The night was a canvas of shadows and whispered fears, the air thick with anticipation and the faint scent of despair. 

Pauravi stood at the edge of the garden, her heart thudding violently in her chest as she tried to ground herself in the present.

But the past had a cruel way of resurfacing, dragging her back to places she wished to forget.

The man, hidden beneath a cloak that seemed to absorb the light around it, with a dramatic flourish, he threw back the fabric, revealing the face beneath. The world stilled.

Pauravi's breath caught in her throat. The shock was like a physical blow, her eyes wide with terror. 

Memories she had buried deep within her mind surged forward, clawing at her sanity. Her past slapped her hard, jarring her back to the dark, suffocating basement where she had been confined for years.

Those endless nights of anguish, the little girl inside her screaming relentlessly, begging God for this to be a nightmare from which she could wake. But the god had abandoned her once again, as he always had. 

The god who had never heard her cries, and certainly was not listening now.

Before her stood her uncle—Rana Vardhan Singhal. The man she had thought was dead, the source of her unending nightmares that haunted her till today, was still alive and vengeful. 

His once-handsome face, now gaunt and pallid, stretched tight over a skeletal structure that was grotesque in its familiarity.

His eyes, burning with a malevolent fire, pierced the darkness, and his lips, curled into a cruel smile, revealed sharp, yellowed teeth that gleamed with a predatory glint.

Those eyes have been the origin of her endless nightmare. Hard black orbs, that reminded her so much of the depth of a endless pit of snakes, that were twisting and turning, ready to ready everything they latched on.

Unfortunately for her...at a very young age...those snakes had latched on her.

Poisoning her future to no end.

Pauravi's mind whirled, unable to comprehend the reality of what she was seeing. "No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It can't be."

But it was. . .

"Oh, but it is, darling niece," Rana Vardhan crooned, his voice a cold knife slicing through the night, that cleaved her sense of security in half.

His words hung in the air, wrapping around Pauravi like chains, binding her to her darkest fears.

Beside her, Bhanumati's screams shattered the night, the sound raw and primal, a manifestation of her own terror.

She thrashed against the unseen restraints, her voice growing hoarse, she fought against the nightmare unfolding before her eyes.

"Bhanu!" The women of the Kuru family called out, their voices tinged with panic as they tried to understand what was happening.

Gandhari's voice, usually calm and composed, trembled with fear and anger. "What have you done to my daughters?!"

The king of Hastinapur roared, his voice filled with desperation and fury. "I will kill you! Stop whatever it is you are doing to my daughters!"

Yuyutsu, known for his peaceful demeanor, was now a mask of pure rage. "I will chop you into so many fine pieces that your family will be collecting them till the end of time!"

The man before them laughed, a booming, hollow sound that echoed through the night, mixing with Bhanu's screams and the cries of the trapped souls, creating an eerie, haunting symphony. It was a sound that made the bravest of warriors tremble and the women weep with fear.

Rana Vardhan's laughter faded, and he surveyed the scene with cold satisfaction. His gaze swept over the Kuru family, and where the men glared back with fury, the women jerked away, unable to meet his eyes. His face was a grotesque mask of death, far removed from the man he once was.

With a casual flick of his hand, Bhanumati was yanked across the garden, dragged before her father.

"BHANU!!!"

"BHABHISHREE"

"PUTRI!"

Screams resonated of her family resonated, each bouncing with panic that clawed in their chest, concern bubbling like a vicious broth.

Her tears soaked her cheeks as she struggled against the invisible force, her fight-or-flight instincts kicking in, but there was nowhere to run.

Rana Vardhan's smile was chilling and hard, like it was carved on an icy rock, he looked down at his daughter. "Shhh, my child. Your father has returned, baby girl. To take you back home. No need for all this fear."

He crooned, his skeletal fingers that were dripping with blood, and adorned with precious stones on various rings, reached out to caress her soft beautiful face.

Bhanumati recoiled, her body trembling with fear. The one man who should have been her source of comfort and safety, was the complete opposite.

She wanted to beg, her body shivered like a leaf. Her mind was screaming for her husband, thrashing against the binds.

She opened her mouth to speak. Her panic sealing all her senses, cluttering their signals to her brain, in a chaotic wave.

But before she could speak, her protector was roaring from beside her. The one who had been terrified moments ago, was now almost frothing with anger.

"Don't you dare put your filthy gaze on my sister!" she heard her sister spit the words, her voice shaking with a mix of terror and anger.

Dhara, who had been silent until now, rumbled with her own dose of protectiveness, her voice a low growl. "If you dare touch her, I will flay you down to the last of your bones."

Rana Vardhan looked at the two women, amusement flickering in his eyes. This bitches thought they stood a chance against him?

He rolled his eyes at their stupidity. "Fools." He scoffed under his breath, raising his hand, and with a casual flick, a loud slap echoed through the night, striking Dhara across the face.

She gasped, the pain searing through her, as the world darkened for her second, everything was blurred, her ears ringing with a loud keening sound, blood trekking down the woman's mouth and the family erupted in furious roars.

But with another snap of his fingers, their voices were silenced, leaving the night eerily quiet once more. The enchanted chants sealed their lips once again.

Helplessness weighed down their bones, their eyes glistening with wrathful tears and worry for the three daughters of their family.

What would they tell Duryodhan? That so many of them...and none could protect his wives?

The honour and dignity of Hastinapur was being played with by one single man, while they just all watched.

