Amit Joshi
Chapter 1: The Legend
Ravi, a historian with a passion for uncovering forgotten histories, sat in his cluttered study, surrounded by piles of old manuscripts, faded maps, and ancient scrolls. His eyes glimmered with excitement as he uncovered a fragment of a long-forgotten legend, buried deep within the annals of history. It spoke of a village, lost to time, hidden in the rugged hills of Himachal Pradesh. The village, once home to a thriving community, was cursed and abandoned after a series of unexplained deaths and disappearances over a century ago. According to the legend, the villagers had once worshipped a dark god of the hills, offering their own children in sacrifice to appease it. The god’s demands grew insatiable, and the villagers, unable to free themselves from the curse, fled, leaving behind their homes and families. But the village, its secrets, and its curse were not erased by time. The legend hinted that the village remained hidden, waiting for someone daring enough to uncover its tragic past. Ravi’s heart raced as he read the chilling account, feeling a surge of excitement and dread. This was the story he had been waiting for, the one that would make his name in the world of academia.
Driven by an insatiable curiosity, Ravi began making plans to find the village. He gathered a small team of explorers, including Priya, an archaeologist who had worked with him on several previous expeditions, Sameer, a rugged local guide with extensive knowledge of the hills, Arjun, a young and eager intern, and Ayesha, a local herbalist whose family had lived in the region for generations. Ayesha, though wary of the legend, agreed to join the team, though she offered only cryptic warnings. “There are things in the hills,” she said, “things best left untouched.” But Ravi, determined to uncover the truth, brushed aside her fears. He had always been drawn to the mysteries of India’s hidden past, and the idea of discovering a village lost in time, cursed by ancient rituals, seemed too tantalizing to ignore. The legend seemed like a puzzle waiting to be solved, and Ravi was sure that he could unravel it. With their backpacks packed and spirits high, the team set off toward the hills, ready for the adventure ahead. The journey would take them through dense forests and across treacherous terrain, but Ravi was undeterred. The thrill of discovery pulsed through his veins, and the more he thought about the lost village, the more determined he became to uncover its secrets.
As they ventured deeper into the hills, the weather grew colder, and the air thicker with an unsettling silence. The towering trees loomed like dark sentinels, their twisted branches reaching out like skeletal hands. The further they climbed, the more Ravi could feel the weight of history pressing down on them. The path grew steeper, and the terrain more rugged, yet there was an unspoken sense of purpose among the team. Ravi, ever the optimist, reassured everyone that they would find the village soon enough. But as the days passed, an uneasy tension began to settle among them. Sameer, though confident in his knowledge of the region, grew more reticent, sensing something amiss in the very air they breathed. Arjun, usually full of excitement, now looked over his shoulder more frequently, as though he too could sense the unseen presence in the hills. Ayesha, quiet and watchful, offered only fleeting glances toward the dense forest that surrounded them, her expression unreadable. Ravi, despite his growing unease, pressed forward, determined to push through the creeping doubts and discover the truth behind the legend. But deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching them, waiting for them to uncover the cursed village that had been hidden for so long. The journey was just beginning, and already the weight of the unknown seemed heavier than ever.
Chapter 2: Into the Hills
The landscape around them grew more treacherous as the group ascended higher into the hills. The trail, once a clear path, became nothing more than a narrow, winding strip of earth, flanked by dense trees and sharp, jagged rocks. The air was thin and crisp, the scent of pine and moss mingling with the earthy aroma of wet soil. Ravi pushed forward with renewed determination, leading the way with his map in hand, occasionally pausing to make a note of the landmarks. He was convinced that they were on the right track, but as the hours stretched into days, the sense of isolation began to grow. There was no sign of civilization, no distant lights, and no sound except the occasional chirp of a bird or the rustle of unseen creatures in the underbrush. It was as though the world outside had disappeared, and they were the last souls alive in the wild expanse of the hills.
Priya, ever the pragmatic one, grew more concerned with each passing hour. “We need to turn back,” she suggested on the second evening, her eyes scanning the darkening forest around them. “This is becoming dangerous. We’ve been off the grid for too long, and the weather is starting to turn.” But Ravi, his mind fixated on the mystery of the village, dismissed her concerns. “We’re so close,” he insisted, though the doubt that crept into his own heart made his voice waver. He had never been one to turn back from a challenge, and this was a challenge unlike any he had faced before. He couldn’t abandon it now—not when the village was so close, its secrets waiting to be uncovered.
