after her.

Vedika stopped in her tracks and abruptly turned around. Her eyes were flaming with anger as she hissed, “I am moving out with my daughter. To hell with this house.”

Abram stopped and considered his next words carefully. “Vedika…. when we got married, neither of us was exactly a believer in religion. Our belief is not a central part of who we are as a couple or even as a family. I…I understand your apprehensions about this place but I am doing everything I can.” Abram explained further. ’Everything that happens, everywhere that I go – I feel like I have done all this before. And I know that it sounds insane, but….”

“You’re absolutely right,” Vedika scoffed before he could go on. “That does sounds completely insane”.

“Neither of us can explain what’s going on here,’ Abram sighed. ’What you are feeling is not logical and what I feel here cannot be explained either.”

“You know the whole time you have been blaming me and claiming I was getting anxious about nothing. Don’t expect me to believe your story about some parallel universe type of nonsense.”

Abram fell silent. He couldn’t bring his eyes to meet Vedika’s.

“I know it is difficult to be or even think like normal people at this moment,” Abram’s voice softened as he looked at his wife lovingly.

Vedika stared at Abram. She remembered her dream about him being in that terrible place with Amira. Perhaps it was guilt that inserted his image into her nightmare. No, this was Abram, her husband and the love of her life, the father of her child. That thought made the whirlwind of emotion in her head freeze to a halt and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Abram led them to the living room. He made her sit down and sat beside her.

He then took Vedika’s hand into his as he continued, ‘But I suppose you’re right. No matter what is going on with this place or between us, our daughter needs to be our first priority.’

Vedika just nodded and looked away, trying to stop the tears.

“It is fine to show your emotions, Vedika, everyone has them. There is no shame in being sad or angry unless those emotions blind us to the truth of who we are, or who we want to be.” Abram cupped her face with his hand and kissed her forehead.

“How about doing this?” Abram asked as he took Vedika’s hands in his again and squeezed them. “Give me two days, okay? Two days, and we will be out of here. I need to convince the constable of my innocence.”

Vedika smiled through her tears and softly punched Abram’s shoulder, it was the first genuine smile he had seen on her face over the past few days. “Thank you,” she said as she laid her head on his shoulder.

And, just for that moment, they were a normal couple again; something they once were. Abram put his arm around Vedika and pulled her closer. She smiled and let herself be held in this single moment where everything felt right.

As he held his wife, something within Abram told him that they would never make it out.

* * *

Vedika glanced up and down the empty street in the hopes of catching Bhuva’s tall, slight frame. She tried and failed to resist the urge to glance at her watch. She did not even know why she kept checking her watch, she already knew a new day would begin in a few minutes.

She was about to take a seat on the steps of her home when Bhuva’s silhouette became visible in the gloom of her street. Although the streetlight was so dim she barely registered his shadows, she could identify him clearly in the barely lit street. It appeared as if he was following tiny shadows that swerved in the dark. She realised later that those were his pet cats which he considered as a good omen. She couldn’t see the cats during her visit to Bhuva’s house.

‘I should have worn a sweater at least’, she muttered as she rubbed her arms creating friction to get rid of the goose bumps that formed on her skin. Vedika hugged herself tighter wishing Bhuva would hurry up.

As she stood waiting at her door, Vedika caught her reflection in the window, her hair was thinner, dry, and greying. It was a far cry from her usual mass of thick, shiny, dark, and bouncy hair. Her reflection looked older, the skin beneath her eyes was dark, swollen, and looked soggy, her eyes widened, they were redder. She had been wearing the clothes on her back for the past two days, she barely recognised herself.

“Thank you for coming. God bless you,” Vedika said earnestly while pressing her back to the side of her door as the cats skirted past her, with raised eyebrows she shot a curious glance at the cats and then at Bhuva.

“My pets,” Bhuva said answering her silent query, “They are messengers of a good omen.” As he said this, he walked past her towards the house. On getting to the stairs, the cats hissed in unison even as their large ears perked up and hesitated.

“Come on, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Bhuva said, reaching forward to touch them. The cats hissed at him and backed off. He had never seen them do that before. He got up off the floor, rubbing his arms and looking around.

“She is upstairs,” Vedika said as soon as Bhuva began to climb the stairs.

As they approached the door, it began to rattle as if an unknown force voiced its displeasure.

Vedika’s hastened her steps wanting to go to Amira immediately, but Bhuva signalled to her to stay put.

A loud wailing reached them, this time Vedika’s eyes were stuck to the ground. She felt her legs become heavy. She wanted nothing more than to hold her daughter, yet it seemed her legs were at odds with her heart’s desire to hold her daughter. She felt a jolt of electricity cascade through her entire body and then forcefully attack her knees. She stumbled and her stomach felt empty, her pace began to lag with just a few paces to the stairs. She clutched her chest as it began to beat almost as fast as the vibration of Amira’s door.

“I must warn you,” Bhuva said calmly, “Whatever happens, do not try to comfort her.”

Even the moon seemed unwilling to bear witness to what was happening to Amira, it barely emerged from the dark clouds. A few bold stars however twinkled obstinately in the night sky, “Time is not on our side today,” Bhuva said as he glanced at the night sky through the window.

Vedika understood what he meant, so she nodded pensively as if preparing herself.

“Please stay away from the doors and windows,” sensing her confusion and seeking to reassure her, Bhuva explained, “A spirit always feasts on our fear of things that are non-existent.”

Bhuva wondered what it meant for cats that were a good omen to suddenly disappear. He remembered the last time his cats had disappeared like that, it had been in the house of Shuriti and her family. Not long after his cats disappeared, the house had caught fire. Shuriti and her family died in the fire and he had barely survived to tell the tale.

Bhuva absentmindedly ran his hand across the scars from the fire on his face. His hands shook with barely concealed panic, he had to find them. He retraced his steps and peeked through the grass covered verandah of the house they had passed by. He went outside and checked the tree, knowing that the cats liked to hide in the branches and pounce on each other.

He could not find them.

Bhuva decided to head back into the house. All the while, Vedika watched him warily as tears began to stream down her face.

As soon as Bhuva returned into the house, the wailing increased raising the hairs at the back of his neck. He cocked his head and pointed a finger towards Amira’s bedroom. Suddenly, a hoarse voice began muttering things from the room. An apprehensive look was vivid on Vedika’s face as she shook from fear.

Bhuva climbed the stairs, followed by Vedika, and moved closer to Amira’s room. He peeped into the room. With a raised hand swinging back and forth, he mumbled cryptic words, going back-and-forth with the voice they heard.

Soon the mutterings from Amira’s room turned into a howl resembling an angry wolf that left Vedika’s ears ringing. She squeezed both her eyes shut and clasped her hands on her ears.

The door to Amira’s room swung open and Bhuva stepped inside.

Amira began mumbling in a mix of infantile chatter and half-formed words, she cackled and spoke incoherently. They were words from a language that Vedika had never heard before.

The life energy in the floorboards and walls seemed as if they were being sucked out and replaced with rot. In an instant, the house seemed to have been transformed into an old, rotting structure. The hinges holding up the window, that had aged so much that the hue of the rust was red and black of humus, swung in the wind and creaked loudly.

Vedika’s eyes widened as the walls turned into rustic bricks. Accompanying the transformation was the smell of decay which permeated the air and began to grow pungent. Standing in the house felt like standing among freshly dug graves in an old cemetery. She tried to cover her nose, but breathing through her mouth left the taste of rotten fish on her tongue.

The breeze suddenly blew the tired windows in with such force that it finally woke Vedika from her daze and she staggered away from the spot where she stood.

Bhuva’s eyes rolled upwards as his body began to shake frightfully. Vedika could scarcely believe her eyes and her jaw dropped as she watched the horror unfolding before her. She thought Bhuva must have been a contour artist at one point in his life considering the unnatural angles his joints and body folded into.

Vedika ducked down as fast as she could to avoid getting smacked in her face by Bhuva’s flailing limbs.

Bhuva’s tongue floated in and out of his mouth before he resumed his chanting. His voice had become hoarse as he increased the intensity with which he chanted. It seemed he was trying to match the viciousness with which Amira spewed her words as if they were in a heated argument.

Vedika was almost sure that Bhuva understood every cackle Amira made since he was responding as loudly as he could to the howls in a most curious manner.

The howling coming from inside the room was so intense and loud that Vedika thought she could feel the weight of it pressing down on her and sucking the air out of the room even as the wind still blew violently.

The bone crunching depression took over Vedika as she began to experience shortness of breath. She was tempted to throw herself out of the window, but she fought the urge within herself. Momentarily forgetting about the stench, she took a deep breath and promptly had a coughing fit. She slumped beside the cupboard and curled herself into a fetal position to properly catch her breath. She trembled like a leaf. As she did this, she took her eyes off Amira and Bhuva and stared at the walls which were now covered in grime.

As she kept looking, she noticed that lifeless fetuses dripping with blood were hung evenly on the wall. She jerked back as a claw emerged from the wall and ripped the head of the fetuses. Black blood sprayed everywhere and the severed heads began to howl. “Stop it!” Vedika yelled. She was chilled to the bone feeling a stab of fear and thrashed with her arms in a frail attempt to escape the horrific sight.

The fetuses’ heads continued their torturous wailing. The ensuing cacophony resulted in Vedika’s temple throbbing as if playing along with the rhythm of each wailing fetus. Her ears could take no more of the pain that came from being so close to the source of such ghoulish sounds.

Bhuva stopped chanting. His forehead was bathed with beads of sweat slowly streaming into his eyes and moustache. She could hear his strange wheezing sound as if something had stuck in his throat.

Standing to her feet on shaky legs, she yelled at him, “Stop it! What are you doing to her?”. Vedika began to cry again, this time, she seemed resigned as she said to Bhuva, “It seems everything you do to her just makes her scream like a banshee. If everything you do is going to make her more… more... “ Vedika couldn’t bring herself to say the words. In anguish, she looked at Bhuva and continued, “Just stop, please, stop.”

Vedika wiped away her tears and looked around the room. She saw black blood oozing from the walls of Amira’s room. Watching the walls felt like watching the skin being slowly peeled off an animal as the blood kept dripping down to form a pool on the ground.

Bhuva’s breathing intensified, Vedika could also hear Amira whimpering but it ended almost as soon as it began. The sounds of laboured breathing she heard were replaced by howling.

Vedika became hysterical as more tears streamed down her cheeks matting strands of hair on her face, she ran towards the door trying feebly to shut it.

Suddenly Bhuva’s eyes blackened and rolled upwards. He raised his hands in the air as smoke waltzed from his body as if his body was burning from inside. He gazed at a spot just above Amira’s head and his eyes became contorted, his skin looked like burning coal, red, turning the sweat that managed to form on it into vapour, but he didn’t flinch. His veins bubbled up from his skin, he did not seem in control of his entire body. His skin slowly changed from the burning red of coal to the black of death as he continued to blabber in what sounded to Vedika as if he had a terrible itch at the back of his throat than an actual language.

Vedika looked up at the walls. One of the claws heaved the blood-soaked head at her. She screamed and shielded her head with her arm, she managed to avoid being hit on the head by pushing the severed head onto the wall as it came for her. The edges of its sharp white canines contrasting sharply against the blood-soaked tongue sent her in full-blown panic.

Snarling relentlessly, it thrust its head at a startled Vedika, who reacted reflexively by jumping back, she landed on the floor that was slippery with blood and almost lost her balance.

From the corner of her eye, Vedika saw Bhuva stumbling, he almost tripped over the cupboards in the gloom. He seemed as if he was choking. His lips moved furiously muttering words that sounded alien to Vedika and irritated her ears so much her eyes began to twitch.

Bhuva ran with such force towards the wall as if propelled by an invisible force and slammed himself into the wall. He began to scream in a hoarse voice, partly from pain coughing up blood, and partly from frustration.

