Never in my life had I felt anything like this. I'd spent my entire existence in the city—where the air is always thick with pollution, and life feels like a never-ending cycle of work and survival. But today... for the first time, I experienced the joy of breathing clean air. The scent—earthy, fresh, flowing in from the trees and the lush greenery—felt like it had cleansed my mind itself. If I had the choice, I'd live here forever.
But there's one problem with this paradise— The cold.
The wind here is so icy, it's drained all the color from my face. I honestly don't know how people manage to live in places like this year-round.
Ayaan was deep within a dense forest. Beside him walked a young boy—no older than ten—his small hand tightly wrapped around Ayaan's. The mist was thick, the air sharp and frigid. They walked slowly in silence, until the boy looked up and asked: "Bhaiya?"
"Yeah?" Ayaan replied warmly.
"Don't you ever miss your parents?"
Ayaan paused. "Umm… why do you ask?" he said, a little taken aback.
The boy smiled gently, locking eyes with him. "You do know… you weren't supposed to come here, right?"
Ayaan froze in his tracks. He slowly let go of the boy's hand. Sweat began to trickle down his forehead. His lips dried up. He turned toward the boy, his breath shallow.
The boy, barely four feet tall, wore a traditional hill cap. He stared into Ayaan's eyes—completely unblinking—and said: "Go back. While you still can."
In that instant, Ayaan's eyes snapped open— He jolted upright in bed, gasping for air.
"What was that? A dream…?"
He was inside a moving bus. Two sleeping mats were laid out on the floor—Oliver and Rudra were asleep on them. It wasn't just any bus—it was a private, automated vehicle, custom-built like a mobile operations unit.
There were no seats. Instead, it had a small kitchen, a compact washroom, a fridge, and lockers stocked with weapons.
Ayaan, Rudra, and Oliver had all been sleeping on the floor. Toward the back of the bus, separate from the others, a proper bed was laid out. Luna was asleep there.
Ayaan glanced around the space, slowly piecing everything together. And then it hit him.
Right. They were on a mission.
A few hours before their departure, the team had been called into a small briefing room for a pre-mission discussion.
(Discussion room)
The room was dark. The only source of light came from the projector's faint glow, casting moving shadows across the walls.
On the screen at the front, a map of Uttarakhand was displayed—an ominous mountainous region veiled in dense forests, chilling winds, and secrets that seemed to breathe.
The manager stood at the front of the stage, the weight of responsibility showing in his tired eyes and furrowed brow. The rest of the team—Luna, Oliver, Rudra, Nyra, and Ayaan—sat in rows like students in a classroom, each face marked with its own kind of silent tension.
"This mission has been in discussion for quite some time," the manager began, his voice carrying a heavy edge. "But now... with the full team assembled, the time has come to finally carry it out."
He turned his gaze toward Nyra, giving her a subtle nod.
Quietly, Nyra rose from her seat. The soft thud of her footsteps echoed gently across the wooden floor as she made her way toward the projector. Standing beside the screen, she now commanded everyone's attention.
Nyra picked up a remote and pressed play.
The screen flickered with static before cutting to a dimly lit hospital room.
The camera slowly zoomed in on a hospital bed where a young woman lay—alive, but shattered.
One of her eyes was covered with thick medical gauze, bruises and cuts marked her arms, and her whole body seemed to radiate quiet despair. Though she was conscious, her face carried the look of someone who had died on the inside.
The cameraman—his face never shown—approached the bed slowly. "Excuse me," he said gently, his voice low and cautious. "May I ask you a few questions?"
The girl turned to look at him. There was no light in her eyes. Only stillness… and a quiet, exhausted kind of trust.
"…Yes. Go ahead," she replied softly.
"Do you remember anything? What happened out there… what you saw?"
She paused for a few seconds, lowered her gaze, and swallowed hard—holding back the tears that threatened to rise.
"Yes… I remember everything."
The cameraman stepped a little closer. "How did this happen to you? Can you… please tell us everything?"
She took a shallow breath—and began to speak.