Sameer, who had been silent for most of the journey, suddenly spoke up. “I’ve been in these hills all my life,” he said, his voice low and tense. “There are places… places where the land doesn’t want to be found. Some things here aren’t meant to be disturbed.” His words hung in the air, thick with warning. Priya shot him a skeptical look, but Ravi, unaware of the unease settling over his team, only nodded. “We’ll be fine. Just a little longer.” But as the sun dipped behind the mountains, the temperature dropped sharply, and the air took on an unnatural stillness. Even the insects seemed to fall silent. Ayesha, who had been walking ahead, stopped suddenly and turned to the group, her face drawn with worry. “The forest is watching us,” she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. “We should not linger too long.”
Ravi tried to dismiss her words as superstition, but the tension in the air was palpable, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. As they continued to climb, the trees grew taller and more twisted, their limbs curling into grotesque shapes. The shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally long, and the sounds of the forest—rustling leaves, the call of distant birds—became muffled, as if the very environment was trying to keep them out. Ayesha’s words, though cryptic, echoed in Ravi’s mind, and for the first time since starting this journey, he felt a gnawing sense of doubt.
The team pressed on in the growing dusk, each step heavier than the last. The village—if it truly existed—was close. But as they trekked deeper into the hills, a disconcerting feeling settled in Ravi’s chest. It wasn’t just the eerie silence or the unnerving landscape—it was the sense that they were being watched. The shadows seemed to creep closer with every passing minute, and the wind began to carry whispers—faint, almost imperceptible voices, too distant to understand. Ravi, trying to convince himself that it was just the wind, quickened his pace. But the forest had changed. It no longer felt like a place of mystery and discovery. It felt like a place of warning. They were not welcome. The hills were beginning to feel less like a haven for forgotten histories and more like a prison for lost souls.
As they made camp for the night, Sameer started a small fire, his hands shaking slightly as he fumbled with the wood. “We need to stay alert,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “There’s something out there.” Ravi nodded, but deep down, he too felt it—an undeniable sense of unease that had settled over him like a thick fog. Tonight, they would sleep under the open sky, surrounded by the looming trees. The village they sought was still out there, somewhere in the dark. But the longer they stayed in the hills, the more Ravi realized that finding it might come at a far greater cost than he had ever imagined. The questions he sought to answer were only the beginning. What awaited them at the end of this journey, however, was something far darker.
Chapter 3: The Forgotten Village
The next morning, a heavy fog blanketed the hills, swallowing the landscape in a ghostly mist. Ravi awoke with a lingering sense of unease, the remnants of a disturbing dream still fresh in his mind—visions of shadowy figures and abandoned homes lost to time. He shook it off as exhaustion and pushed forward, his curiosity about the village outweighing the growing discomfort that seemed to cling to the group. The fog made it impossible to see much beyond a few feet ahead, but Sameer led the way with practiced confidence, moving steadily through the thick mist. As they trudged forward, the dense forest began to open up, and after hours of navigating the steep incline, Ravi’s eyes widened as he caught his first glimpse of something remarkable.
Through the mist, the faint outline of buildings emerged—stone and wood structures, weathered by time yet still standing. The village was exactly as the legend had described: abandoned, forgotten by the world, and eerily preserved in a state of suspended animation. A sense of foreboding swept over the group as they reached the outskirts. The village was nestled at the foot of a steep mountain, surrounded by a dense thicket of trees. It looked as if no one had lived there for decades—perhaps even longer. Moss clung to the stone walls of the houses, and vines twisted around the wooden beams. The air was unnaturally still, the silence punctuated only by the distant cry of a lone bird somewhere in the trees. Despite the ominous atmosphere, Ravi felt a surge of exhilaration. This was what he had come for—the discovery, the unearthing of a hidden part of history.
As they cautiously entered the village, the sense of abandonment grew more pronounced. The streets were narrow, overgrown with weeds and wild plants, as if nature itself was slowly reclaiming what was once a thriving community. The homes, though intact, were decaying. Windows were boarded up with planks of wood, doors hung ajar, and piles of broken furniture lay strewn in the streets. The remnants of a life once lived, now abandoned without explanation. Ravi’s heart raced as he inspected a small stone building at the center of the village. It was a temple, its weathered facade carved with ancient symbols. He couldn’t help but be drawn to it. The faint traces of a ritualistic pattern were visible in the stonework, confirming his suspicions that this village was far more than a mere relic of history.