Bhuva resumed his guttural chanting. The house, not wanting to be outdone screamed back. Without warning a violent cough wheezed up leaving him gasping for breath. He bent down and grabbed his knees for support as he struggled to breathe. A whistling sound escaped from his mouth. He tried to inflate his lungs by taking a deep breath but a violent cough burst out and sent him out of the room. He rolled down the stairs. Vedika quickly followed him.

Bhuva’s legs refused to support his weight as he kept falling in his attempt to get back to Amira’s room. He moved closer to the edge of the stairs and braced himself against the concrete. He turned, glanced at Vedika who looked at him fearfully, and signalled that he would continue after a brief pause before continuing to cough and choke on his blood.

“She will seek refuge in lies causing you to doubt everything. Do not listen to her. The moment you do, you will become inferior to her, she will gain control over you.”

Amira’s sobs reverberated through the house.

Vedika turned to go back to her daughter who needed her more than Bhuva did. She knew Amira was her sweet innocent daughter who needed nothing but her mother’s love to comfort her. She prayed to God for her daughter to speak to her. She could not remember the last time she had heard her daughter’s voice, her arms ached from being raised to cover her ears for so long, and she desperately wished all the cackling, screaming and howling would end.

Bhuva, panting like a hell-hound quickly followed her.

As soon as they got upstairs, they were frozen in their tracks.

The blood-splattered walls were clean. The fetuses, the monster had disappeared.

Amira sat upright on the bed, her head bent looking intently as if staring at the something unknown, her black hair flowed downwards to cover her deathly pale face. She looked like something out of a nightmare even more so as she slowly turned her head towards Vedika and revealed eyes that were filled with hatred.

It was nothing short of grotesque, Vedika felt her heart drop in her stomach, her beautiful baby was….

No, she would not think that of her Amira.

Amira’s eyes opened revealing an empty void, her lips parted cracking her face as if smiling was an unnatural, unknown thing to her, the result was a grin that made Vedika clutch at her chest for the umpteenth time that night.

“Vidu….” Amira called her name in a deathly tune, her voice had become rasping from cackling, howling, and screaming, “Remember how you allowed your retarded brother to play with your body?”

Amira cackled, “He wouldn’t sleep unless he caressed, squeezed your breasts, and played with your nipples. You didn’t like it at first, but you never resisted. Gradually you even looked forward to it, at least someone needed you, right?” Amira’s voice was filled with mock pity and cackled louder than before.

Vedika shuddered, she comforted herself even as her heart broke that at least Amira was speaking, even though she wished she could wipe the stupid grin off her face.

Everything was turning out to be unexpected. Vedika’s mind wandered in her past.

Ved was Vedika’s younger brother who had been handicapped. He could not walk a few feet on his own. No one seemed to know or understand his strange case except Vedika since she was always closer to him. Her mother (bless her soul) had insisted on breastfeeding Ved till he was 6 years old. However, as soon as her mother stopped breast feeding Ved, he started coming into Vedika’s room insisting on fondling her breasts till he fell asleep. She couldn’t lead her normal life without her joy being purloined by the burden of her brother which rapidly became worse after her mother’s mysterious death. Her family history contained nothing but a series of tragic events that broke her from inside.

“Vedika, Vedika, Vedika,” Amira sang again in an eerie tune.

Suddenly, Amira yelled at Vedika, “And how many times did you fantasise about pushing him off the stairs? How many times? Vedika, the girl who secretly danced around when her brother was killed, you thought at least you would be free, such a vile thought, sweet Vedika.”

“Stop it! That’s not true,” Vedika screamed back at her.

“You lying piglet!” Amira yelled at the top of her lungs. Her words echoed loudly against the concrete walls of the bedroom. “Will you tell your husband, you naughty girl? Are you going to tell him how it felt to have your breasts sucked and fondled by your sibling?”

Vedika burst into tears, sniffling and sighing. She sobbed and put her head down in shame.

“Do not listen to her,” Bhuva said cutting through the tension and gloom. “She is taunting you. Do not listen to her accusations. By listening to her you are reaffirming her wish to engage with you.”

Amira chuckled loudly making slurping sounds.

Bhuva dipped his hand in the wooden reliquary, his fist pulled out sacred ash which he threw at Amira who promptly screamed, and trashed around on her bed. He began to recite holy verses.

Vedika stared at him. She wasn’t confident anymore. Tear tracks could be seen from her big, black eyes and down to her cheeks. She covered her face with her palms. A pang of guilt began to rise within her.

Amira howled again and began to throw violent fits.

Just then, Abram entered the room. He looked dazed and stupefied at what he saw. “Amira? Baby, what has happened to you?” She was almost unrecognisable. The creature with the white face and all-black eyes wore his daughter’s nightgown and sat on his daughter’s bed. He did not want to believe it, but he knew.

Abram rushed to hold his wife Vedika. He held her and was almost afraid to check if she was breathing.

Amira twitched her head towards Abram, who was horrified by how unrecognisable she appeared.

Amira spat on Abram’s face. “You swine! Why don’t you tell everyone about how you fantasised about raping your mother, about how you would peep while your mother was bathing. I know you still remember her night routine, don’t you? Wasn’t that why you chose sweet Vedika, she reminds you of your mother.”

Abram couldn’t believe his ears.

Amira’s eyes roved around the room as a grin appeared on her face. She seemed to be enjoying their horror and fear. She gleamed like a child who was unwrapping her presents. “Your rotten semen stinks of lust.” Her voice was hoarse. It was not hers.

The strength left Abram’s knees. It appeared as if he would slump any moment.

Amira continued with glee, “Abram, you are a perpetually horny pig. How was your first time with your best friend’s mother? Did you bury yourself inside her? Didn’t you hide around his house every night for two months, just to sneak inside and be with his mother?” she bent her head towards him and whispered so only he would hear, “Did you rape his sister?”

Suddenly, they heard a loud knock on the door.

Abram turned to open it, but Bhuva stopped him in his tracks. “Don’t! It is part of her tricks.”

The knocks turned into a loud banging. Vedika, with tears overflowing, stared at Abram who in turn eyed Amira who hissed like a snake.

Suddenly Amira began scratching her thigh over the fabric of her pyjamas. The scratching soon tore through her pyjamas. Multiple rashes and boils appeared on her skin, she picked at them and continued scratching. The boils began to ooze and scab over. With closed eyes, she continued to scratch her thigh vigorously as if enjoying every bit of it.

“Amira…baby…Oh my god!” Vedika cupped her hand to her mouth. She vomited at the sight of maggots crawling over Amira’s body.

Amira’s fingers slid over her groin and felt the soft flesh.

A horrid smell lingered over the room. Vedika desperately fought the urge to vomit.

Amira closed her eyes as if having the maggots squirm within her was the highest pleasure. It was as if the disgusting filth gave her such pleasure like a depraved beast.

For a moment Vedika was paralysed. It was a sight she had never seen before. She prayed fervently hoping against hope that what she witnessed was one of those nightmarish dreams.

Vedika covered her mouth, gagging, as she witnessed Amira’s tongue darting out of her mouth, she scooped up some filth and held it in front of her eyes. Amira lustily looked at the slime on her fingers as if wanting to gobble down the rancid mucous with bits of maggots.

Suddenly,Amira rubbed her finger in her vagina to grab some of the grime and then she put it in the wounds that covered her thighs. Her legs dripped with yellowish-brown fluid with hues of red splattered and maggots crawling in them.

Amira parted her legs. Her inner lips were swollen, almost black and a stream of brownish slime oozed from her. A large mass of slimy creatures wriggled their way out through her anus. She chuckled at the grotesque sight of her bloody thigh, her muscles could be seen clearly. The yellowish-brown fluid with hues of red dripping down her legs began to drip down her hands and splattered on the bed-sheet. The fluid had a vile and repulsive odour that contaminated the air in the room further.

Amira’s grotesque face was filled with hate. As if the rage began to build within her, she used her nails to tear into her skin inside the disgusting pool she created. Her fingers cut through the oozing ball of pus on her thigh and exposed the bone.

Amira raised her shaking hand, twisted her fingers and stabbed herself in the groin. The nails cut into her tearing through skin and tissue exposing the flesh that was as red as scarlet and oozing with small yellow dots of thick pus and covered with maggots. It was as if the maggots had multiplied inside her.

Amira let out a sinister laugh as she made eye contact with her mother and shoved her finger violently deep within her, harder this time.

“Baby…no,” Vedika screamed as she felt the waves of pain cascading down her back. Her body shook in disbelief at the sight before her eyes. She shivered violently with fear as sweat dripped down her body.

Vedika drew in a slow breath and lunged herself towards Amira. She wanted to stop her daughter from doing more harm to herself. “Baby...” she said, reaching forward to hold her.

“Don’t-” Before Bhuva could complete his sentence, Vedika had rushed towards the bed.

Amira cocked her head and laughed hysterically.

As soon as Vedika stretched her hands towards the bed, she felt something smash into her and lift her clean off the floor and then slam her into the wall. Her breath whooshed out of her in a rush and she struggled to inhale. Looking from left to right and seeing nothing within the room to hold on to, she fell in a fetal position and clutched her stomach with tears rolling down her cheeks. Her breathing became heavy. The debilitating pain drained her energy. Blood oozed down from the spot on her head that hit the wall.

“Vedika!” Abram shouted as he rushed to her and held her in his embrace. From above him, he heard a deep chuckle. He glared at Amira in revulsion. He shuddered as her voice turned and she spoke a language he did not understand. Something about the words themselves hurt his brain. “What are you doing?” He screamed.

Suddenly, Amira’s eyes were filled with uncontrollable rage again and Abram felt the presence of dark malicious energy around him. Everything became colder than usual. He rose and rushed towards the bed. The sight of the grotesque face fuelled his fury as he hit his daughter’s face with the sort of strength he never knew he possessed.

Amira was covered in her blood and some vile fluids from head to toe. She screamed as the fist came in contact with her eye leaving burning agony. She retched, fell off the bed, and fainted on the ground in a pile of grime, pus, and blood. Momentarily, her body became limp before the madness took over her again. She twisted her head vomiting a green liquid with caustic fumes that was aimed at Abram’s face.

Bhuva threw another fistful of ash at her and began to chant hymns loudly.

“Defend us against the evil”.

“Rebuke his trickery and deceit of your children”.

“Draw her closer to you in your embrace”.

“Oh lord! Remove the veil of lies and allow her to see the truth”.

Suddenly Amira’s body fell completely limp. An uncomfortable silence landed over the room.

* * *

Bhuva paced the small confines of the room, wrecked by indecision. The spiritual had been part of his life for so long, now that he’d encountered something truly supernatural, he didn’t know what to do. He brought out an ancient book that was bound on all sides with different adhesives, the book appeared to disintegrate even if a blown breath dared to fly over it. He flipped through the book carefully, the worry on his face only seemed to become etched even deeper as he closed the book.

Over the last few days, he’d prayed for guidance from God. He tried to hear the inner voice that he once heard so clearly, attempting to get that feeling from the warm guiding hand of God’s influence. Despite praying fervently, every time he thought he felt the warmth of guidance, an impossible-to-ignore evil, twisted presence grew around him so strongly that it made him sick.

Bhuva went outside again and waited near the front door for a few minutes, his eyes intently searching for his cats. It was dark outside. ‘There is no way they could have just disappeared’, he thought. His eyes wandered around the pitch-black street again.

“What the hell was that?” Abram asked in a commanding voice as he stood behind him. They had decided to leave Amira for a minute while Vedika cleaned her. Clenching his jaw, he said again, “What happened upstairs was nothing short of a dreadful nightmare.”

Bhuva’s hand was visibly unsteady, he kept clenching and unclenching his fists, Abram thought the man could collapse at any moment, but he didn’t care.

Bhuva took a few deep breaths as if trying to calm his nerves trying to hide his nervousness with his controlled breathing. He glanced at Abram. He found him a charismatic man, whose drive and determination were his defining characteristics.

