Chapter 2: Silence
Inside the hut, the fire in the clay stove had long gone out. The lamp's flame trembled on the walls, and the aroma of dinner still lingered faintly in the air.
Bajrang and Kira sat on a mat, laughing heartily.
In the middle of their giggles, Kira smudged dust on Bajrang's forehead.
"Look at you! You really look like a ghost from the fields now!"
Kira couldn't stop laughing.
Bajrang smiled too and replied,
"Then what are you? The cranky witch?"
Kira picked up a pillow and was just about to hit him when—
Choo... choo...
A bird perched near the window suddenly flew away.
A gentle chill entered through the room — and on the window, a shadow appeared.
Dark, unmoving, and completely black.
Two burning eyes — like glowing embers.
It was peering into the room through the bars of the window.
Moonlight filled the outside, yet the shadow cast no reflection on the ground.
Kira didn't feel anything — but Bajrang's father, who had been lying still on the bed till now,
suddenly opened his eyes.
His breath was deep, but his gaze was sharp.
For a moment, he looked silently toward the window, then slowly rose and began walking out.
His body was strong, but there was an unusual smile on his face.
---
"Father!"
Bajrang called out.
Kira joined in —
"Where are you going at this hour?"
He paused for a second.
The muscles in his shoulders tightened — like someone caught doing something wrong.
He turned slowly.
A faint smile on his face, but something hidden in his eyes.
"Nothing... just need to check near the well beside the fields… might be an animal."
"Now?"
Kira frowned.
"Yes, now. You two stay inside. Lock the door."
And with that, he left —
but his pace was quick, and his eyes fixed on a corner of the sky
where the darkness looked just a little too thick.
Outside, his footsteps faded into the silence.
Inside, only the scent of the extinguished fire and Bajrang's slow breaths remained.
Kira was just about to close the door when—
Crack!
The window on the far side of the hut creaked open on its own — and
a faint shadow slipped inside.
Footsteps — but not of a village man.
Soft, soundless. Yet, the air in the room froze.
A man entered — tall, dressed in a clean robe, a black turban on his head, eyes glowing — and a calmness in his movements that evoked fear.
Kira instantly went silent.
Her lips dried, eyes widened — as if she recognized him.
The man knelt down and spoke softly —
"Little Mistress, your father still drowns in your memories. I've come to take you back."
Kira didn't respond.
Her breaths were sharp, face pale.
The air had grown heavy.
The trembling flame of the lamp on the wall seemed to want to say something, but remained silent.
The smell of memories rose faintly from the ashes of the stove.
Facing away from the door, the stranger stood — tall, composed, unnervingly calm.
His eyes glowed — brighter than dreams, deeper than nightmares.
Bajrang looked from the stranger to Kira.
Her face had gone completely pale — lips parted, eyes still, soul somewhere far away.
"Who… are you?"
Bajrang's voice was unsteady — but his eyes burned with the same fire his father once held when he stood unflinching before a lion.
The stranger looked at him for a moment — then said in a soft voice:
"For you — a shadow.
For Kira — the past.
For this moment — a messenger."
Bajrang couldn't understand.
But his hand slowly clenched into a fist.
"I've come to take the little mistress."
Those words echoed off the walls — as if time froze.
Kira's head lowered — as if there was a truth she had hidden, but could no longer keep secret.
"No."
Bajrang stepped forward.
"You can't take her."
For the first time, something flickered in the stranger's eyes — not anger, not fear… just a passing thought.
"I haven't come to fight, boy."
His voice was gentle — and strangely sympathetic.
"But I have come to fight!"
Bajrang's heart pounded, as if each word was walking across burning coals.
He charged forward — a direct punch to the stranger's chest.
But it was like the man wasn't even there — Bajrang's fist passed right through thin air.
THUD!
In a flash, Bajrang was lifted and thrown to the ground.
His body convulsed, chest burning. Blood poured from his mouth.
Kira gasped — but her voice wouldn't come out.
Bajrang lay on the floor — but his eyes were still on Kira's, wide and pleading.