Disgust mulled with fury and terror creating a toxic concoction, that slowly killed their soul.

The man sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. His eyes were trekking each one of their moments.

"You all really need to learn some bloody discipline. I cannot be your mother, teaching you every little thing about life. Ungrateful fucking brats. If you aren't going to value your freedom, I will have to take it away."

His gaze shifted to Pauravi, and she wished she could disappear, become invisible under the weight of his scrutiny. His face was a picture of a mockery, that laughed at her.

"Did you think you could escape me forever? Did you believe that death would be my final act?"

The terror in Pauravi's heart was overwhelming at his nonchalant question. The sight of her uncle, alive and wielding dark magic, filled her with a profound sense of dread. 

How in the hell did this man come to be such a powerful magic? He was evil enough without it, but now...he was unstoppable.

Her mind raced, grappling with the implications of his return. The future seemed bleak, overshadowed by the presence of this vengeful spirit.

His gaze swept over the restrained figures once more, his expression one of cruel satisfaction. "Look at them, Pauravi. Look at your family, your friends, all at my mercy. This is the price you pay for defying me."

Tears welled in her eyes, the horror of the situation almost too much to bear. Her family, trapped and suffering at the hands of a man who had once been her tormentor, was a weight she could not carry. 

The darkness of the night seemed to close in around them, a harbinger of the despair and suffering that awaited.

There was something different about the ebony night today, it wasn't the one that usually resulted as a result of no light, but the one that birthed with all that was once good was abandoned, leaving behind nothing but hollowness.

Rana Vardhan sighed, shaking his head as though speaking to a disobedient child. "I thought you were better than the rest, sweetheart. But you ended up marrying that filth?" His voice dripped with contempt, and he made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "Why would you do that, little one?"

Each word was a knife, twisting deeper into Pauravi's soul, tearing open wounds that had barely healed. The pain was sharp, relentless, and suffocating.

Yet for the first time tonight, the embers of her fury that were doused by his terror, sparked with a raging flame.

Duryodhan.

He was one person she refused to hear anything bad about. Her jaw tightened, she grappled with her terror, slamming her hard against the floor, restraining it with the shackles of her love for him.

This man...this filthy piece of crap had no right to even utter the name of the man she so inevitably loved.

The one who had fought everything, sacrificed his own damn love, for what? A broken, twisted, woman that she was.

He loved her even in those times, when she hated herself. He fought for her. Unlike the world who had abandoned her, he chose her. Over and over again.

And for a man like that she wouldn't let anyone, and she meant any-fucking-one utter one damn word of disrespect.

He glared at her, terrifying the young girl in her. But she found her strength in the face of his cruelty.

"Stop it!" she hissed, her voice low but steady. Powerful enough that a wave of shock flickered through his features, the emotion barely lasted a second, but she had known this fucking monster for too long to miss anything.

"My husband is infinitely a better man than you." Her words were quiet, almost threadbare, but she knew he heard her.

She fucking made sure that he did, as she looked in his eyes, gazing her nightmares dead center in their eyes as she had spoken.

Wrath shimmered under this emotionless face, the twitch of his left eye, the almost unnoticeable set of his jaw, were signs enough.

The temperature around them pummeled sharply, a sharp contrast to his rage that burned high.

Pauravi continued in her unwavering calm voice. "A way better man than you will ever be. The likes of you can't even be the soil under his shoes."

Her eyes blazed with defiance, damn the bloody consequences. She was no longer the little girl he ones controlled. She was the wife of Prince Duryodhan, the queen to his heart.

And this man...he no longer scared her. She reminded herself. She was Pauravi, the woman, who commanded terror in her home, not too long ago.

The ruthless savage queen to her king. The monster that was created by this man, day by day, as he slowly killed the little girl she once was.

"Jiji...no..." Bhanumati's voice trembled with fear. What was Pauravi doing? Her father was a merciless monster, and here her cousin was, taunting him, waving a red flag at an already enraged bull.

Rana Vardhan's voice was dangerously low, his face devoid of emotion. "What did you just say?" he asked, his tone a menacing whisper, that had terror stirring in the air.
"You want to repeat that again?"

Pauravi raised her head, tilting her chin arrogantly, her fear receding in the face of her defiance. As she looked every bit of the queen, like her man had always treated her.

"My husband is infinitely a better man than you. A way better man than you will ever be. The likes of you can't even be the soil under his shoes."

Her words were slow and deliberate, spoken as if she were addressing a child.

Rana Vardhan's face contorted into an ugly, vicious expression, his fury barely contained. Humiliation seeping down to his last marrow.

"You filthy whore!" he roared, his voice splitting the night like thunder. As the ribbons of dark energy that cloaked him like a sentient smoke exploded into a scarlet blast of blood and destruction, sending a mega shock wave of energy, that sent everything flying back except those levitating in air.

Bodies slammed against trees and ground, painful grunts piercing the air.

The darkness thickened around him, as if the very night itself was responding to his rage.

Pauravi stood her ground, even as her body trembled with fear. She had been a coward for too long, but enough was enough.

It was no longer just about her and her sister. This was about her family. Her fucking daughter.

She would face him, even if it meant standing against the very man who had once broken her.

In the distance, a cold wind began to howl, carrying with it the echoes of a dark and foreboding future.

But in that moment, Pauravi's heart, though heavy with fear and pain, was resolute. She would not let him win. Not again. Not ever. . .

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