Bhuva bit his lip, trying to think of exactly what he would say. “I know right now you must feel like you are in the eye of a storm. Just know that I am doing everything I can for your family,” Bhuva said tactfully guiding him towards the chair.

Abram clenched his fists. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a calming breath. “Everything looks like the hellish landscape of a dream. What’s happening to my daughter?” he asked.

“The thing inside her has ripped her apart. She is separated from herself,” Bhuva replied as his eyes deepened with worry. “Restless souls carry a kind of morose, despondent quality that can make death even more ambitious. We need to have faith in God,” he said inclining his head upwards.

“So you think that my little girl is being punished by some spirit who rejoices in her suffering?” Abram’s voice rose sharply. He screamed in Bhuva’s face, “What have you done to her, you bastard?”

“It’s something I have heard of but never thought that I would experience.” Bhuva replied with a sorrowful tone to his voice. He tried to imagine what Abram and Vedika were going through and it threatened to tear his sanity apart. He felt so powerless. He wanted to help, but this was beyond all the teaching and studying he had ever done.

Abram clenched his teeth. “I wish you could experience how much pain she’s in right now. I can sense the fear and anguish from her. She’s old enough to know what’s happening to her. The maggots are slowly eating her, crawling inside the breaks in her skin. And all you can do is blame it on some spirit.”

“I am trying to-”

“Stop it, stop torturing her! Why are you doing this?” With his black hair uncombed and two days of growth across his chin, Abram looked like a madman right now. His eyes were wide with barely concealed fear and fury.

Bhuva didn’t want to say anything, but his silence seemed to irritate Abram who with each passing moment became angrier, he flung the lamp that was beside him against the wall.

“Mr. Abram. Helplessness is a pit in the ground with no end, please do not fall into that pit,” Bhuva said morosely. “My entire being feels like I’m wilting. This is what it wants. It wants us to feel helpless. It’s like its evil aura is amplifying our suffering-”

“Who? What?”Abram’s voice was distraught with frustration.

“The demonic energy. It wants you to feel that you belong within the decomposing walls of this house. Through your daughter, it is trying to arouse the most horrendous fear from the darkest parts of your mind shaking the foundations of your faith. It wants to plunge you into the depths of despair. It wants you to curse God for failing you-”

Abram laughed. It sounded like the hysterical laughter of an insane person. He didn’t for one moment believe that an actual demon was torturing his daughter’s soul. “You know what, I feel as if this is my fault. I should never have allowed you near her. A demon! You have lost your mind. You stand there, all composed lecturing me about not losing faith? I can barely recognise my daughter, do you think she’ll be able to play with other children her age? Will she even have friends? Has your daughter ever called you a… a…”

“That kind of self-doubt could kill you, make you question everything about yourself. You watched the doctor struggle against impossible odds to try and save your daughter for days.”

Abram looked at Bhuva with furrowed brows. Disbelief was written all over his face now as he looked at Bhuva as if he was seeing him for the first time, “I’ve been smelling something foul about you since I got in here.”

“I know it’s going to be hard,” Bhuva continued desperately. “Know that it’s fine to feel sad about it and have bad moments, but we have to keep going because that’s what matters. We can do this Mr. Abram-”

Abram just looked at him and shouted, “Right now I want you to leave, get out of my house!”

A loud sob drew their attention. They had been so engrossed in their argument, they did not know when Vedika sneaked behind them. She ran unsteadily towards the bathroom and heaved into the toilet. She threw up everything inside her. She placed her back against the sink and cried.

“Vedika!” Abram shouted as he ran after her into the bathroom.

* * *

Bhuva stood outside the house. The night air was cold and windy. The big moon, white as the face of a dead man appeared behind black silhouetted trees, throwing its beams over the windows of the house.The breeze seemed hostile as if it carried an intention of harm. His mind was flooded with questions. He knew that the evil wasn’t just a projection; he could feel its presence everywhere. He could hear the wavelengths of suppressed screams leading the misery to knife his chest.

Bhuva determinedly walked towards the darkest part of the house. He felt that he was being deliberately led to the basement by an unknown force. He stood at the intimidating entrance and stared at the melancholic darkness. For a moment, all he could see was a void as if the staircase had disappeared, an endless pit of dark and gloom loomed before him.

Bhuva stared at the pitch-black darkness that stared back at him. He slowly approached the door, but it slammed itself shut before he could take a step down the staircase. He hesitantly stretched his hand towards the knob. He had barely touched it with his fingertips when the door began creaking and slowly pulling itself open again. Suddenly the door flew open and slammed against the wall. He paused and clutched his chest. The feeling of apprehension pervaded him, he steeled himself and began to descend.

As he slowly descended the stairs an unbearable stench, an amalgamation of rotten blood and unbathed livestock, pierced the atmosphere. Repulsed by the awful smell, he considered turning around, but he kept walking even as his mind was messed up with the memories of what he had encountered earlier. He glanced around the dimly lit room unsure of his steps.

Anxious thoughts chased themselves around his mind and he nearly lost his footing on the shattered steps. He felt something sharp thrust through the wedge between his toes, he let out a shrill shriek and lost his balance completely. As Bhuva rolled down the stairs, he saw a blur of greys. He cried out as his whole body spun down the sharp wooden steps. He felt his skin being scratched and was nauseous from all the jostling.

By the time he landed at the foot of the stairs, he felt his consciousness fleeting. A hazy image of two eyes blocked his tilted view as his eyelids began to stick together. He winced and twitched. Wearily, he slid his hand across the soft dust on the concrete floor till he could see his fingers. He slowly pressed on the squeaking stair, pushing himself up to his knees.The thick darkness curtailed his sight.

As soon as his eyes became accustomed to the dark he stood up on shaky legs and began to walk down the dark passage like a person in a trance. After a few paces he stumbled on something floppy as he walked forward. He turned his head back and gasped as he saw what lay beneath his feet.

In the faint light he saw his own dead body lying motionless with his eyes agape.

Bhuva felt an eerie sensation. As he strode forward he couldn’t stop looking over his shoulder to gaze at the wicked sight of his lifeless body.

The evil always makes its presence felt through nightmares.

It was as if he was being watched. He heard a faint echo of odd maniacal laughter that sent cold fear up his spine.

Bhuva heard a rustling in the far-right corner of the room. Fearfully, he turned around and was relieved to see his beloved cats. What were they doing in the basement?

Tej? Lily? Nala?

He cooed to them like he did every other day. Contrary to his expectations the cats did not crawl into his lap or curl around his legs like they usually did. Instead, they glared at him, with an odd expression in their eyes and watched him wickedly from a distance.

Bhuva was surprised at their curious behaviour. They usually liked to be close to him. He noticed that his cats watched him as if he was a stranger. He stretched his hands and made cooing noises again to make them come closer. But none of the cats moved. Bhuva took a deep breath and inched closer towards them. Lily, who was closer to him, bared her teeth, revealing her powerful sharp canines. When he tried to rub her fur though, she gave him a warning snarl.

He tried to pull the cat towards him again, harder this time. Lily glared at him, made a low grumbling growl, spread its frontal legs apart, and threw her chest out.

Bhuva straightened himself. Lily stalked lazily and purposefully towards him. She stood right in front of him, tail raised arrogantly as she fixed her eyes on him. Her eyes seemed to be glinting and her mouth was fixed in what seemed to be a grin, but it was terrifying.

Slowly, Lily approached him and scratched his feet. Bhuva opened his mouth to perhaps command to calm her down. Lily arched her back as if slowly winding up before jumping in his lap. Suddenly she hissed and spat on him. For Bhuva, this was completely strange behaviour, he did not know how to react. The next instant, Lily leapt at his face with a fierce, unnatural shriek. Landing on Bhuva’s face, the cat began spitting and clawing, and embedded her claws in Bhuva’s eyes.

Bhuva began to scream violently as he tried to pry the cat from his face. He grabbed hold of Lily by her throat, throwing back his head in order to avoid the white fangs but Lily manoeuvred herself out of his grip. She went for the side of Bhuva’s face, using her sharp canines to dig in, she sank her teeth into the soft muscles of Bhuva’s ear and tore the flesh with her powerful jaws. Bhuva howled mournfully like an injured prey. Blood began to gush out from the wound and ran into the inner parts of his mutilated ear. Lily, using her molars, chewed hard on the ripped-off flesh while still struggling with Bhuva.

Before Bhuva could understand what was happening, Lily dug her teeth into his larynx. A burning sensation began to spread in his larynx and he felt as if a part of his throat was slit open. This feeling was because his throat was truly slit into bloody chunks. His oesophagus was visible. A piece of flesh was still hanging by a thin strip of muscle, he couldn’t move his neck without pain paralysing him or his crust stretching wider.

Bhuva started to scream and wail insanely as his brain tried to comprehend the unexpected turn of events. Instinctively, he batted the cat with his fist. Lily howled like a woman in pain and attacked more viciously. As he fought to be free, he tripped over and fell flat on his back.

Nala and Tej, two other cats screamed and charged at him.

Bhuva could feel blood dripping down his neck. The pain was excruciating. He saw the shadow of the paw charging towards him, and in the next instant began to scream hysterically as his eyeball was severed from its vein.

Bhuva was shot full of adrenaline but the pain was beginning to override his senses. He struggled to get free of his cats when he suddenly felt a painful prick on his abdomen and thighs. Nala and Tej began to scratch at every visible inch of his skin.

Their claws had been due for trimming a few days ago, it was unfortunate for Bhuva that he had procrastinated because those sharp claws had become his literal undoing.

Tej clawed at his chest with his front paws, tearing the flesh and drawing streams of blood. Bhuva yelled out in pain again. He tried to hit Tej with his clenched fist. Tej growled loudly and got angrier, and began to exert pressure, clawing Bhuva all over his body crazily. The front of his clothes was stained with blood and his strength waned as he struggled with the brute force of his cats.

Bhuva pried Lily, the one on his face, but suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his foot. Nala had latched on to his left foot, biting deep into the skin and slashing his leg with her claws. The bite caused a deep wound which dripped blood. He yelled, feeling a stab of fear and thrashed with his arms and kicked his legs all in a bid to get the cat off his large frame. His hand grabbed nothing, and fear spread cold fingers down his spine.

Bhuva’s clothes had patches all over and he was drenched with blood and sweat. His heart pounded wildly against his chest as he tried to make sense of where the cats had disappeared to.

Abruptly as he spotted them, the cats ran into a dark corner.

Bhuva sat up, even though nothing was there, he was gripped by the unknown fear. He shook his head. His forehead was clammy, a few drops of his sweat dribbled on the floor as he stood shaking, trying to comprehend the strange event that occurred moments ago.

Something rattled behind the wooden panel. It seemed the cats revelled in slowly torturing him because he heard them purr.

Suddenly Tej broke the wooden panels and charged towards him, vaunting its terrifying figure by exposing its blood-stained conical teeth. Before Bhuva could react, he darted at him with his despicable claws, but Bhuva got his hand up in time to shield himself. He dug his back claws in his forearm. The cat’s back claws felt like a razor as it sliced his skin.

Bhuva tried to fling Tej on the ground, but it bit harder piercing his skin and drawing a stream of blood. Bhuva managed to catch his mouth and he succeeded in pushing him away to the wall. Tej hit the wall, but he charged at him again.

Nala wrapped herself around his legs and punctured the old scar resulting in the looming lump of dead tissue that hung from the skin. Bhuva hadn’t experienced such pain before, it drove him to insanity. He screamed and trembled terribly.

Bhuva tried to drag himself up and grabbed anything he could. However, he only managed to roll onto a nearby plank riddled with nails. His back was pierced by the rusty nails which slid right into his flesh. He screamed in agony but whimpered as his voice was hoarse and dry from all the screaming and crying. He tried to lift himself again but realised that the wooden board had attached itself to his back. He tried to roll frantically to his left and right screaming in pain. He could feel the gushing of warm blood.