Priya and Sameer spread out to explore the other houses, while Ayesha lingered near the entrance of the village, her eyes darting nervously between the trees and the abandoned homes. “We shouldn’t be here,” she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible. Ravi glanced at her, his determination overshadowing the apprehension in her tone. “We’ve come this far. We need to document everything.” His voice was firm, though he couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling in his gut. Something about the place felt wrong—unnervingly still, as if it were holding its breath, waiting for something. A presence lingered in the air, though Ravi couldn’t yet put a name to it.
The group slowly ventured deeper into the village, each step echoing in the silence. In one of the houses, Ravi found remnants of a half-eaten meal, the food dried and rotting as if the inhabitants had fled mid-meal. Priya knelt to inspect an old, brittle book that lay abandoned on the floor. The pages, though yellowed with age, were still legible. It was an old ledger, filled with names and dates, many of which were crossed out, their meaning lost to time. Ravi’s heart raced as he examined the pages. The ledger seemed to be a record of sorts, but it was incomplete—fragmented. There were references to rituals, offerings, and strange occurrences, but nothing concrete enough to explain the village’s abandonment.
As they continued exploring, a disturbing realization settled over the group—there were no bodies. No signs of violence. No remains. It was as though the villagers had simply vanished without a trace, leaving behind only their homes, their belongings, and the unsettling echoes of their lives. Ravi’s excitement began to wane, replaced by a creeping dread. Why had they left? Where had they gone?
The most unsettling discovery came when they reached the farthest corner of the village. There, they found a well, its stone walls moss-covered and ancient. A long, thick vine hung down from the top, and as Ravi peered over the edge, he saw something strange—a faint, ghostly light flickering from the depths. His pulse quickened. “What is that?” he whispered, but Sameer, who had joined him, simply shook his head. “I’ve heard stories,” he said quietly. “But no one knows what happened here. Whatever was in this village, it’s still here.”
A heavy silence fell over the group as they stood at the edge of the well. The faint light flickered again, almost as if it were beckoning them forward. Ravi’s instincts screamed at him to turn back, but his curiosity was too strong. He took a step closer to the well, his hand reaching out. And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the light vanished. The group stood frozen, staring into the dark abyss of the well. There was no sound now, no movement. Just the oppressive silence that seemed to weigh down on them, as though the village itself was holding its breath, waiting for the next move.
Ravi knew one thing for certain—the village had secrets, and they were only just beginning to uncover them. The village might be forgotten, but it was far from empty. And the deeper they delved, the more they realized that they weren’t alone.
Chapter 4: The Temple of the Forgotten
As the afternoon sun began to dip behind the mountains, casting long shadows over the village, Ravi’s curiosity grew insatiable. The village, though desolate, seemed to pulse with an energy that he couldn’t quite place. The discovery of the well had shaken him, but it was the ancient temple at the heart of the village that called to him with an almost magnetic pull. The building, though weathered and worn by time, stood with an imposing presence that overshadowed the rest of the village. Intricate carvings adorned the stone pillars, and the entrance was framed by a series of faded symbols—shapes that appeared to be almost alive, twisting and shifting as the sun’s rays passed over them. Ravi’s breath caught in his throat as he realized that these were not mere decorations, but ancient, sacred symbols. They resembled nothing he had seen before in his years of studying India’s history.
“Come on,” Ravi called to his team, his voice filled with both urgency and awe. “The temple—this is where we’ll find the answers.” Priya, though skeptical, followed him with a resigned sigh, while Sameer and Ayesha lingered behind, exchanging uneasy glances. Ayesha, her face pale, murmured something under her breath as she reluctantly stepped closer to the temple. “We shouldn’t be here,” she muttered, her voice barely audible, but Ravi’s excitement drowned out her warnings.
The temple’s doors creaked as they pushed them open, the wood groaning with the weight of years of neglect. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of damp stone and age-old incense. The dim light filtering through the cracks in the walls revealed an altar at the far end of the room. The space was dominated by a large, stone idol, obscured by a heavy layer of dust and cobwebs. At first glance, the idol appeared to be a deity, but as Ravi moved closer, he felt a chill creep down his spine. The figure was twisted and contorted, its features distorted in a grotesque, almost monstrous way. Its eyes were hollow, empty voids that seemed to follow his every movement, and its hands were outstretched, as if beckoning them closer. The idol’s presence was oppressive, as though it was watching them, waiting for something.
Ravi, his heart racing, stepped forward, unable to tear his eyes away from the idol. He noticed strange symbols carved into the base, almost identical to those outside. But the carvings were more detailed here, depicting a series of ritualistic acts—offerings, sacrifices, and… children. As Ravi traced the patterns with his fingers, his breath caught in his throat. There was no mistaking it—the images depicted the villagers offering their children to this entity, a dark god that resided in the hills. The rituals were terrifying, their brutality unmistakable. It was clear that this wasn’t a simple act of worship—it was a desperate plea for survival. The villagers had surrendered their children to this god in exchange for protection, but it had not been enough. The god had grown angry, and the village had fallen into ruin.
