The two screams echoed through the garden.
One above.
One below.
Both begging.
Both terrified.
"Manoj!"
The word tore through him like a blade.
Sayantika gripped his arm tightly. "Don't go alone."
Anirban's eyes were fixed on the underground steps. "The real one is down there."
"How do you know?" she demanded.
"I don't," he said. "But the thing above… it wants us to choose wrong."
The whisper moved through the trees again.
"…choose…"
Manoj closed his eyes for half a second.
Then he moved.
Not toward the fog.
Toward the stone slab.
Toward the wooden steps descending into darkness.
"Manoj!" Sayantika cried.
He turned back briefly. "Stay close. No matter what happens, don't let go of each other."
Without waiting, he stepped onto the first wooden plank.
It groaned beneath his weight.
Cold air wrapped around him instantly, thicker and heavier than before. The smell was stronger now—damp soil, rust, something metallic and old.
Anirban followed.
Sayantika came last, Dustu at her side.
The opening above them seemed to shrink as they descended.
Each step creaked loudly in the silence.
Then—
The hole sealed.
Not with stone.
But with darkness.
The faint moonlight vanished.
Only Anirban's flashlight remained.
Its beam flickered uneasily, stretching long shadows across the narrow walls.
The underground tunnel was older than they expected.
Stone-lined.
Hand-built.
Not natural.
"This wasn't an accident," Anirban whispered.
"No," Manoj said quietly. "It wasn't."
The stairs ended at a small chamber.
Low ceiling.
Cracked walls.
A single wooden door stood ahead.
Half-rotten.
Scratches covered its surface.
Long vertical marks.
Five of them.
Sayantika swallowed hard. "Those are the same marks."
Dustu growled softly.
From behind the door—
A faint sound.
Breathing.
Manoj stepped forward.
"Sibom?"
Silence.
Then a weak reply.
"…Manoj… hurry…"
It was strained.
Human.
Real.
Manoj reached for the door.
Anirban grabbed his wrist. "Wait."
"What?"
"If something is mimicking voices… we need to be careful."
The breathing stopped abruptly.
The silence felt wrong.
Then—
A knock.
From inside the room.
Three slow taps.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Sayantika's voice trembled. "That's not Sibom."
Before anyone could react, the knock came again—but from behind them.
They spun around.
The tunnel wall.
The stone itself.
Three taps from inside it.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
The walls were breathing again.
Not visibly.
But the air pressure shifted rhythmically.
The door ahead creaked open by itself.
Just slightly.
Enough to reveal darkness beyond.
Anirban raised his flashlight and pushed the door slowly.
The beam cut into the room.
They all froze.
It wasn't a room.
It was a burial chamber.
Small.
Cramped.
And at the center—
A wooden coffin.
Old.
Rotting.
The lid partially broken.
Scratches clawed across its surface from the inside.
Sayantika stepped back. "No."
Manoj's heartbeat pounded violently.
"This is where he stayed," he whispered.
Anirban moved the light toward the corner.
There—
Sibom.
Tied to a stone pillar.
Mouth covered.
Eyes wide with terror.
Real.
Alive.
Manoj rushed forward and pulled the cloth from his mouth.
"Sibom!"
He gasped for air. "It's not done—it's not done—it's trying to—"
A loud crack split the chamber.
The coffin lid moved.
Slowly.
Sayantika screamed.
The lid slid aside inch by inch, revealing darkness inside.
No body.
Just blackness.
Deeper than shadow.
Then—
A hand.
Pale.
Thin.
Fingers too long.
Gripping the edge of the coffin from within.
Dustu barked violently.
Anirban pulled Sibom free from the ropes.
"Move! Now!"
The hand rose higher.
Another followed.
Then the top of something began lifting itself upward.
Not fast.
Deliberate.
Like it knew there was no need to rush.
Its head emerged last.
Tilted unnaturally.
Eye sockets empty.
Skin stretched tight over bone.
And when its mouth opened—
It spoke in a voice that blended all of theirs.
"You chose correctly."
The chamber shook violently.
The wooden stairs behind them cracked.
Manoj grabbed Sayantika's hand.
"Run!"
They rushed toward the exit.
But the tunnel had changed.
Longer.
Narrower.
The walls closing inward.
The flashlight flickered wildly.
Sibom stumbled but Anirban pulled him forward.
Behind them—
The sound of something crawling.
Not walking.
Crawling fast.
Wood splintered.
Stone cracked.
Breath filled the tunnel.
Cold against their necks.
Dustu barked and snapped at the darkness behind them.
Suddenly—
The flashlight died.
Total darkness swallowed them.
Sayantika screamed as something brushed past her shoulder.
Manoj felt fingers graze the back of his neck.
Whispers surrounded them.
"…one stayed…"
"…one returns…"
"…blood remembers…"
A faint light appeared ahead.
The opening.
The garden.
They ran toward it.
Bursting out into the clearing.
The fog was thicker than ever.
But something was different.
The fountain was overflowing again.
Black water spilling across the ground.
And near it—
Another figure stood.
The second Sibom.
The one from above.
Smiling.
The real Sibom froze.
It turned its head slowly toward them.
Its eyes were hollow now.
Empty.
It opened its mouth.
And screamed.
The scream was not human.
The sound tore through the garden like metal grinding against bone.
The entity from the coffin emerged from the underground opening behind them.
Rising slowly.
Tall.
Unnatural.
Now fully visible in the fog.
Two of them.
One above.
One below.
Mirroring each other.
The garden trembled violently.
The trees bent inward.
The ground cracked around the fountain.
Anirban stared in horror. "It split."
Manoj felt something shift inside his chest.
Recognition.
The entity tilted its head toward him again.
"You carry him," it whispered.
The black water surged forward across the ground toward his feet.
The fog swallowed the edges of the world.
And for the first time—
The entity stepped fully into moonlight.
Its face—
It looked like Manoj.
Older.
Hollow.
Twisted.
Sayantika gasped. "It's your blood."
The two forms began merging slowly.
Shadow blending into shadow.
The garden pulsed like a living thing.
And from deep beneath the earth—
More knocking began.
Not three taps.
Many.
Hundreds.
As if something else was trying to rise.
Manoj realized then—
This was not just about Ranoj.
This was not just about 1976.
The garden was older.
Much older.
And whatever had been awakened—
Was not alone.
The merged entity took one slow step toward them.
And said softly—
"You came back… and this time… you will stay."
The ground split open beneath the fountain.
And something enormous began moving below.
**To be continued…**