Based on true events

Kasi stood by the stove, watching the milk bubble and froth. The steam clouded her face, but her mind was elsewhere-lost in memories of a life she once had. The kitchen of the Ahuja mansion gleamed with marble countertops and brass utensils, a stark contrast to the mud-and-thatch home she had lost two years ago.

The famine had been merciless. Crops withered, wells ran dry, and hunger gnawed at her family until it claimed them one by one. Kasi had begged for help, standing at the gates of the Ahuja mansion. But Mrs. Ahuja, dressed in silk and pearls, had dismissed her with a wave of her manicured hand.

"We can't feed the whole village," she had said, her tone laced with disdain. "Go somewhere else."

Now, Kasi lived in the same house that had refused her family a scrap of food, working as a servant.

The milk began to rise, threatening to overflow. Kasi quickly turned down the flame, her hands steady despite the storm brewing inside her. Just then, Mrs. Ahuja walked into the kitchen, her heels clicking against the floor.

"Kasi, are you done with the milk?" she asked, her voice sharp.

"Yes, ma'am," Kasi replied softly, avoiding her gaze.

Mrs. Ahuja peered into the pot and nodded approvingly. "Good. Now, make sure you throw away all the leftovers from lunch. We don't need old food lying around."

Kasi froze. Throw it away? Her stomach churned at the thought. She had seen the leftovers-platters of biryani, naan, and rich curries, untouched and still fragrant. Enough to feed an entire family. Enough to have saved hers.

"Yes, ma'am," she said, her voice barely audible.

As Mrs. Ahuja left, Kasi turned to the trash bin. Her hands trembled as she picked up the plates. She could almost hear her mother's voice, weak but determined,
"Kasi, never waste food. Every grain is a blessing."

Tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them away. She couldn't cry here. Not in this house, where compassion was as scarce as the rain had been that fateful year.

With a deep breath, Kasi moved through the Ahuja dining hall with measured steps, the tray of milk glasses balanced in her hands. The air was thick with the scent of sandalwood and the hum of dinner conversations. Her heart pounded as she approached the head of the table where Mr. Ahuja sat, flanked by his two sons. Beside them, his daughter, son-in-law and wife were also present.

She handed the milk to Mr. Ahuja first, who barely acknowledged her presence. And then to Mrs. Ahuja, who inspected the cup as if daring to find a flaw. Kasi worked her way around the table, serving the younger son, Rahul, who was too engrossed in his phone to notice her trembling hands.

Finally, she reached Veenit. Her breath caught in her throat as his eyes met hers-dark, cold, and predatory. She set his cup down carefully, afraid to spill a drop. Her skin crawled as his gaze lingered, his lips curling into a faint smirk.

"You're late," he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.

"I'm sorry," Kasi whispered, her voice barely audible. She avoided his eyes, focusing on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath her feet.

To her relief, Veenit said nothing more. He waved her away, uninterested tonight, his focus shifting to his plate. Kasi felt a wave of relief wash over her, but it was fleeting. She knew this reprieve was temporary.

Later that night, Kasi sat on the cold floor of her small quarters, knees hugged to her chest. The shadows of the mansion loomed outside her window, a fortress of wealth that had become her prison. She hated the walls that confined her, but even more, she hated the silence that trapped her voice.

She thought of her parents, their kind eyes and warm embraces, and wondered if they would recognize her now-a girl stripped of her dignity, her spirit chipped away piece by piece. She clenched her fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. Anger at the Ahujas, at Veenit, but also at herself for her helplessness.

Kasi knew she couldn't keep living like this. Every night she was spared felt like a gift, but it also reminded her of the nights when she wasn't. She needed to find a way out, to reclaim the life that had been stolen from her.

For now, all she could do was endure. But deep in her heart, a spark of defiance flickered-a reminder that even the darkest nights eventually give way to dawn.

Kasi jolted awake to the sounds of chaos. Distant screams echoed through the mansion, mingled with the unmistakable crackle of gunfire. Her heart raced as she stumbled to her feet, the cold dread of uncertainty gripping her.