The cats -his cats- landed on him.

Bhuva was used to the weight of his cats, they loved to lie on him. What shocked him was the unbearable pain he felt this time. He screamed profanities and prayed to God to save him from the debilitating pain that sucked the energy out of him.

Bhuva tried to fight hard, but it seemed the cats gathered more strength. Nala went for his face. She sank her powerful incisors into Bhuva’s lips and held on to it with her canine, shaking her head vigorously. The hot pain shot through Bhuva’s body. Nala held onto the lips, shaking her head viciously. The powerful canines penetrated the deep tissues of Bhuva’s lips, ripping off the soft tubercles and vermillion flesh. The pain was so acute that Bhuva could not even scream. He lay there, struggling with the cat feebly, his face and chest heavily stained with blood.

Bhuva was covered with scratches and bites. He tried to drag himself towards the stairs to cry for help but it only caused more pain. As he opened his mouth to cry for help for the last time, Nala suddenly thrust a paw into his mouth. She rammed into his mouth like a furry, angry ball of hate and began to tear apart his tongue. As he tried to spit the paw out, it seemed like he had widened his jaw to accommodate even more of the cat.

Bhuva gagged on it. Nala dug into Bhuva’s mouth, while Lily and Tej made deeper scratches on his abdomen with their teeth and claws. They tore his skin and blood began to leak, slowly at first and then flowing in short bursts. The floor was soaked with blood and the air smelt like a slaughterhouse. Nala was the smallest and she began to make her way into Bhuva’s throat. She clawed and flattened herself till only her tail was visible outside. She squirmed and writhed till she had finally worked her way into Bhuva’s throat.

A terrible guttural sound emanated from Bhuva as his body twitched. His eyes glazed over in a panic. The pain in his body amplified. Panting heavily he tried to drag himself, but the darkness enveloped him. This did not deter the cats in the slightest and a low, ripping sound like a person tearing chunks of meat from the bunch came from his inside. The cats made a hole from which his intestines were visible. One of the cats entered his stomach. She pulled the intestines which rolled out in a spiralling motion like a serpent.

Bhuva was completely drained now. The agony ravaging through his body brought unconsciousness near. He could hear the faint footsteps of death approaching. His brain was unable to process anything. He felt too weak to do anything, so he just lay there, moaning in pain till he slipped into final unconsciousness.

The cats’ furs were matted with blood and gore. They stripped the skin from the bone like they were searching for something.

Almost all the bones from his body were visible now. Only bits of flesh remained, yet the cats kept tearing. With bloody teeth and claws, they wreaked havoc on their owner’s body making sure no piece of bone was still covered in flesh.

Bhuva’s eyeballs, ears, and blobs of flesh lay forgotten on the ground.

* * *

Abram rushed towards the bathroom and switched on the light. His heart almost stopped at the sight before him. “Vedika!” He moved forward and rolled her onto her back, seeing and smelling the vomit. Oh my god! Horrible thoughts flashed through his head and he touched her forehead to check her temperature before Vedika opened her eyes.

He felt relief, yet Vedika struggled against him, trying to push him away from her. “Vidu, are you all right, what happened?”

Vedika looked around, muttering something to herself he didn’t catch before she turned angry eyes on him. “Get out Abram. You are responsible for everything,” she said in a cold voice.

Abram felt his own temper rise at the tone she used, but let her go and she slid across the floor to lean against the wall. “Vidu…please,” Abram said trying to be calm.

“Just leave me alone.”

“Let me help you,” he said offering her his hand..

“I said get out! Stay away from me!” Vedika said. She glared at him in revulsion, then looked him straight in his eyes while breathing heavily; like a bull about to charge at its target. “Do you realise that every moment I see and feel fragments of nightmare? The incessant buzzing, the ceaseless hypnotic jerks, and the deafening whispers are driving me and my daughter crazy? No. You just don’t care.”

Abram froze, clenching his jaw. The worst that was to happen was already a reality.

“No,” he held out his left hand towards her showing her his wedding ring. “Remember this? From this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. You keep pushing me away, making us try and deal with what’s happened on our own, when we should be here for each other. We must fight for our daughter together. If you lose your faith in me it will kill me.”

Vedika paused, looking down at herself, “Everything is in such a mess Abram,” she whispered as fresh tears fell, “Everything hurts. Just breathing is hurting and I feel like I am losing my mind.”

“Vidu,” he said, kneeling on the sticky floor next to her, “My head isn’t a pleasant place right now either, but we can share what we feel. We can be honest and admit we are scared to each other can’t we?”

“Why Abram?” Her moist eyes stared at him. “Why did you bring us here?” Vedika said, not looking at him. A sharp wail came from Vedika and she turned over as if holding herself together. Abram moved to her side and failed to control his own tears as he held her hands.

Abram didn’t for one moment believe that an actual demon tortured his daughter’s soul. He refused to believe such an absurd idea. Though he felt as if it was his fault. That he should have protected his family better. Yet he knew that such kind of self doubt had the potential to kill those who believed it, and it could make one question everything about oneself.

He nodded and swallowed and gave a tired shake of his head. “We’re both messed up right now. But we have to push through this. By knowing its going to be hard. Knowing that it’s fine to feel sad about it and have tiresome days, but to keep going, because that’s what will help us get out of this. We do this Vedika, and we do it together,” he stressed.

Vedika tried to say something but stopped as if her lips were frozen into immobility.

“Vidu…I am flooded by guilt. But right now I am just thinking about our daughter. Please do not judge me like this. The horrible tearing wound of your grief makes its presence felt as if it is a crime to forget, even for just a second, that I am responsible for robbing the innocence of our darling daughter.”

A loud tapping on the door startled them.

Abram turned around in a panic. Was Amira doing it again?

The tapping grew impatient. It came from the front door. Bhuva? May be he has returned. Abram clenched his jaw, he made up his mind to confront the demented priest once and for all.

Abram motioned Vedika to wait for him and rushed towards the front door and pulled it open.

Mangatram stood by the gate.

Abram stared at Mangatram, his face white as the fresh fall of snow. It was obvious that Mangatram’s sudden visit made him anxious.

“Wrong place at a wrong time, I suppose?” Mangatram’s lips twitched slightly in a grin.

“What do you want?”

“I was just passing by. I thought it would be a good idea to meet your wife and daughter.”

“Please spare us tonight.”

Abram tried to shut the door, but Mangatram put his foot in and blocked his attempt.

Mangatram lifted his head and saw Vedika standing beside them.

Abram turned and motioned Vedika to go upstairs. Vedika hesitated for a moment. Then with scorn on her face, she moved away from them and walked up a flight of stairs till she reached a landing. She paused and turned to notice Mangatram had been watching her the whole time. For a moment she stood there like a stone statue, then she turned and disappeared into Amira’s room.

“I see that you are not pleased to see me.”

“What brings you here?”

“Well, the cause of the doctor’s death is clear,” Mangatram said with dry understatement, “Like I said, I am here to speak to your wife and daughter.”

“They are in no condition at this time especially after his death to register much beyond their own grief.”

Mangatram gave him an impassive look, “I’m afraid I need to record their statements. They were with him till his end.”

Abram wanted to resist. He felt as if he was descending into insanity or being surrounded by inexplicable demons that wouldn’t seem to leave him alone. Now, he just didn’t care.

He was more concerned about how Vedika or Amira would react when infested with Mangatram’s suspicious thoughts.

“Listen, I don’t have anything to hide, and if there is a question over the doctor’s death, I think I too would like to get this sorted out as soon as possible. As you know my wife and daughter are still … struggling. I should be with them.”

“I know! Everything sounds so weird, isn’t it? On top of it things are beginning to get even more intense,” Mangatram said with an ominous voice. He inched closer, “I’m not placing them under arrest. I just want to ask them some questions.”

Just then, something rattled upstairs in Amira’s room. Startled, Abram ran upstairs followed by Mangatram.

“Amira? Vedika?”

When they reached upstairs they found a very worried-looking Vedika, kneeling next to her daughter. Their sudden appearance followed by an aggressive knock on the door startled her. She froze as she watched them approach, blinking slowly and tilting her head slightly. She looked terrified.

Tears rolled down from Vedika’s face. She dropped to her knees and clutched Amira’s hands. She was sobbing.

Mangatram wanted to peek into the room, but could not see much since Abram’s frame blocked his view. He could only the see outline of sobbing Vedika. “Ahh, a mother’s love and guilt, almost as good as child-like innocence,” Mangatram thought to himself. He stood near the door, stupefied.

Mangatram tried to move forward, but Abram stopped him in his tracks.

“I told you she is unwell,” Abram protested. He stared at Vedika, but he could tell she didn’t really see him. She looked drugged, her black hair, darker and slicked to her head.

Mangatram pursed his lips and thought for a moment, “What happened to her?” he whispered before strolling towards the stairs.

“She is ill.” Abram led the way towards the stairs, but Mangatram stopped in the narrow passage and turned back to examine Amira’s room with interest.

“Can I see your daughter?”Mangatram’s eyes wore a concerned look, “Just to check on her health,” he quickly added.

“You think questioning a sick girl will help? Didn’t you see the condition of my wife? You seem pretty desperate to put the blame on me.”

“Look where are you going with this, Mr Abram?” Mangatram squinted his eyes,

“Tell me Mr Abram. What you don’t want me to know.”

“What would you like to know?” Abram replied, feeling frustrated. He clenched his jaw, “She is… I mean…look, at this moment she needs help.”

Mangatram nodded, taking out his pack of bidi and lighting one. “I can help you only if you help me.” Mangatram looked directly at him, eyes piercing and intent. “I counted the wounds on the doctor’s body. It certainly wasn’t a way to die, yet no one saw anything, no one heard him scream as he plunged to his death. I can’t help but feel that the two deaths in your basement are somehow connected, however accidental they may seen.”

“And you appear to be focused on me. Why?”

Mangatram blew smoke out of his nose, “I’m struggling to understand that. But yes, I have a theory. You seem to be having a misfortune. Quite the string of unfortunate events. First the mason dies, then your daughter gets a mysterious disease, which no one else catches, and I might add, the one who tried to cure her is stabbed a hundred times. All I can see is people seem to be dying all around you.”

“What are you accusing me of?” Abram said, feeling his temper rise and unable to control it, “You think I had anything to do with any of that? That I am a murderer of the worst kind?”

“I’ve seen people do terrible things for less motivation than whatever you might have. Yet all these things have only one thing that connects them … You. My gut tells me that somehow you’re involved-”

“You’ve judged me already. You think I killed the people who came to help me?” Something inside Abram snapped at that point. Weeks of stress and grief compiled till he saw red. “Go to hell.”

Suddenly they heard the noises of piteous distress from Amira’s room.

Vedika screamed.

Mangatram rushed towards Amira’s room. The adrenaline rush made his muscles spasm. What he saw made his head spin. Gradually details resolved into focus. The small arms and legs that protruded from the bed were black with insect bodies. Clouds of flies, their wings iridescent swarmed all around, every inch of the exposed body was covered in a thick carpet of crawling creatures. The dullness of the skin, with the glowing red veins was filled with the moving maggots. The skin still looked blackened and split as if burnt by great heat. At first he did not know what the shapeless lump was till it resolved into focus. Beneath the carpet of insects lay a small body. A mouth, moving, insects diving in and out of it in a frenzy and a horrible death rattle breathing combined with the buzz of insects that drove into her head like a high-pitched drill.

Mangatram felt striated grey and black clouds whip past overhead and the wind howled as if the air roared through his teeth.

Mangatram didn’t want to turn his back on the object that lay in front of him, but the view he’d had of the bed with what first looked like black sticks jutting out from the bed… he realised were the little girl’s arms and legs. The thought of what she must be going through threatened to tear his sanity apart.

Abruptly Amira pulled the blanket away.