"It was just the two of us… my husband and I."
"We'd come to Uttarakhand to celebrate our honeymoon. Everything felt like a dream—rivers, mountains, and that crisp mountain air… it was all perfect."
"We spent the entire day exploring. We took pictures, danced, enjoyed delicious food… and ended the night around a warm campfire."
"There were a few other people nearby—gathering firewood mostly. We didn't pay them much attention. We were too lost in each other."
"And then… a boy showed up."
"He couldn't have been older than ten. He wore a woolen cap and simple kurta-pajama. He looked innocent—harmless."
"We started chatting with him, asked about the place. That's when he told us about a temple deep in the forest. He said if you truly wished for something there, it would definitely come true."
"But the temple lay beyond a dense forest. He warned us it might be risky—wild animals and all."
"I immediately refused. Told my husband there was no way I was going into some dark jungle."
"But he… he was looking for adventure."
"He offered the boy money—said if the kid could lead us safely to the temple, he'd reward him handsomely."
"The boy didn't even hesitate. He agreed instantly and promised to guide us."
"I begged my husband not to go. I told him it didn't feel right… begged him again and again. But he didn't listen."
"As soon as morning broke, we left with the boy—into the forest."
"We made it to the temple without incident," she said, her voice softening. "It felt like God Himself had led us there."
"We gave the boy two thousand rupees as thanks. Even took a photo with him—to remember it."
"After the prayer, we started our walk back to camp. But by then… a thick fog had rolled in. The air turned even colder. My face felt like ice."
"And then… it all went wrong."
"The boy vanished."
"My husband searched everywhere. We shouted his name, called into the forest… but there was only silence."
"The cold was unbearable. Darkness had fallen. We had no choice… we kept walking."
"Our hands were numb. Our legs barely moved. We stopped talking… it was like even our voices had frozen."
"Our phones had died long ago. No signal. No light. Just shadows."
"We kept walking, not even knowing if we were heading the right way."
"I had lost all hope. I really thought… that was where we'd die."
"And then—he returned."
Her voice trembled now.
"There he was… standing in front of us."
"He smiled and said, 'Lost your way? I know the path. Come with me.'"
"My husband rushed to him. I was relieved. But just as he reached the boy—"
She stopped speaking. Her lips quivered. Tears streamed down her face.
The cameraman gently asked, "What happened then?"
"He… collapsed," she sobbed.
"I panicked. Ran to him. Screamed his name—again and again."
"But that boy… he just stood there. Smiling."
"Suddenly, the fog thickened."
"And in a blink—they were both gone."
"I screamed. I searched everywhere. I called out. But no one… no one answered."
"The cold made my bones ache. My lips cracked. I couldn't move. Couldn't even cry properly."
"I collapsed on the ground… and cried until I couldn't breathe."
"Then… something touched my shoulder."
"I turned, slowly. A hand… with a watch on the wrist."
"It was his watch. My husband's."
"His hand… it was resting on my shoulder."
"I felt relief for a second. Thought maybe he was back."
"I grabbed his hand and cried, 'Where were you?! I was so scared!'"
"But his hand… it was cold. Too light."
"Suddenly—it fell into my lap."
"Just… the hand."
"Severed. Bleeding."
"My husband's hand was in my lap."
"It felt like my heart exploded. My chest tightened. I couldn't breathe. I felt like vomiting. I couldn't stop crying."
"Was this really happening…?"
"I screamed so loud… my voice broke. And I couldn't even stand anymore."
"I begged God for help. Thought of my parents. Somehow… I forced myself to keep moving."
"And then… the boy appeared again."
"'Was this your doing?!' I shouted at him, furious, terrified."
"He didn't answer. Just walked toward me."
"I picked up a rock from the ground and hurled it at his face."
"It hit. He began crying."
"'Why did you hit me, didi?' he asked. 'I thought you were my friend. But you're mean. I'm taking you to the police now!'"
"He started walking toward me again."
"I screamed. 'Stay away! Please, for God's sake, leave me alone!'"
