Ahsan entered AZ's office, where the faint scent of incense lingered. AZ's assistant, the quiet girl who rarely spoke, greeted them softly. He had seen the assistant before during his last visit. This time, she was arranging some papers on the desk when Ahsan asked, "So, she's your assistant, right? She doesn't seem to be from Bangladesh."
AZ replied casually, "Nah. She's from Thailand. Her name's Noi."
Ahsan frowned slightly. "Thailand? What's she doing here then?"
AZ's tone softened. "Long story. For now, let's say her past is filled with tragedy."
Ahsan looked at Noi again. She was beautiful — her skin pale like moonlight, her long black hair neatly tied back. She looked younger than him, but her eyes held a quiet sorrow, as if she had seen far too much for her age. Since the first day Ahsan saw her, she'd barely shown any emotion. But this time, when Ahsan's gaze lingered a bit too long, Noi blushed faintly and hurried into the next room.
AZ chuckled under his breath and leaned closer to Ahsan. "Noi likes jasmine flowers. Just in case you ever want to give her something in the future."
Ahsan blinked, a little surprised. He didn't know why AZ would tell him that, yet something about it made him smile. For the first time, Noi didn't feel like a distant stranger — she felt... human.
Ahsan leaned back in the chair. "So, you said you found a cure for my problem?"
AZ nodded, his expression unreadable. "That's right. Sit tight, and I'll show you."
He opened a drawer and took out the same concave glass dome Ahsan had seen before. Its surface glimmered faintly under the office light. Without another word, AZ placed it over Ahsan's leg.
"Now," he said, "look closely."
Ahsan hesitated before leaning forward. Beneath the dome, he saw the same twisted mass he had seen before — the black, sinewy flesh twitching faintly under his skin. Only this time, its movements were slower... weaker, almost like it was dying.
Then Ahsan's eyes caught something new — a faint crack running through the dark flesh, like glass under pressure.
"AZ," he said nervously, "what's that crack?"
AZ crossed his arms and took a deep breath. "That, my friend, is change. Remember what I told you before? A demonic organ doesn't function like a human one. But the longer it stays in your body, the more it tries to adapt — to become part of you. Your blood, your cells, your soul... they're forcing it to evolve."
Ahsan looked at the crack again. "So it's... becoming human?"
AZ smirked faintly. "Not quite. It's becoming you. But there's a problem. You did something recently — something that helped the transformation, but also made it worse."
Ahsan frowned, tension rising in his chest. "What did I do?"
AZ said calmly, "Remember when the ghost from that room cornered you with her clones? At that time, you felt fear and despair. That emotion—your terror—fed the demonic limb. It grew stronger because of it."
Ahsan's eyes widened. "Wait... you mean—?"
AZ nodded, tapping the glass dome. "Yes. It's already grown about five centimeters longer. You might not feel it yet, but it's spreading. Every time you feel fear, anger, anxiety, or any other strong negative emotion, it feeds the darkness inside you. And in return, it grows."
Ahsan froze. The realization hit him like a wave of cold water. He wasn't just cursed... he was being slowly consumed.
After a long silence, Ahsan swallowed hard and asked, "You said I also did something that helped cure it. What did you mean by that?"
AZ smiled faintly and stood up. "To explain that, I'll have to show you something."
He walked to the corner of the room and brought forward a large glass box, placing it carefully on the table. From his coat pocket, he produced a small vial filled with swirling black smoke—alive, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
He placed it at the center of the box. "Now, watch carefully."
AZ then took another cylinder from a locked cabinet. It was filled with a thick, oily substance that seemed to move on its own. "This," he said, "is what remains of a destroyed Djinn."
He poured the contents of the cylinder into the glass box. The darkness bled through the glass like ink dissolving in water. Then, AZ flicked a lighter and held the flame to the mixture.
Within seconds, the black mass hissed and burned away, releasing a faint shriek that vanished as quickly as it came. When it was gone, Ahsan's eyes darted back to the small vial—and gasped.
The darkness inside it had vanished, too. Only the empty vial remained, perfectly intact.
AZ leaned back in his chair, his voice calm but heavy with meaning.
"When a demon manifests somewhere, it begins feeding on the darkness already present in that place—people's hatred, pain, despair. But when the demon is destroyed, the darkness it has consumed perishes along with it."
He gestured toward Ahsan's leg, still under the glass dome. "When I helped the spirit in your college find peace, the corruption tied to her vanished. That same purging ripple passed through you, affecting the demonic limb. The cracks you see now," he pointed to the faint fractures running across the blackened flesh, "are the result of that cleansing."
Ahsan stared at the cracks in silent awe.
AZ continued, his tone softening, "Once that corrupted part takes enough damage—once the light outweighs the darkness—it will simply fall away, like a snake shedding its skin. And when that happens..." he smiled faintly, "your leg will be as good as new."
Ahsan's eyes shimmered with hope. For the first time in days, freedom didn't feel like a distant dream.
AZ smirked. "Now that we've found a cure, let's talk about payment."
Ahsan blinked. "Wait—payment?"
AZ crossed his arms. "What? You thought I ran a charity? I do work for free sometimes, but only when my clients can't afford it. And you don't look too broke to me."
"Okay…" Ahsan said cautiously. "So, how much do you want?"
"Six hundred."
Ahsan exhaled in relief. "Oh, thank God. I've got a thousand taka right here." He pulled out a note and held it toward AZ. "Do you have change?"
AZ stared at the note, then back at him, confused. "What's this?"
"Uh… your fee?"
"I said six hundred dollars, not taka."
Ahsan froze, the color draining from his face. "S-six hundred dollars?!" That was more than his family spent in a month. "I don't have that kind of money!"
AZ sighed, tapping his chin. "Hmm. That's… inconvenient. I don't usually work for free, and I can't just leave you with a demonic limb either. What to do, what to do…"
He suddenly snapped his fingers. "Got it. You'll work for me instead. Your treatment's going to take about a month anyway. So for that one month, you'll act as my student—and help me when needed. Deal?"
Ahsan hesitated. Student? Assistant? It sounded absurd. But compared to paying six hundred dollars… it was the only way.
"I accept," he said finally. "I'll be your student and assistant."
AZ grinned. "Perfect. Then from tomorrow onward, you'll help me whenever I call. And when I say whenever, I mean whenever. Oh—and bring food when you come. Biriyani works best."
Ahsan sighed but couldn't help smiling. A strange sense of purpose filled his chest. Maybe this was the beginning of something greater—or darker. Either way, he was ready.
It was time to face this one cursed month.