Mangatram stood shocked. There it was, right inside her leg, a wriggling of maggots worming their way through her bloodied skin. He couldn’t believe it.

Suddenly the girl just laughed, “I wish you could experience the ecstasy of being devoured . I am sure you can taste the fear from there. The maggots slowly devouring me, crawling inside the breaks in my skin feels so delicious.”Amira’s head spun as she lifted it from the sticky cushion and ran down her neck like a wet tongue. She proceeded to vomit a sort of green liquid on the bed, which emanated caustic fumes.

Mangatram, despite his toughness, covered his mouth, gagging, as he witnessed Amira eagerly bend and gobble down the rancid mucous, which was corrosive enough to burn anything it came in contact with.

“If this were the real world she’d be dead by now. I have struggled to keep her alive in this state for a long time. Move away”, Abram said coming up behind him. His large hand gripped his shoulder and pulled him roughly back, rushing towards his wife.

“Oh my God!” Vedika cupped her mouth as Amira slowly pulled her hand away from her lips. Her worst fears were confirmed. She watched in horror as Amira stood on all fours, and lifted her head up.

She glared at them with lifeless eyes.

Vedika darted towards Amira. Mangatram tried to stop her, but somehow she derived unknown strength and pushed him with all her might nearly toppling him. “Oh God no!” she cried. The thought of the unknown monster doing that to her little girl, and the sight of her half rotten and mangled yet still alive state of her daughter caused her to panic. Her voice carried a kind of morose, despondent quality that was depressing.

Amira clenched her fist at Vedika who shielded her head with a sway for her arm, but Amira’s claws succeeded in scratching her skin.

Vedika shrieked. She heard Amira mumble something in a language she did not understand.

“Abram…help me.”

Abram rushed towards her, looking for something to stop the pain and panic attack that gripped his family.

Vedika scrubbed Amira’s skin as if she could banish the maggots crawling through her veins, her lips mumbled “get out, get out” as if the words would help expel the filth from inside her daughter. The floor of the room ran with slimy pieces of vomit in her hair that she did not know about. “Stop it, stop torturing her! Why are you doing this?” Vedika cried, turning around to look at Mangatram who stood dumbfounded in the distance and almost lost his balance in an attempt to hurry, “She doesn’t deserves this.”As she battled to shake the maggots off, she slapped her hand violently, repulsed at the dangerous strange sensation crawling through her.

“Oh my God,“Abram sounded horrified as he held and steadied Amira’s leg on the bed, tears flowing through his quivering lips.

The maggots moved swiftly through the flesh as if hell-bent on devouring everything in their path. Amira’s leg was a mess. Confused at where to start, Abram grabbed the maggots with his hands, and pulled them out forcefully, tearing through Amira’s skin and eliciting Amira’s painful groans.

Mangatram was stupefied. He was shell-shocked at the sight he was witnessing. It seemed there was nothing left of his legs except bones and blood. His breathing was laboured, and he looked like someone whose life was draining away quickly. He was scared but didn’t know how best to approach the grieving parents and their diseased daughter.

“Help me,” Abram screamed as Amira struggled to wriggle out of his hands.

Mangatram ran unsteadily towards him, but before reaching the bed he heaved everything out, as if feeling a powerful need to purge everything inside him. His eyes darted over Abram, confusion plastered all over his face.

* * *

Mangatram shook his head trying to process what he saw. A cold sick sensation developed in the pit of his stomach. They sat in the kitchen after Amira plunged into deep sleep.

“The little girl keeps crying and screaming every night. Every moment is turning out to be worse than the previous one.” Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Abram spoke as he pushed a cup of coffee towards Mangatram.

A few minutes of uncomfortable silence lingered over them.

“What happened to your daughter?” Finally Mangatram spoke, his voice was genuinely kind and concerned.

“Look, there is no time to explain. She is sick,” Abram said, “You’ve got to help me. Help me, please!”

“How?”

“I need to get her out of here while I still can.”

Mangatram frowned slightly while in thought.

“I…I want you to take Amira and Vedika to the hospital.” Silent tears pregnant with fear threatened to dribble down Abram’s cheeks.

“Excuse me?”

“I am sorry. I seem to have upset you,” Abram said, getting to his feet and looking around, “But I need to sort out this mess, and I have to do it myself.”

Mangatram felt Abram’s voice carried a frightening sound of moronic degeneracy that sent shivers up his spine.

" Easy for you to say, Abram-”

Abram raised his hands in the air and pretended to walk around the room and when he was behind Mangatram, who still sat on the chair, he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, picked him up and twisted his arm.

“Wh..what are you doing?” Mangatram tried to loosen himself but found Abram much stronger than him.

”I am sick of you. I can snap your neck like a twig. Do you hear me?” Abram had the look of a maniac in his eyes. I don’t care how sick you are because I can get much sicker than you!”

“Mr Abram, I know my time of death will come one day. Though I am not prepared to die, I am also not afraid. Anyway this life has not brought much happiness.”

Still holding Mangatram’s hand on his back, he gave him a quick spin, and then he pulled him back, looked him straight in his black, calm eyes and seized him by the throat.

Mangatram stood still. He didn’t fight at all. Hi hands were down and still. When his face started turning red, as well as his whites, Abram freaked out. He never choked a person before.

“We are all so exhausted and stressed.” Abram let go of Mangatram and dropped on his knees and began sobbing.

Seeing a grown man cry like a child is always a gruesome sight. Mangatram thought.

“Mr Abram. Calm down. We will find a way.”

Abram beat his fists against the floor, “Can’t you see my daughter is sick? Didn’t you see the beads of blood swelling up from her skin? Still it doesn’t release the pain inside you?” He got to his feet, mucous and tears running down his face.

“Let me see what I can do.”

“Please!” Abram stared hard at Mangatram for a long moment, then heaved heavily.

“The villagers fear you and your family like plague. The superstitious demon rules their mind, and these are not the people you want to mess with. What you are suggesting is enough to provoke them-”

“I just want to save my family!”

“This will only make matters worse. Every single person in the village is baying for your blood.”

“My daughter…,” Abram flashed his hand in the face of Mangatram, tears fell on his clenched fists and he closed his eyes, “Her hands are black and swollen to twice their normal size. Her feet are the same, swollen into shapeless black masses of corruption.”

Mangatram opened his lips as if to say something, but remained silent.

Rage, like a dark, unstoppable tidal wave enveloped Abram. He felt himself shouting yet did not know the words he used to express his overwhelming anger. Panting, he turned to the only thing in the room on which he could vent his anger.The first chair snapped two of its legs as he smashed it against the wall before he took the remaining pieces of it and crashed them into the floor, scoring the thick concrete.

He destroyed the chair before slumping down against the wall, holding his head in his hands, panting and crying from the exertion.

’Abram!” The sound of Vedika reverberated through the house.

“Vedika!” Abram jumped up and strode out of the room.

Mangatram felt bad for not helping Abram. Yet, a long time ago, before he became a heartless old block that he presently was, he used to be such a nice person that everyone around the village loved. He was always nice to everyone irrespective of their position, race or nature. And for that, he had a good reputation by every possible standard.

Mangatram was appointed as constable due to his experience in the army. He also operated a small shop in the village. He and his wife were a childless couple, hence often he used to distribute free chocolates to the poor children in the village. He wasn’t doing the business to fend for his needs, but he was doing this so that he could take care of the people that he loved so much. But his wife was unhappy, despite living a comfortable life, there was another side of hers that wasn’t too happy. At some point, it seemed as though she was having a very difficult time getting to accept the fact that even after being married to her husband for over a decade, it was still impossible for her to have children. Being childless was considered as a social stigma in the village. She was taunted behind her back by the village women. That was the way of most things in the village.

Her depression set in and she began to dream that she was pregnant with a child. She used to sit up, and stare endlessly into the emptiness. Her mouth angled down as her thoughts crowded her mind. They were dark and dangerous. Her face was tearless but her heart pounded with fears of her dreams being fake. She soon began to wonder if she was pregnant at all.

Gradually the madness took over. She began spending her time in temples, started feeding black dogs to ward off evil and finally she gave up eating as a penance. She fell ill from which she never recovered.

This shattered Mangatram. For a while he was depressed, but with the help of his close friends, he decided to move on from that blow that life and fate had joined hands and dealt her. But one day he overheard people talking about him behind his back.

Mangatram wasn’t the kind of person who got moved by gossip easily. But it wasn’t every day that one stumbles upon people talking behind one’s back on a daily basis. He decided to eavesdrop and hear what they were saying. And as expected, nothing pleasant came from them. They regarded him as a curse and held him responsible for his wife’s death.

This affected Mangatram to the point where for about three months, he just ate and slept. But with the support of some friends, he began recuperating . Some people were genuinely happy for him. They all came to visit her during his sickness but he didn’t want to talk to any of them. Unknowingly he turned into something else.

But he was thoroughly shaken after looking at Amira.

A faint sound of footsteps echoed in Mangatram’s ears. Mangatram’s nostrils were filled with the odour of decomposing flesh. He could hear the wails of the ghouls. Abruptly he turned, and in a flash of a moment he thought a saw a a grotesque figure of a small girl, holding a stuffed mouse beside him. She had no eyes, no nose and no mouth. Her head was half opened and maggots crawled out of it, dripping all over the floor. Suddenly, the stuffed mouse in the girl’s hands came alive. It pointed to Mangatram and screamed.

Mangatram’s heart pounded wildly against his chest. A door slammed violently somewhere at the back of the house. There was a stale, acrid smell in the room.

For a moment Mangatram thought he was going to faint. He rose quickly from the chair, and was about to yell, then Abram entered.

“What is it?” Abram asked, ” What’s wrong with you?” He was startled to see Mangatram’s face white with shock.

There was something feral about the expression on Mangatram’s face that shocked him.

“I don’t know. Mr. Abram, I save lives with what I do. Yet sometimes I have to be rough because I don’t want any other families to go through what you are. We have to stop this in its tracks before others die.”

Abram felt his attitude towards Mangatram change. He looked at him questioningly.

“If we ignore other people’s pain, it’s hard to be there when we’re really hurting,” Mangatram said flicking the ash off his bidi,“ Let’s take your daughter to the hospital. Now!”

* * *

“Go.” Abram, teary eyed, bid goodbye to his wife and daughter.

“I am worried sick about you. Please come with us. I don’t want to leave you here.” Vedika’s eyes were watering.

“Hey, I am all right.” Abram felt like a complete wreck yet he remained calm. Watching Vedika cry filled him with an overwhelming grief. I think this is something I have to do myself Vedika. He thought to himself.

”Abram, its dangerous out here.” Vedika browsed his face in the hope of finding a positive response.

Amira let out a painful and muffled scream and tried to free herself from the bounds, but they were too tight for her feeble hands to break free. She kicked the door so hard to the point that they suspected she would give up their location.

It didn’t take long for Abram and Mangatram to bound Amira’s hands and legs. She babbled incoherent words and hissed at them constantly. Sometimes the voice sounded like whispers while at others it appeared as a roar of a madman.

At night the house looked like one those old buildings whose old walls were filled with undergrowth all the way up the top. The trees from the nearby forest looked like silhouettes of ghosts that refused to leave them alone. As they walked slowly across the overgrown grass, Mangatram kept on stealing glances over his shoulder to make sure that some evil entity wasn’t following them.

They heard footsteps and turned to face Mangatram.

“We must hurry,” Mangatram said as his voice met deathly silence and faint howling of dogs, “we are on our own for this night. We don’t want to awake the locals who, given the circumstances, are more than willing to kill for what they consider as dangerous trespass.”

Abram nodded. His hands were trembling with anxiety as he tried to comfort Vedika. He felt, with recent events, Mangatram agreeing to help was a bright little spot in a series of horrible incidences.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Right now we must worry about getting to the hospital. You can thank me later, once your daughter recovers.”

