The garden was quiet.
Too quiet.
Not the peaceful kind.
The suffocating kind.
The fog had thinned, but it still hovered low over the soil like something reluctant to leave. The broken fountain stood in the center, cracked and stained with Manoj's blood. The symbols carved into the stone were no longer glowing, yet they seemed darker than before, as if burned deeper into the surface.
Manoj pressed his injured palm against his shirt.
It was still bleeding.
Not heavily.
But steadily.
Sayantika tore a piece of cloth from her scarf and wrapped it tightly around his hand.
"You need stitches," she said softly.
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
Anirban scanned the garden's edges. "We shouldn't stay here."
Sibom nodded. "It's sealed. That's what you said."
Manoj looked at the ground beneath his feet.
"It's asleep."
"That's not the same thing," Anirban replied.
Dustu suddenly growled.
Low.
Warning.
All five of them froze.
The wind shifted.
The trees around the deeper section of the garden swayed in different directions, though there was no visible storm. The air felt heavier again, pressing against their lungs.
Then Manoj felt it.
A pulse.
Not from below.
From himself.
He winced.
Sayantika noticed immediately. "What?"
"My hand…" he whispered.
The cloth was darker now.
Not from fresh blood.
From something spreading underneath the skin.
Thin black veins were branching out from the cut, crawling slowly up his wrist.
Sibom stepped back. "That's not normal."
Anirban grabbed Manoj's arm and examined it closely. "It touched you."
Manoj shook his head. "No. I touched the fountain."
"Same thing," Anirban said grimly.
The wind rose suddenly.
A sharp gust tore through the garden, sending leaves spinning in a tight circle around them.
The fountain made a faint cracking sound.
A single symbol flickered.
Once.
Then faded again.
The ground did not tremble this time.
But something else shifted.
From the deeper section of the garden, past the old banyan tree, came a faint dragging sound.
Like something being pulled slowly across wet soil.
Sayantika's voice trembled. "Please tell me that's just branches."
No one answered.
Dustu barked once.
Then twice.
Then he bolted toward the sound.
"Dustu!" Sibom shouted, running after him.
"Wait!" Anirban yelled.
They didn't wait.
Manoj followed despite the pain shooting through his arm. Sayantika stayed close beside him.
The deeper part of the garden felt colder.
The soil darker.
The air thicker.
The banyan tree loomed above them, its roots hanging like twisted ropes. Beneath it, the ground looked disturbed.
Not cracked.
Not broken.
Disturbed.
Like something had pushed up from underneath and then sunk back down.
Dustu stood at the edge of a shallow depression, barking furiously at the dirt.
Sibom reached him first and pulled him back.
Anirban crouched near the disturbed soil.
There were marks.
Footprints.
Bare.
But wrong.
The toes were too long.
The heel too narrow.
And the prints were leading away from the fountain.
Not toward it.
Sayantika whispered, "If it was sealed… how is something walking out?"
Manoj felt the pulse in his veins again.
Stronger now.
His vision flickered for a split second.
And suddenly—
He wasn't in the garden.
He was underground.
Darkness pressing from every side.
Breathing close to his ear.
"Not all of us were bound," a voice whispered.
He gasped and stumbled back to reality.
Anirban caught him. "What happened?"
"It's not just one," Manoj said, voice shaking.
Silence.
The implication settled between them.
Whatever had been sealed beneath the fountain was something larger.
Older.
But the entity that had taken Manoj's form…
It might not have been the only thing that escaped.
The dragging sound returned.
Closer this time.
Behind them.
They turned.
Nothing there.
But the trees were swaying violently now, though the wind had stopped.
A shadow darted between trunks.
Fast.
Too fast.
Sibom's breathing quickened. "We need to leave. Now."
They began backing toward the main path.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Dustu kept growling, eyes locked on something they couldn't see.
Then—
Sayantika screamed.
Her shadow on the ground did not match her movement.
While she stood frozen, her shadow tilted its head.
Smiled.
And slowly began rising off the ground.
Anirban pulled her backward as the shadow peeled itself upward like thick smoke taking shape.
A second form emerged beside it.
Distorted.
Unfinished.
Manoj's veins burned.
The black lines had reached his elbow now.
The rising shadow turned its faceless head toward him.
Recognition.
It lunged.
Anirban shoved Manoj aside just in time.
The shadow hit the tree behind them, splintering bark as if solid.
"Run!" Sibom shouted.
They ran.
Branches whipped against their faces.
The path seemed longer now.
The garden stretching unnaturally.
The shadows chased them, gliding across the ground faster than human movement.
Dustu barked wildly, trying to bite at one that snapped at his tail.
Sayantika stumbled.
Manoj grabbed her with his good hand.
Anirban turned and hurled a broken branch at the approaching shape.
It passed through it—
But the shadow recoiled slightly.
Light.
Manoj's mind raced.
"The fountain," he gasped.
"The symbols react to blood and light."
Sibom understood instantly. "Phone flashlights!"
They stopped abruptly and turned.
All four raised their phones.
Bright white beams cut through the fog.
The shadows shrieked.
Not loud.
But sharp.
High-pitched.
They recoiled, flickering violently as the light held steady.
"Keep it on them!" Anirban shouted.
The shadows retreated slowly toward the deeper garden.
But they did not disappear.
They watched.
Waiting.
The group backed away carefully, lights still aimed.
When they reached the cracked fountain, the shadows halted at the edge of the darker soil.
They would not cross it.
The fountain symbols faintly shimmered again.
Weak.
But active.
Manoj's breathing slowed.
"They're bound to that section."
"For now," Sayantika whispered.
The shadows dissolved into the ground.
Gone.
The garden fell silent once more.
But this silence felt different.
Watching.
Thinking.
Manoj's arm throbbed violently.
He dropped to one knee.
The black veins had stopped spreading.
But they hadn't vanished.
Anirban knelt beside him. "It marked you."
"Yes," Manoj said quietly.
Sibom stared at the darker soil beyond the banyan tree. "So we sealed the main thing… but fragments are free."
"Not fragments," Manoj replied.
"Sentinels."
They all looked at him.
"The thing below wasn't alone. It had watchers. Guardians. Something between worlds."
Sayantika swallowed. "And now they know who you are."
Manoj nodded slowly.
"They felt my blood."
The cracked fountain made another faint sound.
A deeper rumble.
Not violent.
Just present.
The sleeping thing below shifted slightly.
Not waking.
But aware.
The seal was temporary.
They all understood it now.
This was not a one-night accident.
It was inheritance.
Anirban stood up slowly. "We need answers. Real ones."
Sibom nodded. "Your grandfather."
Manoj looked toward the broken gate of the garden.
The night felt thinner now.
Closer to dawn.
"But if we leave," Sayantika asked softly, "what if it weakens?"
Manoj stared at the fountain.
At the blood that had dried into its cracks.
"It's stable for now," he said.
"But it won't hold forever."
Dustu whimpered softly.
And in the deeper section of the garden—
Something blinked open in the darkness.
Two pale eyes.
Watching them leave.
Unblinking.
Unforgiving.
Waiting for the seal to weaken.
Waiting for Manoj to return.
Because the garden had accepted him.
And the price of sealing something ancient—
Is never paid in full the first time.
**To be continued…**