Priya, who had been quietly inspecting the walls, suddenly gasped. She had found a faded mural on the far wall, barely visible through the layers of grime and decay. As she wiped away the dust, the image became clearer. The mural showed the village—its people, gathered in a circle, holding their children out to the god. But something in the mural was different. The children’s faces were not serene or peaceful. They were twisted, their eyes wide with terror, as though they knew the horror that awaited them. It was a haunting, eerie image that sent a shiver down Ravi’s spine. The village had not just abandoned its children; it had sacrificed them, believing that such offerings would appease the god. But the god had turned on them, and the villagers had fled, leaving their cursed homes behind.
Suddenly, a low, guttural sound echoed from deep within the temple, breaking the silence that had settled over them. The group froze, hearts pounding in unison. Ayesha’s face turned white as a sheet, and Sameer’s grip on his rifle tightened. “Did you hear that?” Priya whispered, her voice trembling. Ravi, though shaken, pushed forward, his instinct to uncover the truth overpowering his fear. The sound had come from deeper within the temple. It was almost like a whisper, a voice that seemed to call them, urging them to come closer.
Ravi turned to the group. “We need to find out what that is,” he said, his voice firm, though a sense of unease clawed at him. Priya hesitated, but Sameer nodded, agreeing to investigate. Ayesha, however, remained motionless, her eyes wide with fear. “I told you,” she whispered hoarsely. “The village is not empty. It’s waiting.” But Ravi’s determination was unshaken. They had come this far, and he wasn’t about to turn back now. They pressed on, moving deeper into the temple’s heart.
The passage beyond the altar was narrow, the air growing colder with every step. As they moved through the tunnel-like corridor, the walls began to close in on them, the carvings becoming more elaborate, more sinister. The whispers grew louder, and Ravi’s skin prickled as though invisible eyes were watching them from the shadows. Finally, they reached a small chamber at the end of the tunnel. The air was thick with dust and decay, and the room seemed to pulse with an unseen energy. In the center of the room was a stone pedestal, upon which lay an old, weathered book. Its cover was adorned with the same symbols they had seen in the temple, and as Ravi reached for it, a faint, echoing laugh filled the chamber—a child’s laughter, sweet and innocent, but twisted with a dark, mocking tone.
Ravi’s heart skipped a beat as he opened the book. The pages were yellowed with age, but the ink was still legible. As he began to read aloud, a chill ran through the room. The text was a prayer, a chant meant to summon the god and plead for mercy. But there was something else—something darker. The final page contained a warning: “To stop the god is to end the cycle. To end the cycle is to break the curse. But beware—the cost is greater than you can imagine.” The words burned into his mind as he looked up, his eyes wide with horror. The god was not just a force of nature. It was a cycle, one that could never be broken easily, and the village had been bound to it for eternity. The cost of breaking the curse would be far more than they had ever anticipated.
Suddenly, the laughter stopped. Silence returned, but it was no longer peaceful. It was suffocating, heavy with an impending threat. The temple, the village, the god—they were all connected in ways they could not yet understand. And as the group stood in the chamber, the weight of the curse settled over them like a dark cloud, and Ravi realized that they were not just investigating the past—they were caught in a living nightmare, one that would demand more than they were prepared to give.
Chapter 5: The Spirit Awakens
The air in the temple grew colder as Ravi closed the ancient book, the final page burning itself into his memory. His hands trembled as he placed it back on the stone pedestal, the eerie laughter still echoing in his ears, though it had faded. He stood motionless, trying to process the chilling words, but it was as though his mind was unable to make sense of it all. The god, the curse, the cycle—he had thought he was seeking knowledge, but now, faced with the terrifying reality of what they had uncovered, the cost of that knowledge seemed almost too great to bear.
Ayesha was the first to break the silence, her voice a whisper, hoarse with fear. “We shouldn’t have come here,” she said, her words trembling in the still air. “We’ve awakened something that’s been sleeping for centuries. And now it’s hungry.” Her warning felt like a blow, but Ravi, still reeling from the shock of the revelation, tried to shake it off. They were too far in now to turn back. “We need to understand this,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “This curse… it’s not just about the villagers. It’s about what’s trapped here. And we need to stop it.”