"I dropped to my knees. Begged for mercy."
"I hid behind a large tree, trying not to breathe."
"He stood there. Watching me. Saying nothing."
"His eyes… they weren't those of a child. There was no innocence. No remorse. Just… coldness."
"He stepped forward. Touched my cheek."
"His fingers were like ice."
"'Didi,' he said softly, 'I know how you're feeling.'"
"'But you shouldn't have hit a child…'"
"What…?" I was frozen in fear. Every breath was laced with panic.
"His smile grew wider."
"Then suddenly—he clenched his fist and struck my eye."
"I was about to scream—but nothing came out."
"His fingers dug into my skin. I felt them pressing, twisting…"
"It was like my eye was a toy. A ball to be squeezed."
"I tried to resist… to fight back… but he was far too strong."
"I felt every twist of his fingers. Every push. And then, with one final jerk—he plucked my eye out."
"The world turned dark. The pain… I can't even describe it."
"I collapsed to the ground. Unconscious."
"When I woke up… I was in the hospital."
"The police told me a villager had found me and taken me to a local clinic. From there… I was transferred here."
The room fell completely silent.
The cameraman spoke gently, "And your husband…?"
"He was never found," she whispered.
"His name?"
"Vikram."
"And yours?"
"Priya."
Click.
The video ended.
A heavy silence engulfed the room. Everyone sat frozen, unease clearly painted on their faces—
as if they had just witnessed a terrifying truth unfold before their eyes.
"Poor girl…" Rudra murmured softly, his voice unusually serious.
"How can a child… do something like that?" Ayaan said, stunned.
Nyra, calmly closing the file, began to explain. "As you all saw… that girl is the only known survivor. Until now, she's the only one who's come back alive to tell us anything about this Asura."
Rudra raised his hand and asked, "But why did it let her live?"
Nyra paused for a moment before replying. "We don't know. That's the mystery. In every other case, we didn't even find the victims' bodies."
"This is the first time someone returned alive."
Oliver speculated aloud, "Could it be… that it spared her because she was a girl?"
Nyra shook her head. "No, that's unlikely. According to reports, children and girls have gone missing in that area.
And it did attack her—but still chose not to finish her off. It's strange."
"Maybe… it just didn't like her?" Oliver added in a casual tone.
"Didn't like her? What, you mean she wasn't attractive enough?" Rudra smirked.
"Maybe she wasn't its type," Oliver said with a wink.
"You two idiots," Luna snapped, her voice sharp and furious. "If you don't shut your mouths right now, I'll break both your jaws." Her eyes flashed a faint golden yellow—and just like that, both of them fell silent.
Nyra walked away from the front stage and sat back down beside Rudra. He raised a thumbs-up at her. "Nice speech, Nyra. Solid delivery."
Nyra offered a small smile in return. "I'm not that special, you know."
That's when the manager stepped forward again, returning to center stage.
"Team, as we've just witnessed... this Asura lures people into the jungle, disguised as a child—and once they're deep enough… it hunts them."
"Don't assume it's just an illusion or some hallucinatory effect.
If it can single-handedly take out fifty of our trained soldiers without leaving a trace,
then it's far from ordinary. Don't underestimate it."
Oliver stood up. "By the way, sir… does this Asura have a name?"
The manager paused, thinking. "The villagers in that region believe in an old legend. They speak of a learned Brahmin… someone who amassed such vast knowledge that he could solve riddles of life, help others, and unlock spiritual truths."
"But... instead of using his wisdom for good, he chose the path of corruption. He abused his knowledge."
"They say such a man finds neither salvation in heaven nor punishment in hell.
Instead, he remains trapped on Earth—his body aging, decaying, but never dying.
His mind twists into madness…his hunger becomes insatiable…and slowly, he transforms into something monstrous."
"And such a creature… is called—"
"Brahmarakshas."
"Brahmarakshas…" Ayaan quietly echoed the name. He was sitting up in bed, eyes distant—
lost in the memories of the discussion that still echoed in his head.