So in the previous chapter, we learned that Yashraj keeps having strange, unsettling dreams again and again—but he chooses to ignore them.
Now we see…
It was around two in the middle of the night. Yashraj suddenly woke up. Morning was still far away, so out of boredom he picked up his phone and started scrolling through Instagram reels.
Blue light fell across his face. One reel after another kept playing.
Then suddenly, one video stopped in front of him.
In the video, a boy spoke in a very serious voice:
> "The world we live in… it's not the only world. There are millions and billions of Earths like ours—we just don't realize it.
When we sleep, our mind… our consciousness… travels in a way. A small hole opens in time, and our mind moves to another Earth, another reality.
That's why the dreams we see aren't actually dreams. They're fragments of truth from another world that reach our mind.
They feel so real… because they are real."
Yashraj replayed the reel.
Then again.
And a third time.
His heart began to pound loudly.
In a half-joking way, Yash thought to himself,
"Man, why am I watching this again and again? I already get these weird dreams where I keep dying in different ways. That doesn't mean I'm actually dying in real life, right?"
Laughing it off, he started watching another video. Slowly, sleep took over, and he drifted off.
The moment he fell asleep, he found himself in a completely different place—so beautiful it felt like heaven. Light everywhere, peace, flowers, clouds…
He thought, "Wow! I've reached the world of the gods!"
Just then, a radiant, divine being appeared and smiled, saying,
"How are you, Yashraj?"
Yashraj stared in shock.
"Y-you… who are you?"
The figure replied calmly,
"I am the creator of this universe."
Hearing this, Yashraj's legs gave way. He fell to his knees, folded his hands, and said,
"Lord! I am blessed to meet you. Now it feels like my entire life will be filled with happiness!"
God smiled and said,
"Yes, my child. You're absolutely right. Because you are very special to me. That's why your future life will be extremely beneficial, extremely happy."
Yashraj sat with his head bowed in devotion.
Then God slowly turned to his servant and said,
"Go… show him."
The servant stepped forward and placed a hand on Yash's head. Suddenly, Yash began to float in the air. In front of him, countless memories started playing—his life, his suffering, his pain… maybe even memories from past lives.
As Yash watched, his face turned red with rage. He screamed, eyes blazing,
"You bastard! I won't spare you!"
He was burning with fury.
At that moment, the servant chanted a spell. Yash slammed down onto the ground. From his body, terrifying negative energy began to pour out—like thick black smoke. This energy was extremely valuable to the gods. The servant collected it and sent it to God, who absorbed it and felt even more powerful.
But Yashraj's anger now reached its peak.
He broke free from the servant's magic, jumped to his feet, and roared as he charged straight at that "God"!
At that exact moment, the shining God rushed toward Yash and touched his forehead with a single finger.
That's it—
Yash collapsed hard onto the ground and…
Opened his eyes on his bed.
Panting, drenched in sweat, he laughed and said to himself,
"Hahaha… I knew it was a dream!"
He got up, grabbed a towel, and went to take a bath.
Yashraj's life continued like this. He never truly had a pleasant dream. Only terrifying, strange dreams—always involving death.
But then, one day, even those nightmares stopped.
At first, he thought,
"Good. Maybe they'll start again tomorrow."
Then another day passed.
Then another.
And just like that, an entire year went by.
For a whole year, Yashraj didn't have a single dream. Not good. Not bad. Nothing.
One evening, a year later, he sat on his bed, lost in old memories. He said to himself,
"Wow… it's been a whole year. Even those scary dreams haven't come back."
Suddenly, his face turned serious. He spoke slowly,
"But… ever since the dreams stopped, something feels strange.
Whenever I walk through a street, it feels like I've seen it before.
But in that blurry memory… I only see my death.
And my family's death too.
Every time. Every place. Just death."
He paused, looked around, and said quietly,
"And now it even feels like my family is slowly changing.
Earlier, we used to go to the temple together every Friday.
Now, I go alone.
Everyone else makes excuses.
Even if I force them to come, their heart isn't in it—they just stand there.
Everyone's lost in themselves now. No one really talks to anyone.
Everyone's just… existing."
He took a long breath and said,
"Maybe… maybe I'm overthinking things."
But the strange restlessness in his eyes was impossible to miss.
The next morning, Yashraj got ready for school and stepped out of his room.
As soon as he opened the door, his eyes froze.
His mother was standing there, holding a large knife…
And in her other hand, she was holding his father's severed head.
Blood-soaked.
Yashraj's breath stopped.
His body turned to stone. No scream. No movement. Just wide, frozen eyes.
His mother smiled and said,
"Oh… Yashraj, you're here!
Sorry, son… your father was scolding me a bit too much, so…
And your twin sisters? They thought I'd keep listening to their tiny, insect-like chatter?
So I finished them off too.
Go, check their room."
Yashraj's legs started moving on their own.
He opened his sisters' door—
Both bodies lay on the bed. Throats slit.
Yashraj broke down, crying uncontrollably.
Then he remembered his youngest brother. He ran to his room.
It was empty.
From behind, his mother's voice echoed,
"If you're looking for little Chunnu… don't worry. I haven't killed him yet."
Yashraj snapped, screaming,
"Why did you kill them all?! Why?!"
His mother replied calmly,
"I told you… I just started feeling irritated by them. That's all."
She slowly began walking toward Yashraj, the knife still in her hand.
Yashraj looked at his father's severed head on the floor.
A single tear rolled down his cheek.
The moment that tear touched the ground—
Everything changed.
Yashraj opened his eyes.
He was sitting on his bed.
The house was completely normal. No blood. No bodies.
He ran to his sisters' room.
Both were alive, scrolling through their phones.
One sister snapped,
"What happened? Why are you running around like this? You didn't even knock!"
Yashraj, panting, said,
"Sorry…"
Just then, his mother walked in and said,
"Looks like he had a bad dream."
But her voice… her tone…
It was exactly the same—cold and strange—just like in the dream.
Yashraj turned to look at her.
His eyes widened.
Without saying a word, he grabbed his bag and ran straight toward school.
His heart was pounding wildly.
As soon as he reached school, he rushed into the bathroom.
Panting, he stood in front of the mirror and thought,
"What… what was that?
No… no, it was just a dream…
But how was it so real?
What should I do? I don't understand anything…"
He was genuinely trembling with fear.
Somehow, he gathered himself, left the bathroom, and went to his class.
Sitting at his desk, he quietly began chanting God's name:
"Om Namah Shivaya… Om Namah Shivaya…"
Slowly, he began to feel a little calmer.
Then the bell rang.
Students started entering the classroom.
But Yashraj's eyes were still filled with fear.
Only one question kept spinning in his mind—
Was what he saw really just a dream?
Why does Yashraj have such horrifying dreams?
Is he even truly in this world?
Is his family real… or not?
And what does that shining "God" actually want?
To know the truth, stay with the story…
This is only the beginning.