Mangatram pulled out a pack of bidi and took one out before he offered the pack to Abram who shakily reached out to take one. Mangatram lit both bidis and exhaled a stream of smoke towards the sky. He simply waited, not saying anything as Abram took a huge drag and coughed.

“Th-thank you,” Abram said as looked around. At night the house looked like one those old buildings whose old walls were filled with undergrowth all the way up the top. The trees from the nearby forest looked like silhouettes of ghosts that refused to leave them alone. “We’re, uh, we came here to spend some wonderful time in this beautiful village. We’re sorry if we’ve caused any trouble.”

“No. No trouble at all. I am sure you never intended any harm intentionally.”

“I came here to live my memories, but-”

“The locals here have a disregard for modernity. That explains why they treated your family as some sort of invaders.”

Abram peeked through the door and saw Amira already passed out from the pain, a goo mixture of blood and liquid matter dripping from body. He could smell the staunch smell of decomposing flesh from her. And that made him feel even more scared.

Abram felt that the language barrier between them was thick, but Mangatram did not bother asking for clarification when he didn’t understand something he had said. Abram presumed that while part of Mangatram wanted to help out of kindness, it was partly to satiate his curiosity about Amira’s mysterious illness.

Mangatram pointed his head towards Vedika.

“She is internalising her grief. The way she tries to keep emotions bottled up inside, it will poison her.”

“I know. Can you give us two minutes, please?” Abram said taking a lungful of smoke.

’Sure.” Mangatram nodded his head while walking towards the car.

Abram stubbed out his half-smoked bidi as Vedika approached him.

He felt so helpless as he heard Vedika’s heart breaking. Her wails of grief and pain were the echo of his own as silent tears ran down his face. Vedika hugged him tight as if hollowed out by the emotion and him embracing her, feeling useless, grieving and trying to be strong for his wife. For what seemed like hours they remained in that position,

“You must remain strong to watch our daughter.”

“I feel horribly guilty.”

“Hey, our daughter still has things to learn. We want her to experience new things that might bring happiness into her world. Don’t we?”

Vedika tried to smile, to recapture some of the warm feelings she’d felt for a moment when Abram held her within the circle of his arms, yet failed. She could feel the moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes and knew that once she started she wouldn’t stop for a while.

“You know I’m actually amazed you can remain calm.”

Abram looked genuinely upset about it, closing his eyes for a moment and taking a calming breath.

Vedika realized her mistake. No. This was Abram, her husband and the love of her life, the father of her child. That thought made the whirlwind of emotion in her head freeze to a halt and she couldn’t stop the tears from rising.

“Hey,” Abram hugged her, rubbing a hand down her arm. “I know that this is difficult. We’re doing everything we can to help our daughter survive this.”

Vedika stared at him with affection. She knew he grieved for Amira, he just did it in his own way.

Abram heard the car start. Mangatram waved his hand and asked them to hurry.

Though Vedika was nowhere near excited to be willing to drive alone to the city Abram convinced her otherwise.

“Hurry! I know that this is difficult. “Stop overthinking potential scenarios. Just focus on our daughter. I will join you soon.” Abram gently pushed Vedika in the car and shut the door.

Mangatram kicked his foot on the brakes as the wheels screeched against the asphalt.

* * *

Abram stood outside the house. From where he stood, he could see a clear outline of the village. The locals lived quite primitively, it was evident from the houses, many of whom had a roof made entirely of hay, out of which a chimney protruded with swaying smoke running out of it. There was no flooring; the walls were built straight on the natural terrain.

Once the car disappeared from his view Abram walked back into the house. He opened the door, dropped his keys on the table, pulled off his jacket, and stood in the room. He had been waiting for this moment. It was the only way he was going to find out whether Vedika’s memory displays were real. As for Amira his mind searched for a logical explanation that blamed it on someone trying to trick them, but it all went beyond science.

He stood there, questioning everything he thought he knew. For the first time he wondered if faith would be able to preserve him from becoming irrational and hysterical.

The lights oddly flickered, he felt an eerie sensation. He felt like he was being watched. He also thought he heard a faint noise but discarded it as his imagination. As he walked towards his room he heard raindrops tapping on the window pane.

As Abram entered his room he was flooded with memories of his family. What was his family being punished for?His thoughts overshadowed the pain that he was feeling. His tears hung on the edge of his eyes, blurring his vision. He closed his eyes and saw Amira crying for help. “Amira, my child.” He waved his hands in the air as her figure dissipated into the abyss of nothing.

The memory of Amira filled his thoughts and he realized that everything began in basement. Bhuva must have gone towards the basement. In the room, his eye caught an open drawer in the dresser across the room. He tried gently pulling it open, but it was stuck. He used both of his hands to yank it open.

He rummaged through the drawer and snatched a torch and made sure it was working before tucking it in the back of his pants.

Abram stood for a few moments and observed the room. Without his wife and daughter the house appeared soulless. Abram’s thoughts were full to the brim with everything foul his family had experienced in the house.

Abram had a strange feeling that something was still missing, like a piece of puzzle had gone unnoticed. Though he had been indefatigable in trying to put all the pieces together, in a way, he felt as though he had failed.

The pattering rain gradually grew into a rainstorm outside.

Abram stepped out of the room, and took one last look behind before he proceeded forward towards the stairs.

The sound of dogs barking echoed in the distance.

Abram took careful, slow steps towards the basement, his grim face wet with sweat. The broken basement door appeared terrifying in the dark. It was the same basement that was responsible for claiming lives, and possibly more.

Somewhere the lightning struck as if to indicate the aggression of the rain storm.

Abram peered at the environment cautiously. He didn’t want to risk finding himself in the barricade of seemingly possessed people encircling him. Now he realised why his and Vedika’s perspectives of the house were different. He could see a glimpse of the house’s true form.

Everything pertaining to Abram’s survival instinct told him not to go in there, but he didn’t have a choice. Sighing, he took one last look behind before he proceeded forward. He hurriedly browsed through the thick walls, looking for a light switch. He knew he needed better lighting to see the situations in the right perspective. For a while he saw nothing till his sweeping hand located a switch. Relieved, he turned it on. A brief crackle followed and the basement remained enveloped in darkness.

Abram sighed. He carefully alighted the stairs of the dreaded basement. He was shocked to see broken steps with wide gaps in the middle. He leaped where there were gaps, till he made it safely to the ground. The cloud of dust formed wherever his feet landed.

Abram flashed the torchlight through the dark and desolate underground revealing the squalid state of the place. He swung his torchlight so as not to be caught unaware by some terrifying force. He could see nothing but blackness. He paid scant attention to the abandoned materials that littered the basement.

Abram felt the presence of a foreign energy. It was hypnotic in a way that made his curiosity counterbalance his fears.

The basement made him question what he saw, making it what he thought he saw.

Abram peered around the basement cautiously. Suddenly he heard something rustling behind one of the wooden boards. A rat? But it wasn’t squealing. Abram slowly paced towards the wooden board and gave it one hard kick. A black furry rat screeched, leaping from the wooden board and sprinted across the room.

He gulped in a lungful of rotten air and stepped forward, deeper into the basement.

All the walls smelled of decay, and the smell of dust was more overwhelming. It was as though the stench was more intense where foul memories had been made. Vedika was right! She was telling him bits and pieces of everything though it didn’t make much sense due to her sporadic explanations.

Abram could physically hear voices in his head. He felt his personality was consumed by the people who once lived there. The air was filled with rancid moisture, a smell that penetrated his skin and made his body scent amalgamate with the distinct stench of the basement.

The torch flickered as he moved stealthily in the basement which saw no end.

Abram smacked the torch to try and get the flashlight to work again, but to no avail.

As he lifted his eyes from the torch he heard the loud bang of the slamming door. As he spun around, his surroundings dwindled into nothingness. He felt floating in the pitch black abyss. The violent breeze must have pushed the door shut.

Abram couldn’t stop himself from quivering. He walked further and saw what seemed like a huge hole in the wall. Strange. He hadn’t noticed this before. He thought to himself as he proceeded towards it.

He knelt and ducked to enter the hole. It looked like a small room. The entire room was covered in a thick layer of dust which tickled his nostrils and made him sneeze every few seconds.

The dank, putrid stench inside was unbearable.

Abram covered his nose with his sleeve and could still feel he was inhaling the stench even when he breathed through his mouth. Somehow, it was much worse that way.

The walls looked as if they were painted with blood. His eyes darted over the contents of the room. The room was probably used for performing some sort of rituals.

He took measured steps towards the altar.

The closer he got to the altar, the more rancid the stench became. He gasped in the caustic air in the square stone room and coughed aggressively enough to feel as though he was disgorging his insides, with his hands on his knees.

The silence in the stone chamber grew heavier the longer he was in there.

Abram threw the light on the broken altar and saw a pentagram drawn around it. Cautiously, he rubbed his foot against it as if to check if it could be wiped out. The pentagram went ablaze with blue flames. The effulgence of the blue flames were blinding. He squinted and shielded his eyes with his forearm, while hiding his wandering gaze as he desperately searched for the safest way to run.

Abram thought he saw a pair of eyes following him from the left corner.

Coughing, he stumbled out of the room.

Abram smacked the flashlight hard. To his relief the flashlight turned on. He stood flabbergasted at the sight he saw before him.

Abram’s eyes fell on the frame of a man whose dead body lay on the floor. His battered body was a relic of what it used to be.

Abram summoned his courage and proceeded cautiously.

Bhuva?

Bhuva’s body was completely maimed. It was a body of bones with no flesh, lying on a blood-soaked concrete carpet with eyeballs, ears, and blobs of flesh lying forgotten on the ground. Black moths flapped out of his mouth. Bhuva’s dead body seemed to accuse him as it lay in the dried pool of blood. The vacant unseeing eyes of the dead exorcist seemed to look through him.The one thing that seemed stamped in his brain was the smell of death. As long as he lived, he would never forget it.

Abram could feel his pulsating, He frantically peered around only to be greeted with deathly silence. He threw the light on Bhuva in the hope of finding him alive. Bhuva’s body was filled with scratch marks that barely dug farther than two millimetres and was filled with clumps of fur.

Suddenly he heard something. He strained his ears. It sounded like Amira’s voice. Like a deranged person, he began to scream her name. His daughter was in danger.

Suddenly he felt a throbbing pain in his head. He could hear whispers in his head, they were mellow at first, but they increased with intensity as if complementing Amira’s agonising screams.

He flashed his torchlight in the direction of the voice, but the voice didn’t seem to come from the basement, it came from under it where he stood.

The voices in his head seemed to derive a sort of savage satisfaction from his helplessness.

Abram stumbled. His eyes darted in the basement. He took a look around the room, everything upset him, his brain was clouded with anger and hatred. His eyes fell on the black mass of iron that was shielded by clusters of concrete. He quickly jumped and pulled it. A sledgehammer. “My baby! Do not worry. I am coming!” The voices in his head became more savage.

With a loud shriek, he raised the sledgehammer into the air and brought it down upon the concrete with a loud thud. One! Two! Three! Four! Five! He repeated this action over and over. As he smashed, he heard the sound of bones cracking underneath.

Bhuva’s dead body squished and oozed. The bones that had started to become very brittle broke into fine pieces under his assault. “I will save you! I swear I will!” The screams grew louder as he swung the sledgehammer wildly with all his might. The dead body turned into a disgusting paste while he kept smashing and grinding. Blood and gore splattered on his face and clothes. He did not stop till the body was a sticky puddle of flesh, bones, muscle, and blood.

Suddenly Abram hit something solid. The force was so great that he flung hard against the wall of the basement. He slid to the floor and froze. The sharp end of the rusted nail hovered dangerously above his eye as if it was deliberately aiming to gouge his eyes out.

Abram’s hands fumbled in the dark. With trembling hands he picked up the torchlight. Besides damaging the old furniture and decomposing walls, he was shocked to see that he had reduced Bhuva’s skeleton to pulp.

