After running blindly through the darkness, they finally reached Aditya's house and locked themselves inside.
Everyone stood frozen, gasping for breath.
Nikhil was the first to speak, his voice trembling.
"What… what was that?"
Aditya swallowed hard.
"She's free now. And once she's free, she won't spare anyone."
Hearing this, Aarav narrowed his eyes slightly.
Bro, he thought, you're literally her biological son.
Of course, Aditya didn't know that.
Still, Aarav continued silently,
If anyone is safe for now, it's you. You're her greatest weapon, after all.
Vikram exhaled deeply and tried to calm everyone down.
"Relax. It was probably pressure from biogas. That caused the blast. I don't believe in evil witches or any of this nonsense."
That's when Aarav noticed something.
A raven was sitting on a tree near the house, staring directly at them.
Its eyes were fixed—unnaturally focused.
Aarav looked back at it.
Suddenly—
The raven's body jerked violently, as if an invisible force twisted its neck. With a dull thud, it fell from the tree and hit the ground lifeless.
Everyone rushed to the door.
Outside lay the dead raven.
Kirti stammered, fear choking her voice.
"Th-this… another raven?"
Aditya looked shocked.
"Another?"
Nikhil quickly explained how earlier a raven had crashed into their windshield.
Aditya's face darkened.
"This is a bad omen. Ravens are believed to be the evil witch's spies—watchers that keep an eye on everyone."
Vikram snapped immediately.
"Oh come on! Where do people even come up with this garbage? Let me ask you something—if she was sealed in the well, how did her raven hit our windshield before that? And even if they are her spies, why would she kill them herself? Why are they dying?"
Aarav remained silent, but inside, he smiled faintly.
How can servants of another stand before my servants?
The truth was—
The moment Aarav entered the village, he sensed something watching him.
So he killed the first raven.
And now, the second.
This wasn't about the witch.
The first raven didn't belong to her.
The second one did.
Aarav had sent a message to both forces—
Watching me comes at a cost.
Vikram finally rubbed his face and said,
"Maybe… maybe you're right. I think I'm just overthinking everything."
Aarav didn't correct him.
Because he knew the truth.
She was free.
And tonight was a Blood Moon.
Tonight, the evil witch would claim her first victim.
After that—
None of their lives would ever be the same.
---
It was a dark, moonless night.
A man rode his bicycle down a lonely road, drunk, singing loudly.
"Are we drunk, or is the world drunk?
Give me more wine, the intoxication hasn't hit yet—
Are we drunk, or is the world—"
His song broke mid-line.
Ahead of him stood a woman.
She wore a bride's dress.
Even in his drunken state, his body shivered.
Her waist was soft, delicate—almost unreal.
He slowed his bicycle and walked toward her, grinning.
"Hey, beautiful… need a ride? Where do you want to go?"
In a sweet, gentle voice, she replied,
"I was returning from the city, but it's very late. I'm scared to go alone. Will you help me?"
"Of course!" the man said eagerly.
"Where to?"
"Just the nearby village," she answered softly.
"Jamnapali."
He laughed.
"Perfect! I'm going that way too."
---
The next morning—
Aarav woke up to chaos.
The house buzzed with panic.
Kirti looked pale, her hands trembling.
Aarav asked calmly,
"What happened?"
"There's… there's a dead body in the village."
Aarav already knew whose body it was.
He got ready and stepped outside.
Soon, the entire village had gathered at the crossroads.
A corpse lay on the ground.
Aarav saw Venkatesh standing near it, examining it closely.
Villagers crowded around, whispering nervously.
Aarav moved closer.
Venkatesh turned the body's neck slightly—and froze.
A distinct mark was visible.
The elders gasped in horror.
One of them cried out,
"Th-that mark… it's Vanshika's mark!"
That was enough.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
"Vanshika… Vanshika…"
"Oh God! Death will dance in this village again!"
"Someone has freed Vanshika!"
Venkatesh frowned.
"Who is Vanshika?"
A villager replied,
"You're new here, brother. But Vanshika isn't human."
Venkatesh chuckled lightly.
"If not human, then what—some witch?"
The man nodded gravely.
"Yes. A witch."
Venkatesh chose to ignore the villagers' fear.
Examining the body, he said,
"Whoever killed him drained all his blood. Death by blood loss. This is a very dangerous method."
Suddenly, police sirens echoed.
Several constables arrived, pushing people back with batons.
"Move aside! Clear the area! Let us do our job!"
They surrounded the body and kept villagers at a distance.
Moments later, Aditya, Vikram, and the others arrived, running.
Vikram asked in shock,
"What happened?"
"A man was murdered," someone replied.
Venkatesh turned to the villager.
"Was he from this village?"
"No," the man answered.
"He's from a nearby village. He owns a bicycle repair shop in the city."
Venkatesh frowned.
"Strange. Why would someone from another village come here?"