Stepping out of her small room, the sight froze her in place. Bodies of servants and guards littered the once-pristine halls, discarded like toys, blood pooling on the polished floors. The air smelled of death and smoke, mingling with the acrid stench of gunpowder, choking her as she struggled to breath.

She didn't know what to do or where to go until she heard a muffled whimper. In the corner of the grand staircase, she spotted Rahul, the youngest of the Ahuja family, huddled and trembling. The ten year old boy, who often mirrored his family's cruelty, now looked scared out of his wits. For a brief moment, Kasi's hatred for the Ahuja family warred with her humanity.

"Kasi...." He choked out, reaching for like a child desperate for his life.

Kasi still hesitated. A dark whisper lingering in her mind told her to leave him be. He was nothing but a cruel, unkind and spoiled child. The exact reflection of his family! He had tormented her many times, mimicking his brother and parents.

Yet, he was still a child, and in that moment, vulnerable and scared.

"Come," she whispered, reaching out her hand.

Rahul hesitated but clung to her. His small frame trembled against hers. She guided him through the carnage, her only thought to escape the nightmare unfolding around them.

But their path was blocked. A soldier stepped into view, his rifle glinting under the dim chandelier light. His sharp command brought more men. Their presence suffocating. They were in black uniforms. They were soldiers! Kasi realized with a soundless gasp.

One soldier seized her arm, dragging her and the boy toward the grand living room.

What awaited them there was a scene of horror. Mr. Ahuja knelt on the ground, his hands tied behind his back, his once commanding presence reduced to pitiful pleas for mercy. Veenit was dragged in next, his face bloodied, the arrogance that once defined him replaced with panic.

Kasi looked away clutching Rahul tightly as the soldiers began their grisly work. Mr. Ahuja's cries filled the room, his voice cracking as he begged for his son's life. Veenit screamed, his tone a mix of pain and fury as they tortured him. Kasi flinched at every blow, each sound a cruel reminder of the nights Veenit had stolen her dignity.

A gunshot rang out, silencing Mr. Ahuja forever. His body fell to the ground, lifeless. Moments later Veenit's screams ended in the same way. Kasi couldn't bear to look, her eyes focused on the floor as the metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils.

The soldiers then turned to her and Rahul. The boy clung to her, his nails digging into her arm. He buried his face in her side and whimpered while trembling violently. Kasi dropped to her knees, shielding him as best as she could.

"Please," she begged, her voice trembling.
"He's just a child. Spare him. He doesn't understand... please..."

The soldiers exchanged glances between themselves, but their leader stepped forward. Kasi's breath hitched as she looked up at him. His face was sharp, handsome in a way that made him look almost otherworldly. But his eyes were cold and unrelenting.

This was the man who had tortured and executed the head of the family and heir moments ago. Yet, he seemed unaffected, as though death were his routine.

"Major!"

The word tumbled out of Kasi's frozen lips somehow. She was shocked to see him even though she knew somewhere deep inside that this day was coming!

He stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Kasi clung to Rahul, hoping, praying that her words had reached some hidden part of his soul.

But mercy wasn't written in his gaze. Without a word, he raised his gun. The boy screamed as the shot rang out, his small body going limp in Kasi's arms. Blood soaked her clothes, the warmth of it unbearable as her tears fell freely.

"Why?"

She whispered, her voice breaking, her sobs muffled by the weight of the boy in her lap.

The man didn't answer. He didn't need to. Kasi already knew the answer. It was revenge. The devil's revenge!

You can not hurt the devil's heart and run unscathed for long, can you?

He leveled the gun at her, his finger tightening on the trigger. Kasi closed her eyes, surrendering to the inevitable.

The shot echoed through the room, silencing her cries. Her body fell beside Rahul's, the last remnants of the Ahuja family and the servant who once begged for their lives reduced to lifeless stillness.

The soldiers moved on, leaving the grand mansion silent, save for the whispers of ghosts and the memories of the lives destroyed within its walls.

Just like he promised three months ago.

***

To be continued....