What have I done?

Abram collapsed on the ground again. He felt like a murderer. His clothes were black and wet with sweat, and his heart pounded wildly against his chest. He managed to get to his feet. His legs felt like lead as he dragged himself to where Bhuva lay.

He wanted to tell Bhuva how sorry he was and that whatever happened, it was not of his fault. He felt the basement pulsating with shadows trying to force their way inside him.

Flashes of reminiscence crossed Abram’s mind. His daughter’s memory plagued him. His fingers shook violently as he struggled to make sense of what had just happened.

Suddenly the basement door swung with a loud thud and shrieks of laughter resounded all around him.

“What do you want?” Abram screamed at emptiness, he had the look of a psychotic person in his eyes, angry lines of weariness and faintness splayed on his face. He tried to fight it for a while, but his thoughts quickly began to play games with his awareness that filled him with pain.

However, the pain began to build up in his head again. It seemed the voice revelled in savagely torturing him. With a burst of maniacal laughter, he began to wreck everything else in the room. He held the sledgehammer with his two hands and he started swinging it around. It hit one of the pillars holding the basement up and it began to crumble. The basement was full of knick-knacks from life with his beloved family. Seeing them filled him with rage and he smashed an old wooden cupboard. It didn’t crumble immediately and he began to swing the hammer with more force. He hit it until it broke into pieces and then he smashed every single piece until wood dust filled the air.

Panting like a hell-hound he looked around, and then he laughed. At first it was a discreet laugh; one could barely hear it. Then, the volume went up; at the end he was laughing hysterically. Abruptly, from that laughter he went straight in to crying. Tears ran down his face in streams and he was repeating: “Amira, my baby… Vedika… “ And then, he collapsed on his knees overwhelmed with pain.

Then he heard it again. This time Amira’s voice came from the walls of the ritual room. He waited for a brief, terrifying moment before rushing into the room.

Abram’s eyes frantically searched for Amira. But there was no sign of her. He could only hear her soft giggling. As his confusion continued, he heard a loud screeching sound as if someone was dragging a dead body.

He rushed out of the room.

Then he saw it. A rat. It was feasting on Bhuva’s remnants.

It happened so quickly. As if it wasn’t afraid of him it writhed viciously, exposing it’s deadly incisors and dashed towards him. Then it stuck. It bared it’s sharp teeth and bit hard on his left arm.

Abram groaned, an agonising one that rang through the basement. His eyes looked like they were about to pop-out. He looked straight into the eyes of the beast that was trying to devour his arm. The rat’s pointed mouth and his long whiskers were bloody. Its muzzle was bloodstained as it chewed the lump of flesh. He could clearly see it’s small, but sharp teeth taking small, but painful bites. The muscles around the place it was biting were twitching and trembling.

“Get Off!” he yelled, feeling a stab of fear and thrashing with his arms, trying to get the weight of it’s small frame from his arm .Abram swung his hand and smashed it on the floor. His breath whooshed from his lungs and he struggled to inhale.

Abram’s right arm fumbled in the dark, it found an empty bottle lying among the dump. The rat felt the danger coming his way and he tore Abram’s flesh in the way that a large part of skin was left hanging from his upper arm. Suddenly the bottle flew through the air. It landed on the beast’s torso, also hitting the wall, and it broke. The rat wasn’t moving any more, but it was obvious that it was still alive. Its short legs were twitched, its eyes were opened and it was fighting for breath. It was opening and closing its bloody mouth.

Abram got up and slowly walked to the place where the rat was lying. His black eyes looked like there was a storm inside of them. After looking at it for a few seconds, he raised his right leg and stepped on him so violently and strongly, that the rat’s body exploded under his bare foot. He lifted his foot and saw that it’s eyes were hanging from the small skull. There was something coming out from his mouth which looked like semi-digested flesh from his arm, and guts were coming out from the crack on the bottom part of the small body.

Abram almost vomited. He wanted to scream, to cry, but he felt deprived of emotional expression. He felt the pain growing into a ball of mordant flames inside him.

“My family loved me and gave me everything. Yet I am a cripple. I am not even alive. I never was. I am a coward. I am the worst possible human being who failed to save his daughter.”

Abram felt that his nerves were on the verge of breaking with no way back to sanity. He leaned on the wall behind him, imagining his happy family.

Then something came over him. He saw Bhuva’s crushed body. His eyes twitched and became bloody. He felt something strange was happening in his perception of everything that was in the room.

He stood and sat in the corner diagonally from Bhuva’s corpse. He felt strangely energetic. He twisted and peeked out of a half-closed eye at the warm red carpet of black, frozen blood around the body. He gloried in the powerful emotion as unholy thoughts of vengeance on the one responsible for taking away the pain grew.

“You came to hurt my daughter? huh?” He clenched his teeth. Things changed in his soul and brain. He opened eyes he did not possess, clenched fists that were non-existent in this realm of reality. Frustration burned inside him afresh as he struggled to understand.He could sense something powerful that he shied away from.

The next moment he recoiled back and looked around in confusion.

He remembered the room he was in but not the contents. He heard screams inside his head.

Abram saw Bhuva desperately trying to crawl towards the stairs. “Wait,” he reached out an arm to help him, but Bhuva hefted a chisel and heavy hammer and slammed a chisel through Abram’s wrist and drove it deep into the stone.

Abram screamed and began to cough and choke on his own blood.

Abram let out another painful yell, an agonizing one that rang through the basement. He fell helplessly on the floor as thick, black blood poured furiously from his arm.

Bhuva came onto him, his sharp nails protruded through Abram’s neck. Abram gurgled and twitched violently. Blood from his neck wound seeped furiously into his clothes. “I am…ju..just…trying to…help.” Abram stammered. The next moment Bhuva thrust the chisel forcefully into Abram’s belly busting his intestines out, spilling on the floor.

“I should have never listened to you.” Abram wailed.

Abram coughed, the sound slowly turned into a whimper. From within the shadows of the room Abram could hear the distant sounds of soul-rending screams and the unmistakable sensation of hostile eyes upon him. From directly behind he felt a heavy breath across the back of his neck as if someone stood there, he glanced around, breathing heavily, despite the smell that turned his stomach.

Abram hesitated and in that moment he saw a clawed and monstrous hand move into his vision. He could see the tiniest of reflections, distorted by sudden tears, the sniffing of the air, the licking of lips and the showing of pointed teeth.

Everything around him looked black and encrusted with filth and rank-smelling soot.

Suddenly Abram saw the face of his daughter appear, twisted into agony beyond words as if held still alive, just below the surface of the skin.

Abram could hear infernal screams in his head. He rose and stumbled down the long dark passage of the basement. The inside of the basement appeared like a labyrinth of mazes. The more he tried to run, the more he missed it.

Abram flopped down on the ground, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He lay still on the ground, staring into the blinding darkness, the decaying smell assaulting his senses. He felt as if the demonic basement mocked him for his helplessness.

Abram held his head in his hands. His body was hot and something seemed to be screaming inside his head. The pulse inside his head throbbed with the violence of a hammer beat and his body was a blaze of fire. He knelled, like he was praying, and stared at the ground. His eyes were stuck like that for more than a few minutes. Abram wasn’t sure how long he sat on the floor. There was some part of him that wanted to run away, yet he couldn’t. He sat against the wall, covered in blood. His eyes stared at the darkness that hovered around him. Every once in a while, Abram mumbled to himself. At one point, he even wrapped his arms around his knees, rocking back and forth. It had been something he’d done when he was a child, but had long grown out of. Now, he was doing it once more, humming to himself as he did so.

A figure appeared in the dark.

He squinted his eyes to make sure it was not one of his hallucinations. It was him!

Suddenly he saw something shift out of the shadows. He looked closer. It was the face of the woman. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t remember her. She was walking towards him, but her gait was broken. As she came closer, he saw that she had no teeth as she smiled, her throat torn open and gaping. The cut open skin on her cheeks flapped down, showing the bone beneath her skin. She walked over to him, wrapped her arms around his body. Suddenly she howled releasing the warm, crimson liquid that she held in her mouth. Abram jerked back to pull away, but her head and arms remained wrapped around him while the rest of her body stayed behind. Abram screamed and threw the torso down. The woman’s arms flopped on the floor.

Everything quickly returned to normal as soon as he blinked, though Abram’s hands, shirt, cheeks were covered in fresh blood. Her blood. Instinctively, his hands reached for his face and felt gradual signs of dried scabs on his lips. He pressed his bloody hand to his face, trying to calm himself as best he could. It didn’t work much.

A sickening feeling developed inside him. In a strange way, he felt vile energy coursing through his veins. He smiled to himself and bit hard on his lips till he tasted blood. He did not know why he did this. But he loved the feeling he got from it. He bit harder. Blood began to seep from his lips. The feeling thrilled him. He bit hard on his lips again, much harder this time.

His eyes twitched and became bloody. Strange thoughts took over his perception, the pool of black, frozen blood drove the crunchy sensation in his mouth, but his emotions were mixed.

Strangely, he didn’t feel guilty or ashamed. His perception about things began to change in his soul and brain. For the first time since he stepped into the uncanny house, he felt like he belonged. He belonged within the decomposing walls of a house with a thousand tales to be told. He felt he was guided by the most horrendous thoughts to the darkest parts of the house but he felt no intention of harm.

But the look on his face was that of a happy person. He began whistling, frequently smiling and began singing out aloud. He scattered up the whole place, breaking whatever he could lay his hands on. He felt alive like never before.

Abram heard the wood splinter and crack. Something or somebody was battering the door. He felt as if the door was coming down.

Abram howled. As if a red veil descended over his eyes, he had no idea what he was doing and why? Something inside him wanted to unleashed. Like a madman, he ripped his clothes off his body.

Something inhabited his soul, very fast. The scent of rotten flesh engulfed the room, it was so strong that he could feel it upon his tongue and the back of his throat.

Abram laughed. It was a maniacal laugh.

It took some time for Abram to get up. When he finally did, he was wobbling and looking unstable. His knees were shaking and he had a look of a demented person in his eyes. His legs had never been so shaky. For a man who held himself with confidence, pride, every step had always been purposeful. Now, he was like a child just learning to walk. There was a crazed look in his eyes, drool slipped from the corner of his mouth as he kept mumbling to himself.

The voices in Abram’s head grew louder. He began to claw at his head as if he could peel the voice out. He scratched his head violently and screamed in agony.

Abram began to pace around the pentagram while hitting his head repeatedly with his fists. He stopped pacing and began to bang his fists on the wall. He was sweating violently, and his body was plastered with sweat and blood. The voice in his head seemed to derive a sort of savage satisfaction from his degradation of himself.

Suddenly, he stopped to listen. He could not hear any sound. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the two of them together: Vedika and Amira. They smiled, held out their hands, and welcomed him.

Abram slumped against the wall and closed his eyes.

An old man appeared. His middle body looked as if it had been stitched together, but his insides were still seeping through. The man pointed a finger at him, “You disappointed me, my son.”

The man walked around him. There was a determined look in his eyes. “I asked for the only thing you cared about. Yet, you failed me.”

Abram watched the old man step away from him, his fingertips lingered a moment longer until he was gone.

The old man slowly trudged up the stairs and walked towards Amira’s room. His feet leaving a bloody print as he walked. He pushed open the door. The room was dark, but there was a shape lying on the bed.

Abram felt unease in the pit of his stomach. Something wasn’t right, but he didn’t know what it could possibly be.

Amira lay on the bed. Her throat open and gaping. she had no teeth as she opened her mouth, “Grandpa……”

The old man’s fingers brushed over her hair. His lips found the smooth skin of her forehead, and kissed it softly.

The old man stood, his hand was on his knee, playing with the mess of broken cartilage there: His fingers moved it back and forth, producing a horrific clicking sound that filled Abram’s ears.