Before anyone could answer, a man came running, screaming—
"The well! The lid is open! Someone has freed her!"
The crowd erupted.
"The lid is open?! Oh God!"
"She's really free…"
Panic spread instantly.
Everyone ran toward the well.
Aditya turned to Vikram sharply.
"Do you still think this is just a coincidence?"
Vikram clenched his jaw.
"I think this is a planned conspiracy. Someone is using the villagers' fear and linking a murder to a curse to escape punishment."
Just then, a police jeep arrived.
A female officer stepped out.
Aditya stared, mesmerized.
"Girls work in the police too?"
Vikram looked as well.
She was beautiful, around twenty-eight to thirty years old, dressed in an inspector's uniform. Black sunglasses covered her eyes.
Taking control, she ordered,
"Question everyone. Record statements."
Wearing gloves and a mask, she crouched beside the corpse and examined it carefully.
She asked a constable,
"No one touched the body, right?"
A villager hesitated, then said—
"… one man did."
The officer asked coldly,
"Who touched the body?"
Slowly, almost unwillingly, everyone turned to look at Venkatesh.
The officer glanced at the corpse once more, her eyes sharp and analytical. Then she straightened up and ordered,
"Take everyone's statements. Send the body for postmortem."
After that, she walked straight toward Venkatesh.
"You'll have to come with us to the police station," she said, then turned to a constable.
"Search him."
The constable stepped forward and began frisking Venkatesh.
A moment later—
"Mam!" the constable said loudly.
"He has a gun."
He pulled out a pistol hidden near Venkatesh's waist.
Instantly, the inspector drew her own weapon and aimed it at Venkatesh.
"So," she said sharply,
"you're carrying a firearm. You are being taken into custody as a suspect. Come with us."
Venkatesh slowly raised both hands.
The officer then looked at the others.
"You all are coming too."
Just then, another constable stepped in.
"Ma'am, according to the villagers, these people arrived from the city only yesterday."
A crooked smile appeared on the officer's lips, as if the puzzle had finally clicked into place.
"Came yesterday," she murmured,
"and today there's a murder. What a coincidence."
Her tone hardened instantly.
"Chaubey ji—put all of them in the jeep."
Chaubey saluted.
"Yes, ma'am."
---
Inspector Manisha Chaudhary was a 28-year-old, formidable officer. Recently transferred from Kolkata, she was known for her commanding presence, strict methods, and razor-sharp instincts.
She had been posted in this area for just one month.
And today—
She had her first murder case.
A case she was desperate to solve.
---
After the police left, silence hung over the village.
Then another jeep arrived.
A young man stepped out.
The moment the villagers saw him, they spoke almost in unison—
"Chhote Malik."
"Chhote Malik!"
"Please don't worry," the young man said calmly.
"Nothing will happen."
One villager panicked and said,
"But Chhote Malik… Vanshika has returned. You don't know how dangerous she is!"
Another added nervously,
"She killed your father too—"
Before he could finish, Chhote Malik shot him a furious glare.
The man fell silent instantly.
Suraj Thakur was 25 years old. Everyone called him Chhote Malik. He had returned a year ago after completing his studies abroad and had since taken charge of his family's ancestral affairs.
Looking at the frightened villagers, Suraj spoke firmly, his voice steady.
"Do not panic," he said.
"Whether this is a witch or a human—whoever is behind this will be punished."
He paused, then added with quiet confidence,
"And no one in this village will be harmed."
"If this really is Vanshika," he continued,
"we defeated her once before. And we will find a way to stop her again."
With that, Suraj got into his jeep and drove away.
The officer opened the file lying on her desk with a sharp motion. Her pen scratched against the paper as she spoke in a firm, commanding tone.
"Name."
Venkatesh replied calmly, "Rahul Tiwari."
She didn't look up. "Occupation?"
"Intelligence Department."
That made her pause.
Inspector Manisha Chaudhary finally lifted her gaze, her eyes cold and sharp.
"Tell me your real job."
Venkatesh met her stare without flinching.
"Ma'am, I am in the CBI. Investigation is my duty."
Manisha placed her pen down slowly.
"Do you think this is a joke?" she snapped.
Then she turned her attention to the boy standing beside him.
"You. Your name?"
"Aarav Tiwari."
Her stare shifted back and forth between them. Aarav swallowed and added quickly,
"He's my father."
That made her eyebrows rise.
"Then maybe you can explain," she said, voice edged with sarcasm,
"why your father was carrying a gun."
Aarav answered without hesitation.
"Because he's a CBI officer."
Manisha's eyes returned to Venkatesh.
"If that's true, then what is a CBI officer doing in this village?"
"My mother is from here," Aarav replied before his father could.
Manisha exhaled sharply and looked back at Venkatesh.
"Do you have any identification?"
"No," he admitted. "I left it at home."
She gave a mocking smile.
"You can forget your ID, but not your gun? And you expect me to believe you're a CBI officer?"
