Pauravi's return to consciousness was a slow, agonizing ascent from a pit of darkness.

The pain in her head was sharp, like a knife twisting between her thoughts, slicing through any clarity she might have grasped.

She lay still, the world around her an unfamiliar void, her senses dulled by the overwhelming ache that radiated from the back of her skull.

Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, loud and frantic, matching the growing sense of dread that coiled in her chest. The air was thick, oppressive, making it difficult to breathe.

She could feel her pulse quicken as fragmented memories began to surface—frantic moments of fear, a flash of movement, and then the sudden, blinding pain.

But it was the face—no, the shadow of a face—that lingered in her mind, half-forgotten, half-dreamt, and wholly terrifying.

Her attacker had been all too familiar.

The memory was like a whisper in the back of her mind, barely audible but unmistakable.

Panic surged through her veins, cold and relentless.

Could it have been him? After all these years?

The thought made her skin crawl, a cold sweat breaking out across her brow. But it didn't make sense—or maybe it did. She couldn't tell.

Everything felt disjointed, her thoughts scattered like autumn leaves in the wind.

Pauravi's eyes flickered, adjusting to the darkness, a dim, shadowy place where the edges of things seemed to blur and twist, as if they were alive.

She blinked, trying to bring the world into focus, but the throbbing in her head made it difficult to concentrate.

Shapes loomed above her, their outlines indistinct, like figures in a nightmare.

"Is somebody there?!" She strained her vocals, begging for a reply, her mind was a scary place if she was left alone. 

"Somebody help!" 

Her words echoed back to her, endlessly bouncing around the walls, with no reply. 

"Bhanu! Dhara!" Desperation clung to her soul. 

"Anybody! Somebody please!" A sob broke past her lips. 

She cried and shrieked, till her throat could no longer produce words. Concern for her family was eating her alive.

"God please let them be fine." She sobbed, tears trekking down her cheeks. She didn't know for how long she had been there. 

The monsters in her own mind were running rampant. 

Memories flashed in her mind, tugging her in the darkness that she was raised in, where the man who was supposed to protect her, had destroyed her, tore her down to pieces, till she was nothing but hollow; dead. 

He towered over her young form, his touch felt like acid on her skin, as she lay on the hard, cold floor, tears trekking down the corner of her eyes, helplessness shackled her bones. 

The all too familiar, sharp acidic smell was her constant companion, as she disassociated herself  from what was happening to her. 

She curled up mentally, pulling herself deep in her mind, where she curled in and sobbed, crying for a mother, she could hardly remember the face of. 

Agony flamed her body, it felt like someone was plunging a sharp dagger in her core, tearing and bleeding it. 

"Um...yes my whore... you feel so good." His occasional grunts would penetrate the darkness that she wrapped so tight around herself. 

Disgust coated her skin, like a slimy sludge, too dark, and impossible to get rid of. She wanted to die, her life meant nothing, but she had to wait because Bhanu needed her. 

The soft smile of her younger cousin filtered through her mind, though they were a few years apart, she felt like Bhanu was hers to protect. That little six year old was her life. The man above her grunted, jerking, shattering through her mind and tugging her back to reality. 

Panic punched her gut, a scream tearing through her lips, as suddenly she could feel the agony her body was in, it felt like someone was pouring acid in her veins, every inch of her body throbbed, bite marks decorated her once soft skin, lacerations bled freely.

"Mmm yes  whore, scream. Your pain is a sweet aphrodisiac." 

She could distantly hear the monsters voice, but the anguish that lit her body was too much. 

She shook her head, pulling herself out of the memory. 

"No...no. Don't think about it Pauravi. Don't think about it at all." 

She wanted to scream, to call out, but her voice was trapped in her throat, choked by terror. 

Tears trekked down her cheeks freely, the helplessness that she felt, reminded her so much of the place she was raised in. 

The room—or was it a room?—felt vast and unfamiliar, the walls pressing in on her despite the emptiness around her. And that smell—something acrid and decaying, something that made her stomach churn. It clung to the air, reminding her of places she had tried so hard to forget.

Be strong for your family. 

Her fingers twitched against the cold ground, the rough texture grounding her just enough to stop her from spiraling into full-blown panic. But the fear remained, a living, breathing thing that threatened to suffocate her. She could hear something—no, someone—in the distance, a soft rustling, the creak of a floorboard. Every sound made her heart lurch, her breath quicken.

Was he still here? Watching her? Waiting for her to wake so he could finish what he started? The thought made her chest tighten with dread. She couldn't be sure—it was all so muddled, so unreal—but that feeling, that deep, primal terror, told her she wasn't alone. He was close, she could sense it, a presence that loomed over her like a shadow she couldn't shake.

Deep down she knew this was stupid, because dead man didn't return. She had seen with her own two eyes when her husband had flayed the man dead.

"Focus on your surroundings, find a way out Pauravi, you have to find the others. You have protect your family." She reminded herself. 