His broken breath spoke only one thing —
"Don't go..."
The stranger now knelt, speaking softly —
"Little Mistress, if I wished… I could cause this boy much more pain.
But I know it would hurt you.
So — you must choose."
Kira still trembled.
She looked at the man… then at Bajrang.
"No… no..."
Tears streamed down her face.
She made her final choice —
She knelt beside Bajrang, placing her forehead against his.
"Forgive me..."
Her voice cracked.
"I can't watch you die, Bajrang."
Bajrang's eyes were barely open — blood trickling down his lips.
Kira stood — and without looking back, followed the stranger.
The doorframe was still open.
Moonlight poured across it — like a white sheet draped over old memories.
Kira and the stranger had gone.
Bajrang lay there, bloodied.
His shoulder torn, a line of blood trailing from his forehead, but his eyes — still fixed on the door.
As if waiting…
For someone to return, just once, to look back.
But nothing came.
Only the silence of night, and the trembling flame of the lamp.
---
Bajrang slowly placed his hand against the ground, trying to rise.
His breaths were shaky, but courage still burned.
His hand trembled, but his fingers knew how to grip the earth.
He stood up.
"Ki… Kira!"
His voice was broken — like a frightened child calling in sleep.
Then suddenly — he screamed.
"KIRA!!"
The cry came not from his mouth — but from his heart.
He ran —
barefoot, thoughtless.
The hut's door disappeared behind him.
Ash from the yard clung to his heels.
He ran through darkness — through thorns and dry grass.
"Where did you go!"
His breath was heavy, eyes soaked in tears.
"Why did you leave… without saying anything?"
But the forest was silent.
As if the whole world had heard him — and chosen not to respond.
Bajrang ran — through forests, valleys — to a rocky hill.
His body gave in, breath gone… but his heart still called out to Kira.
And then — darkness.
As his knees hit the ground, his consciousness wavered.
His heartbeat faltered. His vision blurred…
Before his eyes fully closed, he saw a faint figure.
And then — a voice he knew.
> "Bajrang!!"
It was Kira.
And behind her — the same shadow.
Kira yanked her hand from the stranger and rushed to Bajrang, dropping to her knees.
Tears streamed down her face.
> "You idiot… why did you run? You don't understand… what they are..."
Deep in the forest, in the hush of the mountains…
Kira hovered over Bajrang's bloodied body. Her fingers trembled… words barely forming:
"Should we leave him here… at someone's home?"
Just then, the shadow — that mysterious man — spoke in a cold, cryptic voice:
> "Not yet..."
Kira slowly turned, eyes full of questions:
> "What?"
He looked at her for a few moments — saw her confused innocence — then took a deep breath and said in a slow, firm voice:
> "You don't know how dangerous it is to return there right now."
Kira's eyes narrowed:
> "Why? Why can't we go back? That's our home. Our family..."
The shadow's gaze now drifted far away — as if old wounds had reopened.
> "You don't understand, Kira... for now, nothing will happen. It's quiet. But if something happens to this boy... then..."
A cold silence spread.
> "Then what?" Kira whispered.
The man, now seeming to wrestle with his own words, said:
> "Then... not our whole family, but… something will break. Something we can never fix."
A long pause.
Then, he stepped forward and looked toward the sky:
> "This boy… must be left here. I saw an old man at the base of the hill. He lives alone… but he's safe."
He turned to Kira —
> "We'll leave him there. And go quietly."
The man picked up the unconscious, bleeding Bajrang —
and together they walked a stony path to a small, broken, but clean house. Outside was a tulsi plant, a few pieces of firewood, and the scent of a burning chimney.
They gently laid Bajrang at the doorstep.
Kira stroked his forehead, then silently stood up.
She knocked on the door — three times.
No sound came from inside.
They waited for a few seconds.
Then the shadow said softly —
> "We have to go… we can't wait any longer."
And just like that — they vanished into the night.
Sometimes, strangers don't knock on doors… they reach straight into your soul. And when the past comes calling your name — silence turns into a scream.