The noise invaded Abram’s mind, stealing his sense, replacing it with the cold steel of anger. Rage nearly blackened his vision, and his breathing came out in short, hard gasps.

Suddenly the old man yanked Amira to the ground. Amira fought back against him, pulling at his hands, scratching at his eyes, anything to make the man let go of her. It wasn’t enough to stop him though.

The old man turned and slipped back inside of the room.

“I want my mommy,” Amira cried.

The old man turned and hauled Amira up and made her sit on the bed.

Vedika’s body lay on the floor, the blood that had escaped drying around the edges.

The old man ran a hand over Vedika’s hair, smoothing it down, fixing it neatly. He held up the knife and twisted the point of it on his fingertip. A plump, red bead of blood swelled up which he sucked away quickly. The grin on his face spread like a disease.

The old man ran the edge of the knife down Vedika’s cheek. At first it was a gentle caress of the blade. On the second pass, the knife was sinking into her cheek, slicing the flesh open easily. The man cut both sides of her face, destroyed the smooth skin of her nose, and sliced into her lips.

Beneath the knife, Vedika screamed ceaselessly.

The man pressed the knife against Vedika’s throat. The man pressed down hard on the knife as he drew it across Vedika’s neck. Blood bubbled up quickly, spilling over Vedika’s skin. The red stained the already reddened floor, the spray landing on the man’s face as he leaned in so closely. Vedika’s body twitched as the gurgling sound escaped her lips. She choked back sobs.

Amira dragged herself from the bed, planting her feet on the floor with difficulty. She was shaking, her skin felt clammy from the drying sheen of sweat. Her throat was raw and her hair was a haystack on her head.

A scream ripped from Amira’s throat, shattering the quiet of the night.

A sense of despair crashed down upon Abram and his shoulders slumped.

Abram felt something streaked over his foot and disappear into darkness. A moment later he felt something sharp bit hard into his ankle. An excruciating pain raged across his body. He let out a loud, guttural howl. He fell to the floor and beat his clenched fist hard against the side of his head as the pain drove him frantic. He held his bleeding ankle with his hand, feeling the touch of his warm blood.

Moaning with pain he sat still for a moment. That was when he saw them. It was a swarm of rats. But they were not ordinary rats. They were monstrous with glowing eyes.

The rats rushed towards Abram in a frenzy. Their viciously gleaming eyes and the pattering sounds of their leathery feet coupled with the foul smell of their fur sickened him.

Before he could stand up the rats were onto him. They began clawing and biting him with their sharp teeth and long stained nails. They lumbered themselves onto him, pinning him to the ground, and ravenously burrowing themselves into his flesh.

Abram yelled like a mad man. His hands flailed wildly making futile efforts to fend them off.

Suddenly, a wild fury took hold of Abram. In a blinding rage, he kicked hard. The sleek fur of one became a bloody pulp under his legs.

Like a mad man Abram hoisted himself. He didn’t care about the rats clinging to his body, and gnawing on his flesh. He grabbed one of the rats by it’s neck and tossed it in his mouth, and chewed it’s neck. The rat wriggled vigorously in his mouth. He held it tightly by it’s head, and sunk his thick finger into the fur of the squealing animal and wrung the animal’s head off it’s body.

He almost vomited.

Abram held the dead rat’s body in his hand, crushing it in his palm. Dead tissue is not pink and white and full of vessel and blood like the healthy one; it is dark, almost grey. The rat smelled awful and looked like a road kill; but not to Abram.

Abram began with the intestines. He chewed and swallowed the rat’s insides; smaller bones were not a problem. He cracked them with his teeth. When he got to the spine he pulled it out without the help of his hands, only with his teeth, and spit it out. It fell on the ground and burst in small pieces. He was very careful avoiding the skin. Rat’s hair didn’t feel good in his mouth. He used his pinky nail to dig rat’s eyes from the small skull.

Abram felt like his head was about to explode. His face was red and head was full of veins and covered in sweat. He looked around only to find himself floating in a pitch black abyss, with nothing to hear but sudden intermittent buzzing, like that of a stubborn mosquito that came and went. Only there was no mosquito and she could see nothing in the dark void. The buzzing grew louder and more hostile.

A disgusting feeling crept over him.

Suddenly, the voices in his head stopped. The biting stopped. Some rats began to lick him. Some of them began grooming his bloodied toe nails.

The silence lingered over him, and soon it was permeated by soft squealing.

* * *

EPILOGUE

After the group had embarked on their journey back home,Vedika’s mind travelled to what her future was going to be like from now on. She hoped that the curse was broken. There would no longer be any blackouts, no monsters encroaching on her dreams, and most importantly, her daughter would be able to lead a normal life.

She smiled at the thought.

Occasionally, Amira’s high pitched laugh interrupted Vedika’s thoughts briefly, but otherwise Amira remained calm throughout the journey.

Vedika was tempted to have a little shut eye, but she resisted the thought.

For a brief period while she stayed at the house, Vedika had almost forgotten her existence. The house consumed its residents; making them forget about their past lives and any contact outside the confines of its walls. Her stay at the house felt like a thousand years. She rarely socialised with the locals, no one in the village liked to converse except when they needed to. She pitied the locals who were force-fed and injected the bitter acid of hatred into their charred minds. She had almost forgotten how much she enjoyed the company of people – a feeling which was now being refreshed as she absentmindedly heard the incessant blabbering of Mangatram.

“Abram!” The thought came from nowhere and seemed to nail her to the seat. “Why aren’t you here when I need you?” she mumbled. She’d spent so long pushing him away that, now, after the reconnection and vulnerability, not feeling his presence and support felt even worse. His absence felt like a nightmare, thankfully one that this time did not leave her vomiting from the stress it caused.

Guilt flooded into her. Her thoughts seemed frozen into immobility.

Vedika felt shaky and unsettled, her heart still beating too fast to count the beats and she took a few deep breaths. Trying to wash away the nerves with her breathing she looked at Amira, who slept peacefully. She tried to smile, to recapture some of the warm feelings she’d felt when she was born. She could feel the moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes and prayed for everything to fall in place.

Vedika sniffed feeling sad and lonely in her grief. She closed her eyes and gasped as the image of Abram flooded her mind.

Vedika shook her head. She and Abram got married in a traditional Hindu ceremony, but both of them were not exactly believers. Religion was not a central part of who they were as a couple or a family.

Vedika felt the beginnings of a headache forming.

Vedika jerked as the car came to a screeching halt. She rushed over thinking it was Abram and stopped when she saw the image on display next to the door. Instead of her husband, two people stood outside the door. A nurse and the attendant, wearing the hospital uniform, holding a stretcher.

* * *

Vedika woke up slowly. Her back was burning, why was her back burning? She wasn’t on the bed in her room any more. Vedika groaned. She was lying on her stomach still, but whatever was beneath her was no bed. Her face scraped against concrete.

“Hello?”

Nobody answered in the darkness. She tried to move her arms. They stayed firmly behind her back no matter how much she tried to pull them apart. Her wrists burned from the rope digging into them. Her ankles, she soon realized, were the same way.

A giggle filtered through the darkness.

Vedika tried to turn her head as best as she could, but it wasn’t far. Every time she moved she could feel the roughness of the concrete digging into the soft flesh of her cheek.

Vedika’s eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness around her. However, she didn’t need to see to recognize the voice. Amira.

Vedika squinted her eyes. She thought she saw the shadow of an old man standing in a distance.

“Where are we? What are we doing here?”

“Playing a game.”

Vedika swallowed. “What kind of game?”

Only silence greeted her. Vedika felt fear jump up into her throat. The taste, the smell of fear was filling her nostrils, making it hard to think. She felt a hand rest on her hair.

“Poor little Vidu….No Abram to save you.”

“W-what are you talking about?

“Shutup!”

Amira wrenched Vedika’s head back so far that she though her neck would snap. Vedika screamed, but it was cut off as something was shoved into her mouth. The piece of cloth was tied behind her head tightly. Vedika was breathing quickly now. As Amira came into view she stared at her with wide eyes.

She can’t be serious about this?

Vedika wanted to ask Amira several questions, but all she could do was shake her head vigorously. She worked her wrists together trying to loosen the ropes. They dug into her flesh more, blood seeping from the raw wound.

“You’re pathetic. You were never welcome in this family.”

Vedika’s eyes went wide. She cried against the cloth that was shoved inside of her mouth. Her knees scraping raw against the concrete as she tried to crawl away.

“Crawl away, you filthy worm.”

Amira raised her foot before she slammed it into the raw skin of Vedika’s back. Vedika howled in pain, the outcry muffled. Amira raised her leg, brought it down again hard. Vedika screamed, sobbed. Amira grinned. The gold gown that she wore was quickly growing darker, the blood sweeping out in beautiful arcs of red.

Amira hummed as she walked over to a wall above the wooden bench. She pushed a few things off of the bench, and walked back over to Vedika who was lying on the ground.

Vedika had stopped screaming, but the sound of her quiet whimpers escaped her lips. Amira reached a hand down into the wild, black hair yanking her up. Vedika thought her scalp would pull free as her weight pulled in opposite direction of her hair. She stumbled with her hands and ankles still bound, but it was better than dangling there in pain. Amira led her over to the wooden bench. With strength that Vedika didn’t even know she possessed, Amira manoeuvred her onto the wooden bench forcing her onto her back.

It took everything Vedika had to keep her breathing level.

Vedika watched as Amira pulled down a heavy hammer.

Amira waved the hammer in front of her, “Look at this rust, but I don’t think rust would matter much.”

Vedika found herself gripped with panic.She screamed around the gag as if begging for her to stop. Amira just laughed. As Vedika whimpered, Amira hummed peacefully. She shushed Vedika, running a hand over her cheek to calm her.

Amira laid the claw hammer on Vedika’s forehead. Vedika’s breathing quickened until she thought she would pass out. Amira slid the hammer over Vedika’s forehead, down her nose, rested it on her lips.

Vedika had a horrifying moment where she thought Amira would swing the hammer there; smash her teeth down her throat where she’d choke to death on them. Instead, Amira grinned at her and continued her downward descent with the hammer. Down her leg it travelled until it rested on her left knee.

Amira tapped the hammer on Vedika’s knee.

This was enough to send Vedika into a flurry of head shaking. Her eyes flickered from the dirty hammer to Amira’s face. The pain of her wrists digging into her back was forgotten.

Amira raised the hammer slightly as if she was lining up the perfect shot before she pulled it high above her head. Vedika begged around the gag.

The hammer came down in a flash, the sound of bone crunching under the steel filled the air. Vedika’s vision swam, the room began to twist before her. She felt her breakfast churn in her stomach. Amira was laughing. She raised the hammer again before she brought it down again. Vedika’s knee cap cracked harder, the bones splintering as her skin broke. Vedika couldn’t stop shaking or screaming. The pain was almost bad enough to make her want to die.

“Mummy, I am hungry.”

The sound of Amira startled Vedika from her frenzy, like she was realizing where she was. She froze in place as she watched Amira play with her phone, blinking slowly, tilting her head slightly.

Vedika looked terrified. Her visions were back again.

“uh..I..um”

“Mummy!” Amira snapped a finger in her face to get her attention, “And when is daddy coming? I miss him so much.”

’Soon….very soon.” Vedika said robotically and planted a peck on her cheek.

While leaving, Mangatram promised to send Abram as soon as possible. A week later Mangatram called to inform her about his inability to locate Abram. He also mentioned about the basement in the house being reduced to a rubble in a very strange fashion.

Vedika rushed out, into the backyard and pressed her eyes shut, her tears tapping on the bare mud as she uncontrollably wept. She gulped a lungful of air and let out a furious scream that resounded through the atmosphere.

* * *

About The Author

Kalpesh Maniar has spent his career hopping between different professions, but each of them has one thing in common - it allowed him enough time to write. He currently lives in Mumbai with his family. When he is not writing for a magazine he can usually be found wrestling with the characters in his mind.