Her mind raced, searching for a way out, for something she could use to protect herself. But she was too weak, too disoriented, her limbs refusing to obey her commands. All she could do was lay there, her eyes darting frantically around the room, searching for any sign of him. That face—or was it just a memory?—hovered at the edge of her vision, just out of reach.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the image, but it was burned into her mind, a scar from the past that had never fully healed. He couldn't be here, she told herself. It couldn't be him. But the fear remained, gnawing at her like a persistent nightmare that refused to fade with the dawn.

And then, a sound—soft, almost imperceptible, but enough to make her breath hitch. Footsteps, slow and deliberate, growing closer with each passing second. Pauravi's heart pounded in her chest, the terror suffocating her as she waited, helpless, for whatever was coming next.

A figure emerged, her eyes widened, a scream trapped in her throat, "I am here to take you, your highness." His once warm, polite voice was hollow, robotic and dead. . . Like he was.

"Bhavan..." She gasped, her airways constricting, as she still gazed at the dead young man. And yet...he was moving. His once joyous features lacked any human emotion or recognition. The man was nothing shy young soldier she often saw around the palace. 

He was clearly dead...yet he was talking? 

His neck was flayed open, blood matted his uniform, the left eye was missing from its socket as the nerves hung down like a gory reminder of the organ being plucked out cruelly.

Her throat burned, she wanted to puke. The sharp coppery smell of blood surrounded him heavily. 

Where he once held a sword in his left hand, there was nothing but a bleeding stump. He reached out, "It's time to go, my master has requested your presence."

At his words, she tried to move back, jerking out from the reach of the nightmare that had suddenly come alive in front of her eyes. 

"M...m...master?" Though she tried to be strong, her voice was threadbare, betraying her.  

"Yes, my master." He offered no explanation, he reached out, she was too shocked to move, terror freezing her down to her bones, his one hand wrapped around her long hair, he tugged them hard. 

A scream tore through her lips, he grinned down at her menacingly. The young woman's heart was rioting in terror, she tried to struggle but it was all futile. He was too powerful.

Her scalp burned, he jerked her ahead, pulling her hair harder, she whimpered. "Oh god please..." 

She felt like she was once again the little girl from all those years ago. 

Her past was seeping into her reality, destroying every last figment of safety that she held close. 

When she screamed and begged, the man dropped her, roaring in irritation before raising his hand and bringing it down like a sharp whip. The sound of the slap resonated through the dark room. 'You will do as I say, you pathetic whorish cunt." He growled, animalistic and insane.

Dread poisoned Pauravi's blood, she didn't know what to do. "You can't do this to me." She growled, pulling on her anger, that had always been her defense.

There was no way in hell she would once again be the helpless kid, never again. That's what she had promised herself. She wanted to fight but those invisible restraints had her hands tied in place. 

"You have no idea what all I can do. I have commands from my master, to treat a whore like she deserves." Though he whispered the words, they sounded like a slap of thunder on her face.

"I am not a whore!" She roared, he grinned, revealing a few missing teeth and blood pouring out of his lips. "You want me to prove that to you, what you are, and what you aren't?" Inhumane menace laughter echoed through the place, sinking the talons of scare deeper in her heart.

Be lifted his leg and brought it down hard on her face, agony bloomed in her face as darkness dotted her vision, a misery filled scream tore through her lips, as a sick cracking sound filled her ears. A tear trekked down the corner of her eyes, she was back where she had escaped from, the feeling of helplessness rooted deep in her.

The demons in her mind whispered and taunted her, she was back at square one. Her consciousness flickered, her mouth was filled with tangy coopery liquid, her cheek bone was sunk in, blood tracing down freely.

Dark spots dotted her vision. Anguish burned in every cell of her body, she felt she could no longer take it, but the torture had just began. 

She struggled to stay conscious, her scalp burned, he dragged her by her hair, tugging her down the long corridors. Her mind felt like it was stuffed with cotton, she felt her body being thrown down the stairs. 

Darkness swarmed her, her brain flatlined for a mind, as a loud beep sound resonated in her ear. Each cell in her body pulsed with agony, it felt like thoughts of daggers were jabbing her at every inch of her body, before she could no longer take it, and darkness tugged her under its vicious spell. 

And this time when Pauravi's eyes fluttered open after what seemed like ages, she felt restrained, but she couldn't see anything, she was struggling to adjust to the oppressive darkness that enveloped her. The once-familiar gardens of Hastinapur had transformed into a nightmarish landscape of desolation. 

The vibrant colors and life that had graced the garden were now replaced by an eerie, lifeless pallor. The trees stood as skeletal husks, their branches stripped bare, and the vibrant flowers had turned to blackened, withered remains, crumbling to dust.

Her gaze shifted around, pain pulsed every inch of her body, but the sight ahead of her had her soul shivering. There in her very home, in her gardens there were hundreds of dead soldiers walking around with blood and many gory things in buckets, the remnants of those killed today.  

Painting runes on the ground, hundreds of them, all same and perfect to the last detail. She struggled to keep her eyes open, she jerked against the unseen  restraints, as one after another each of her family member was brought in, laying each one on each rune. 

Everyone was struggling but none could fight or speak. 

Dark magic. 

She suspected, but who could do all this, a huge shock wave of energy rippled through the place. . .Somebody was coming...but who? 

***

Do you know who? 

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