"When the hunted gather and share their tales,
The forest leans in, the silence inhales.
Laughter may rise, and fear may sleep,
But something beneath begins to creep."
It was an old brick home, slightly bent with time, with faded blue-painted doors, honeycomb cracks across the walls, and an iron wind chime that never moved, even in wind.
But today—it buzzed with voices.
All seven had gathered.
Abhay stood near the broken window, arms folded, as Kabir, Arjun, Mitali, Aarti, Sakshi, and Dev filled the room with voices and the occasional nervous laugh.
The daylight peeked through the curtains like it wasn't invited.
Mitali flopped on the floor dramatically, "Okay, okay, updates time. Let's call it the 'Bhairavpur Files'!"
Arjun snorted. "Yeah, except we're all terrible detectives."
Kabir smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
They began sharing.
Mitali: "That temple? Empty. I mean, dusty, no idol. Just weird vibes and forgotten gods. Nothing crazy."
Aarti chimed in: "Yeah, yeah. I mean—what's the worst? Just a creepy old place, right? Super Insta-unfriendly."
Dev added, "I checked near the fields. The ground's all messed up. Like… overturned recently. But probably just wild boars or something."
Abhay didn't react.
Kabir laughed, forced: "You should've seen the guy I spoke to near the grocer's. Said there was a man who went blind just from looking at a 'stone' in the woods. Ha! I mean, what even is that?"
His hand trembled when he raised the glass of water.
Sakshi walked in from the kitchen.
She placed some chips and tea on the table, trying to lift the mood.
"Okay guys let's forget the ghost stories for today. Let's talk normal stuff. Like—how absolutely annoying Dev's snoring is!"
Laughter.
For a moment—it felt like a normal reunion. Old friends, college jokes, warm snacks, tired sarcasm.
Even Abhay cracked a half-smile when Aarti impersonated the strange villager who offered her a "blessing nut" to "keep the dreams clean."
But outside…
A crow perched on the edge of the roof, head tilted. Watching. Silent.
And in the hallway…
The mirror by the door fogged over.
Nobody had breathed on it.
As the jokes slowed, Kabir got up and walked outside for air.
Abhay followed.
Kabir stood staring into the dusky sky. His voice was low.
"You ever feel like… this village is pretending? Like everyone knows something but they just keep smiling?"
Abhay looked at him carefully.
"That's what people do when they're scared, Kabir. They smile. Until their mouths bleed."
Kabir didn't laugh.
Inside, Mitali picked up a folded piece of paper from under the couch. "What's this?"
Aarti peeked. It had a name written on it.
But the name changed when she blinked.
It went from "Kabir" to "Kabira" to "K A R "—and then blank.
She put it back, said nothing.
Later, as the sun dipped behind the hills, casting the house into a strange reddish glow, they all sat in a circle with candlelight flickering between them.
They made a vow.
"No fear," they said. "We stick together. No more ghost nonsense. Just facts."
But every sentence shared that evening was missing one thing—the real things they saw. The real things they felt.
Because none of them wanted to be the first to admit…
They were all already marked.
"The night is patient, it waits through cheer,
For fools to gather and mask their fear.
In jokes they lie, in silence they sin
But the village always collects its kin."