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Manali Forest, Old Manali | 7:14 PM
The wind whispered through the pine trees, carrying with it the cold sting of December. Akhil's footsteps echoed in the silence of the forest path, muffled only by the soft crunch of brittle leaves and old snow beneath his sneakers. The twilight had fallen fast, wrapping Old Manali in a shroud of blue-grey dusk.
He ran, not to escape—but to reach. His chest rose and fell in rhythm, not with exhaustion, but with purpose. In his right hand, he clutched his phone. The screen glowed dimly in the encroaching dark, illuminating his face with a soft, unnatural light.
> TARGET 1: Aryan Himalaya
Status: Alive
Location: Exclusive Club, Manali
A crooked smirk curled onto his lips. His eyes, half-shadowed by the hood of his jacket, narrowed in cold amusement.
"He called her names behind her back..." he thought bitterly. "Told everyone about us... twisted everything. And then, he had the nerve to mock her—to call me by her name just to make her cry."
He didn't realize when his hand had curled into a fist. The jagged scar across his knuckles split again, oozing a thin trail of blood. But this time, he didn't wince. He welcomed the sting. It grounded him.
He wasn't running from the past anymore.
He was running straight into it.
---
FLASHBACK – A Year Ago
December 5 – Library
The library was warm that afternoon. The golden haze of the winter sun poured through the tall windows, cascading over the dusty wooden floor and the stacks of untouched books.
She sat beside him in silence, their textbooks open, though neither of them was really studying. Instead, she leaned gently onto his shoulder, her breath slow, her lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks.
> "You know what I like about you?" she whispered, barely audible, as if the moment would shatter if she spoke too loud.
Akhil raised an eyebrow without turning. "My bad luck?"
She giggled—a soft, melodic sound that wrapped itself around his heart.
> "You think you're cursed," she said. "But… you still walk forward. Even when you bleed."
He was silent for a long time.
Then, in a voice that was more confession than reply, he said, "I think I walk because you hold my hand."
She smiled. A smile full of sunshine and mischief.
And that... that was the last day he ever saw her smile without fear.
> "Hey… five days later is your birthday," she said suddenly, her eyes twinkling. "What do you want?"
Akhil leaned in with a sly grin. "If I say what I really want—"
She rolled her eyes and tapped his cheek with her finger. "Naughty boy."
He laughed under his breath.
If only he'd known how quickly everything would change.
---
Present – Exclusive Club, Manali
Aryan leaned heavily against the bar counter, swirling the ice in his glass for the third time. He was tipsy—enough to feel bold, but not enough to be numb. Loud music thudded through the floor, bass vibrating through his ribs like a second heartbeat.
He downed the drink in one go and called for another.
Then—
Darkness.
The club's lights blinked once—then vanished completely. The music cut. The crowd gasped and murmured in confusion. A few scattered phone lights flicked on, but even the backup generators failed to kick in.
Total silence.
In the pitch black, Aryan's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out with fumbling hands, the screen casting eerie shadows across his face.
Unknown Number.
One message.
> "Remember me? The one who said 'no' a thousand times — but you never listened. Now I'm here."
His breath caught. A drop of sweat trailed down his temple despite the cold.
A second message appeared.
> "You'll pay for every whisper. Step outside."
Aryan looked around. The club was slowly regaining its lights now. Confused chatter resumed. But something told him the exit was safer.
Heart pounding, he pushed through the crowd and stepped into the alley behind the club.
Empty.
He turned once.
Then —
CRACK!
A blow to the knee. Aryan howled and collapsed onto the cold concrete, clutching his leg. Pain shot through his body like wildfire.
A figure stood above him—tall, still, cloaked in shadow.
Aryan whimpered, "W-who—?"
The figure crouched, his voice barely above a whisper.
> "A shadow you created."
Then came silence. Aryan gasped, his mouth open—only to feel a searing burn across his tongue. Something was wrong. He couldn't move it. Couldn't scream.
Pinned to his jacket was a paper note, handwritten:
> "Apologize to every girl.
Or next time…
You'll never speak again."
---
Meanwhile – John's Hotel Room
The television flickered with breaking news as John sat at the edge of his bed, laptop open before him.
> "Breaking: A mysterious club attack in Manali has left a student, Aryan Himalaya, hospitalized with serious facial injuries. Witnesses report the lights cutting out moments before the attack. Authorities are reviewing surveillance footage—"
John's face paled. His hands hovered over the keyboard, trembling.
He opened an old email thread—one he hadn't touched in months. The subject line read: Akira T. – Case File. Attached was an old photograph, grainy but unmistakable.
He uploaded the image to WORLD CCTV's database.
Clicked Search by Face.
The system scanned. The progress bar felt like a ticking bomb.
MATCH FOUND: 87% SIMILARITY
Location: Manali Mall | Timestamp: 2 Days Ago
John leaned forward, breath caught in his throat.
> "It's the end," he whispered.
"Akira… I found you."
---
Ending Scene – Akhil's Room
He stood at the sink, water running. Blood swirled down the drain in thin red streams. His reflection in the mirror looked hollow—dark circles beneath his eyes, jaw clenched, expression unreadable.
He was tired. But not of running.
Of waiting.
His phone vibrated against the counter.
Wifeee
> I saw the news. Please tell me it's not you…
I'm scared, Akhil.
I still believe in you.
Let me help you. Please.
Come to school tomorrow, otherwise I'll never forgive you.
He read it once. Then again. The words swirled in his mind like ghosts.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He began typing:
> "I'm sorry but—"
Then he stopped.
Erased it all.
He lifted his eyes toward the mirror, and for the first time in years, he saw not himself—but the monster they had created.
And yet… beneath the monster, the boy still whispered.
> "Aryan… five days from now, the real game begins."
He turned off the light.
Sat in the darkness.
And waited for the storm to hit.
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