.
.
.
The trail wasn't a trail anymore.
We were walking, yeah, but the ground felt different. Too soft. Too quiet. No twigs snapping under our boots, no leaves crunching. Just muffled steps, like the forest itself was holding its breath.
I was trying to keep calm. Trying to walk like a normal person and not like someone who had just realized they might be walking into a supernatural trap. But my instincts were screaming. Every step felt like a test.
Manu, the tank, led the group like he had a built-in GPS. Vihaan kept muttering to himself and jotting something down in a notebook, occasionally glancing over his shoulder at me. Harshad was beside me, way too relaxed for someone wandering into cursed territory.
"You good?" he asked casually.
I nodded. "Totally fine. Just... taking it all in."
"Same," he said, stretching his arms above his head. "This place is weird today, though. Quiet."
"You mean… unusually quiet?" I asked.
"Yeah. Normally we'd at least hear birds or squirrels rustling. This? This is like hiking through a library."
Not comforting. Thanks, Harshad.
As we went deeper, the trees started getting taller. And darker. Like they were filtering out sunlight on purpose. The air grew colder, and I pulled my scarf up to cover my neck. My fingers were freezing, but my spine was sweating. Love that combo.
After another fifteen minutes, Manu stopped and raised his hand.
We all froze.
"Listen," he said.
I held my breath.
At first, I heard nothing. Just the wind, maybe?
Then,
Crunch.
A very faint crunch.
Not from us. From somewhere up ahead.
Vihaan cursed under his breath. "Please tell me that it was just a deer."
Harshad tried to lighten the mood. "If it's a ghost deer, I'm running."
Manu didn't laugh. He just turned slowly and pointed to a ridge covered in moss. "That's not part of the usual trail. But it's where the sound came from."
He was right. The ridge was a little off to the side, half-hidden by a slanted tree. We never would've noticed if he hadn't pointed it out. But now that I looked closer…
There were footprints.
Boot prints.
Someone had already gone up there recently.
Vihaan squinted. "Who the hell would go off-trail up here?"
Manu looked at me. "You said you wanted to come up here for a blog. But why this mountain?"
I tried to stay cool. "I read some posts online. Said it was beautiful and… a little mysterious. That part intrigued me."
He didn't press further, but I could tell he was suspicious.
Harshad, thankfully, broke the tension. "Alright, side quest time?"
"Side quest time," I echoed, trying not to sound terrified.
We climbed the ridge slowly. The incline wasn't steep, but the moss made it slippery. I kept grabbing onto tree roots to stay balanced. My dress, which had been cute and cottagecore an hour ago, was now dirt-stained and annoying.
When we reached the top, I felt my stomach drop.
There was something there.
A shrine.
Not a big fancy one, just a few stones stacked in a circle, with dried flowers scattered around it. It looked old. Abandoned. But not untouched. Someone had been here.
There was a tiny cloth tied around one of the stones. Red. Frayed. I stepped closer.
"Ojaswi," Vihaan warned, "don't touch anything."
"I'm not," I said, though I wanted to.
The energy here was... thick. Heavy. Like the air was full of stories and none of them had happy endings. I crouched and looked at the cloth.
It had writing on it.
Old writing. Maybe Sanskrit? I couldn't tell. I pulled out my phone and snapped a quick pic, pretending I was still just a blogger doing her thing.
Harshad looked around. "This wasn't here last time. Someone's been maintaining it."
Vihaan added, "Yeah, but why? And why in such a hidden spot?"
Manu suddenly whispered, "We need to go."
His voice was tense. Too tense.
"What? Why?" Harshad asked.
Manu looked straight at me.
"I don't know who you really are, Ojaswi, but that shrine isn't just decorative. That's a binding site. For something."
Goosebumps.
Vihaan's eyes narrowed. "How do you know that?"
"Because," Manu said, still staring at me, "my grandmother used to make shrines like this. When people wanted to trap demons."
Silence.
Actual silence.
No one moved. No one even breathed for a second.
I felt my pulse in my ears. Loud. Relentless.
"I think," Manu continued, "something's waking up here. And we're not supposed to be this close."
Suddenly, the wind picked up, fast and violent.
Leaves swirled in the air. Branches creaked. A loud snap echoed through the trees behind us.
We all turned at once.
There was a figure.
Far behind the trees.
Just standing there.
Watching.
Not moving.
Tall. Shadowed. No face visible.
Vihaan panicked first. "We need to go, now."
He turned and started half-running down the ridge. Manu followed immediately.
Harshad hesitated, staring at the figure for one more second before grabbing my arm.
"Let's move, Ojaswi."
I didn't argue.
We ran.
Branches clawed at our arms. Thorns scratched my legs. I nearly tripped twice, but Harshad helped me stay on my feet. We didn't stop until we were back on the main trail.
No one spoke.
We just kept moving, fast, almost jogging. The air didn't feel as cold anymore, it felt wrong. The sky above looked dimmer, like the clouds had thickened out of nowhere.
When we finally paused to catch our breath, I noticed Vihaan was shaking. Not from the cold. From fear.
"That thing," he whispered. "Did anyone else… see its eyes?"
I blinked. "It had eyes?"
Harshad said nothing.
Manu spoke slowly. "No. It didn't. That's the problem."
I didn't ask what he meant.
The rest of the hike that day was quiet. Too quiet. No one cracked jokes. No one asked questions. We all just walked like we were trying to escape something behind us.
When we reached a flat area where we planned to camp, Manu immediately began setting up. He worked fast, almost frantic.
"We leave by sunrise," he muttered.
No one argued.
Later, after we ate and settled into our tents, I lay awake, staring at the fabric ceiling above me. My thoughts wouldn't shut up.
That shrine.
That cloth.
The figure.
I didn't want to admit it, but I knew what that was.
A binding site. Maybe even the site. The one Miss Kaur mentioned. The place where Sallos fought my ancestor. The place where the cursed thread was sealed away.
It made sense now. Why did no one come up here? Why the villagers avoided it. Why the group didn't like straying off-trail.
Because something was buried here.
Something old.
Something watching.
I turned over, trying to block the images in my head, but it was no use.
I wasn't Ojaswi anymore at that moment. I was Ojas. The descendant. The cursed bloodline. And I was closer to the truth than ever before.
Somewhere in this mountain…
The thread was waiting.
And so was something else.
.
.
.