Venkatesh remained composed.
"I can have it confirmed by your commissioner."
Before she could respond, he took out his phone and dialed a number.
As soon as the call connected, he smiled faintly.
"Mehra… how are you?"
A brief pause.
"Yes, I came to my in-laws' place. But things got messy here."
Another pause.
"No, nothing special. Just a murder case."
He nodded.
"Yes, fine."
Then he held the phone out to Manisha.
She hesitated for a moment before taking it and placing it to her ear.
The voice on the other end was firm and unmistakable.
"Manisha, the man sitting in front of you is one of the top officers in national intelligence. Treating him as a suspect is like doubting the country itself. Release him immediately. And if he wishes to investigate this case, you will assist him. Understood?"
Manisha straightened instantly.
"Yes, sir."
She handed the phone back.
Venkatesh smiled politely.
"All good?"
"Yes… everything's fine," she replied.
He ended the call.
"Convinced now, ma'am?" he asked calmly.
For the first time since the interrogation began, Manisha spoke without hostility.
"I'm sorry, sir."
"It's alright," Venkatesh said. "You were only doing your duty."
She picked up the pistol from her desk and handed it back to him.
"This is your weapon."
"Thank you."
He took it and passed it to Aarav, who tucked it securely into his waistband.
Nearby, Vikram, Nikhil, and Aliya stood frozen, unable to process what they had just witnessed.
After a while, a constable entered the room.
"Ma'am, these are the villagers' statements."
Manisha skimmed through the file.
"All of them say the same thing," she said slowly.
"They claim a girl named Vanshika killed him."
The constable nodded.
"Yes, ma'am. But… Vanshika isn't exactly a girl."
Manisha frowned.
"Then what is she? A man?"
"No, ma'am," the constable said hesitantly.
"A witch."
Aarav corrected him casually.
"A ghost witch. Normal."
"Yes, that," the constable agreed quickly.
Manisha scoffed.
"That's nonsense. This is clearly the work of someone clever trying to escape blame."
Her tone hardened.
"Find everything about the deceased. Who he met in the past week. Any fights, any grudges. I want everything."
"Yes, ma'am," the constable said, saluting before leaving.
Manisha then looked at everyone present.
"Until we know the truth, none of you can leave the village. I'm sorry, but this is procedure."
Venkatesh nodded calmly.
"I understand."
Everyone stepped out of the police station together.
Suddenly, Aliya spoke, her voice trembling.
"What if all of this is happening because of us?"
Vikram looked at her, confused.
"Because of us? What do you mean?"
Aliya swallowed hard.
"Did you forget where we were yesterday? Near that well… the same well where Vanshika was imprisoned. And because of us, she was set free."
Vikram shook his head immediately.
"No. That's not true. This has to be a coincidence. Someone is behind all this—it's clearly a setup. That lid on the well didn't just fly off on its own."
Aliya hugged herself tightly.
"You may not believe it, but I feel like all of this happened because of me."
Just then, they noticed a villager standing nearby. He had heard everything.
The moment their eyes met, the man rushed toward his bike. He looked back once at them—fear clearly written on his face—and then sped off toward the village.
Vikram cursed under his breath.
"We're done for. Now he'll spread this story across the entire village."
Before anyone could say another word, a speeding truck suddenly came from nowhere and slammed into the man's bike.
The impact was brutal.
The man died on the spot.
Aarav felt a chill crawl down his spine. Inside his mind, a single thought echoed:
Aliya is truly dangerous… Vanshika doesn't hesitate anymore. Any threat is erased immediately.
Vikram and the others stood frozen, shock plastered across their faces.
Aarav slowly turned his gaze toward the forest behind the accident site.
Near a tree at the edge of the jungle, she stood.
Vanshika.
Dressed like a bride—yet horrifying beyond words.
Her eyes locked onto Aarav's.
And Aarav stared straight back at her.
For a moment, neither of them looked away.
Then a car passed on the road, briefly blocking Aarav's view.
When the car moved on—
Vanshika was gone.
By then, people had begun gathering around the accident site, panic and chaos spreading rapidly.
Venkatesh had already moved forward to help manage the situation.
After a long stretch of commotion, everyone eventually returned to their respective homes.
At Shakshi's house, her mother refused to let anyone enter without bathing first. One by one, they stood outside, pouring buckets of water over their heads.
After changing clothes, they gathered in the courtyard.
Shakshi's mother came forward holding a fistful of dried red chilies. Rotating them around each person's head, she performed a ritual to ward off the evil eye.
Meanwhile, somehow, word had already spread through the village.
Everyone now knew that Vikram's group had gone near the well.
And slowly, a belief began to take root—
That it was their hands that had freed Vanshika.
Soon, villagers began gathering outside the house.
Nikhil rushed to the window and peeked out.
His face turned pale.
"Vikram…" he said urgently.
"Look outside."
A crowd had formed.
And it was only growing.