Sameer, ever the pragmatist, stepped forward. “I’ve heard stories,” he said, his eyes scanning the dark corners of the temple as if expecting something to materialize. “But no one knows the truth. No one knows what really happened to those people. And from the look of it, we might never find out. What we do know is this god… whatever it is, it’s not something we can simply ‘stop.’ It feeds on fear, on innocence. And it’s still here. We can feel it.”
A deep, unsettling chill swept through the room, and suddenly, the flickering of a torch caught Ravi’s attention. He spun around to find that the shadows seemed to move, stretching unnaturally along the walls of the temple. It was as though the very air had thickened, and the space around them had grown heavier. A whisper, faint but distinct, filled his ears. It was a voice, distant and ethereal, but unmistakably human. The words were indistinguishable at first, but then they began to make sense.
“Help me… help us… help them…”
The voice was followed by a soft rustling sound, as though something—or someone—was moving in the shadows. Priya, who had been eerily quiet since they entered the temple, grabbed Ravi’s arm. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with disbelief. “That wasn’t just a whisper,” she whispered urgently. “That was real. It came from inside here.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, her earlier skepticism vanishing into thin air.
Ravi’s pulse quickened. He could feel the tension in the air, as though the very walls of the temple were alive, watching them, listening to their every word. The village, now more than ever, seemed like a living, breathing entity—one that had been waiting for them, for someone to uncover its secrets. But now that they had, the village had begun to stir once again, like a great beast waking from an eternal slumber.
Suddenly, the ground beneath them trembled. A low rumble echoed through the stone floor, and the temple walls groaned in protest. Ravi’s heart pounded in his chest as the tremors intensified, rattling the stone statues and the altar. The ceiling, covered in vines and dust, seemed to shift as if something heavy was pressing down from above. The entire temple was alive, responding to their presence, to their intrusion. A low, guttural sound vibrated through the walls—a sound that was neither animal nor human, but something in between. It was the sound of the god, the ancient being that had ruled over this forsaken village, now waking from its long slumber.
Ayesha clutched her chest, her breathing shallow. “It’s here,” she gasped. “It’s awake. And it’s angry.” Her words barely made it out, swallowed by the growing intensity of the rumblings. The shadows in the temple began to move in unnatural patterns, twisting and shifting as if they were alive. The very air seemed charged with a palpable energy, and Ravi could feel it pulling at him, calling to him in ways he couldn’t understand.
A scream pierced the stillness. It wasn’t from anyone in the group, but it was unmistakably real—a cry of terror, distant and haunting. The sound came from the village outside, echoing off the empty stone walls. It was a child’s cry, faint but clear, a sound that seemed to reverberate through the very marrow of their bones. And then, the whispers began again, louder this time—voices, calling from every direction, overlapping, rising in intensity.
“Leave… leave… or stay forever…”
The temperature in the room dropped sharply, and Ravi’s breath came out in visible puffs. He instinctively reached for his flashlight, but the beam flickered before going completely dark. Panic surged in his chest, and for the first time since their arrival, he realized the full gravity of their situation. The village, the curse—it was all connected to something much larger than they had anticipated. It wasn’t just the god; it was the spirits of the children who had been sacrificed, their souls trapped in an endless loop of fear and torment.
Sameer stepped forward, his voice strained with urgency. “We need to get out of here. Now.” He turned to leave the temple, but the moment he moved toward the entrance, a loud crack split the air. The door to the temple slammed shut with a force that rattled the building. Ravi’s heart skipped a beat. They were trapped.
The walls seemed to close in around them. The whispers grew louder, more frantic, and the temperature plummeted further. The god’s presence was palpable now, a suffocating force that filled the room, pushing in on them from every direction. The ground beneath their feet trembled again, and this time, it was accompanied by the unmistakable sound of footsteps—slow, deliberate steps that echoed from the darkness.
A dark shape appeared at the far end of the room. At first, it was just a silhouette, but then it became clearer—twisted and grotesque, a figure that seemed to distort the very space around it. It was the god, but not as they had expected. Its form was a mass of shifting shadows, its face obscured by layers of darkness, but its eyes—those hollow, unblinking eyes—glowed with a sickly light. And then, it spoke. Its voice was like a thousand whispers rolled into one, low and guttural.
“You should have stayed away.”
The words reverberated in Ravi’s mind, sinking into his very soul. The god’s presence was overwhelming, and Ravi knew, with a sinking certainty, that their survival depended on breaking the curse. But how? They had no answers, no time left. Only the terror that surrounded them, tightening its grip with each passing second.
And in that moment, Ravi realized the truth: the village was not abandoned. It was waiting for them.
