"There are truths that do not live in words.
They live in blood, in silence,
and in the way a survivor shakes when forced to remember."
The haveli's main hall smelled of rust and dampness. The broken chandelier above creaked as though it swayed with their fear.
They had dragged a heavy wooden table to the center and set Yashpal upon it like a man pulled out from drowning.
He sat hunched forward, hands trembling in his lap, his face an unrecognizable mask of dried blood. Someone—Priya, with a shaking hand—had pressed a brass cup of water into his palm. He clutched it like it was life itself, though he hadn't yet drunk.
Saanvi crouched by him, whispering gently: "It's alright. You're safe now. Just breathe, Yashpal. Just breathe."
But he wasn't safe. They all knew it. Safety didn't exist here.
Rohit paced like a caged animal, muttering under his breath. Meghna sat rigid on the far side, arms crossed so tightly her knuckles blanched. Priya hovered with her camera clutched uselessly against her chest.
And Diya… Diya sat apart. Her locket pressed to her lips, eyes on Yashpal—not pitying, not forgiving, but studying, as if waiting for the inevitable words.
Abhay was the one to steady the room. His voice cut through the restless shifting. "Yashpal. We need to know. What happened out there?"
At first, nothing.
Yashpal's breath rattled in his throat, his fingers clenched so tight around the cup that water spilled over the rim, dripping down his wrist like a fresh wound.
Then, with a voice that cracked and stumbled like broken glass:
"I tried to follow him."
Everyone froze.
Yashpal's eyes were wide, darting from shadow to shadow as though something unseen still hunted him. "Kabir was angry. Said he didn't need us. He left… just left. I didn't want him to go alone."
The group exchanged glances. Even in their bitterness, none of them had wanted this.
"I ran after him," Yashpal whispered. "The trees… they weren't right. They bent, moved… I don't know. Kabir was calling me names, laughing, saying I was scared. Then…"
His voice cracked. He raised the cup to his lips, but most of the water spilled down his chin. His whole body shook.
"What then?" Rohit barked, unable to stop himself.
Abhay shot him a glare, silencing him.
Yashpal's voice dropped lower, trembling. "Something… something came."
The words bled into the air, heavy and cold.
"It wasn't an animal. It wasn't a man. It was—" He stopped, choking. His eyes glistened, but no tears fell, only raw terror. "It had too many arms. Or shadows that looked like arms. It moved wrong, like it was walking on the inside of its body."
Meghna's hand flew to her mouth. Priya shook her head violently. "No. No, stop—"
But Yashpal continued, unable to stop. "Kabir saw it. He laughed at first. Then… it grabbed him. Just… just pulled him. Not away. Not into the forest. Into itself." His voice cracked like a snapped bone. "I swear to you, he screamed and the sound didn't leave his mouth—it stayed in the air, hanging, like the trees swallowed it."
Saanvi whimpered. Rohit whispered, "That's not possible. That's not—"
But Yashpal wasn't finished. His hands clawed at his hair, leaving streaks of blood. "I tried. I swear I tried to pull him back. I grabbed his arm. But… but his skin—" He gagged, almost retching. "It came off in my hand. Like wet paper. His face… oh God, his face…"
The group recoiled. Even Abhay's mask cracked, his jaw tight, eyes burning with unease.
"I ran," Yashpal confessed, his voice breaking. "I didn't mean to. I wanted to stay, I wanted to fight, but I—" His chest heaved. "It was already inside him. Kabir wasn't Kabir anymore. His eyes… they were red. Not blood. Light. Like the forest itself was looking out of him."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Meghna whispered, "You're lying. You have to be lying."
But Yashpal slammed the cup down, water splashing across the table. His voice rose, ragged: "Do you think I want this? Do you think I want to see him every time I close my eyes?"
The words silenced them all.
Abhay spoke softly but firmly: "Then where's the body, Yashpal? If what you say is true, where is he?"
Yashpal's shoulders collapsed inward. He shook his head slowly, eyes glassy, lips quivering. "There is no body. There is nothing left. Kabir… Kabir is the forest now."
The words struck harder than any scream.
Saanvi began to sob quietly. Rohit muttered curses, pacing faster. Priya pressed her camera against her chest like it could shield her. Meghna shook her head again and again, whispering: "No. No, no, no."
But Diya didn't cry. She didn't shake. She only whispered, so soft that most didn't hear:
"I knew it. I knew it from the start."
The others turned, startled, but her eyes remained locked on Yashpal—sharp, knowing, almost accusing.
The lantern sputtered, shadows crawling along the walls. The haveli groaned like something alive.
For the first time, the group understood: Bhairavpur wasn't just a haunted village.
It consumed.
And Kabir hadn't simply died.
He had been taken.
"The worst truths are not the ones we don't believe.
They are the ones we believe
but cannot live with."