Part 4
TIME: 3:35 A.M.
LOCATION: The Blood Catacombs Beneath Lakhnagar
ACP Arjun Rawat ran blindly through the maze of bone-littered tunnels, walls slick with red. The singing behind him was growing louder — not one child, not ten, but dozens.
And it was getting faster.
> "Rain falls red, skies turn grey,
Shut your mouth or we'll make you stay…"
He turned sharply, flashlight flickering. His path opened into a circular chamber, and at its center: a mirror.
Tall. Cracked. Unclean.
But this was no ordinary glass.
Because what Arjun saw wasn't his own reflection.
It was Anay — standing in his police uniform, grinning. Behind him: blood raining inside Lakhnagar streets. People screaming. Buildings melting into flesh.
And in the mirror's reflection…
Arjun was smiling.
Suddenly, hands shot out of the mirror.
Not one. Not two. Many.
They grabbed his arms, face, neck — trying to pull him through the glass.
"NO!"
He struggled, pulling free. The glass cracked and screamed. Yes — the mirror screamed, like it was alive and furious.
Then silence.
Until Anay's voice returned:
> "The mirror is one gate. The lungs of the house are another. But the heart of the flood… is her."
---
TIME: 3:37 A.M.
LOCATION: Lakhnagar Forest – Niyati Sharma's Cabin
Niyati stood in the center of her bathroom.
In her palm: the silver key from her locket.
She inserted it into the drain.
It clicked.
The entire house shook.
Suddenly, the mirrors inside her home shattered — not outward, but inward, as if something had sucked the glass into another dimension.
The door burst open.
But the children… were gone.
The air was filled with static, electricity dancing across the floor.
And on the bathroom wall, written in blood:
"SHE REMEMBERS THE ORIGINAL RITUAL."
She fell to her knees.
"I'm the last survivor," she whispered. "That's why they didn't take me. That's why they need me to forget…"
She pulled out a dusty envelope she had hidden for over a decade.
Inside:
A photo of Anay as a baby — date stamped 1981.
A file titled: "PROJECT FLOODCHILD."
And an ultrasound.
The fetus inside had no heartbeat.
But the file read:
"Subject revived. Unknown biological source. Will be transferred to Room 309."
---
TIME: 3:41 A.M.
LOCATION: Lakhnagar Main Road
The town was gone.
Red rain fell like acid, burning paint off cars, warping glass, turning soil to blood-mud.
People fled in all directions. Others were not so lucky.
They saw children standing in the rain — hands outstretched, mouths open.
And when the rain touched them, they vanished. Like their existence had been deleted.
At St. Teresa's Orphanage, 29 children stood in perfect rows, chanting:
> "Bring him back.
Bring him through.
One more lock.
One more you."
At Lakhnagar Girls' College, every single girl in Hostel Block C began vomiting black liquid. Some whispered the words "Room 309" in their sleep. One carved it into her skin.
And in the sky above the town…
A symbol formed in the clouds — a red spiral made of children's screaming faces.
---
TIME: 3:48 A.M.
LOCATION: Blood Catacombs — Vein Chamber
Arjun crawled into a new section of the ruins.
Here, the walls didn't pulse — they throbbed.
The entire chamber beat like a giant heart.
Every pulse sent blood raining from the ceiling in thick droplets.
In the center, a woman's body lay suspended in red webbing. Her mouth was sewn shut. Her belly cut open and stitched crudely.
Arjun recognized her.
Dr. Meera Sharma — one of the missing founders of Brijraj Sanitorium.
She was alive. Eyes open. Crying silently.
He tried to cut her down, but the webbing resisted.
A child's voice echoed:
> "She birthed the gate. She opened the house. But only the flood can drown the key."
The walls behind him opened like jaws.
Anay walked through.
Only now… he wasn't alone.
Behind him — a parade of lost children, their mouths sewn shut with wire, some missing limbs, others floating.
> "It's almost 4 AM," Anay said, smiling.
"When the final bell tolls… everything red becomes me."
---