Vihaan's gaze shifted upward, his crimson eyes glinting dangerously as they locked onto the grand chandelier swaying above the hall. Gauri followed his eyes and gasped, horror flooding her veins.
"No… Vihaan, no!" she whispered, backing away.
His hand rose slowly, fingers curling like the grip of fate itself. At once, the heavy chandelier creaked, its golden chains straining, glass crystals trembling with the weight of impending doom.
CRRREEEAAAK!
The sound tore through the silence as the chandelier came crashing down—straight toward Gauri.
Her scream ripped the air as she squeezed her eyes shut, her heart slamming in her chest. Everyone around—frozen, helpless—watched in horror.
But instead of pain, instead of darkness, Gauri felt warmth.
She opened her eyes—her breath hitched.
Vihaan stood in front of her, arms spread wide, his body shielding hers. The massive chandelier had come crashing down on him instead, its sharp crystal edges and metal framework piercing into his flesh. Blood trickled down, staining his shirt, pooling beneath him.
"Vihaan!" Gauri's cry cracked, echoing through the hall. Her trembling hands clutched his shoulders, eyes wide with shock and grief.
Vihaan staggered, coughing as blood touched his lips, but his gaze stayed on her—soft, pained, and yet commanding.
"Run…" he rasped.
She shook her head violently, tears streaming. "No… I won't leave you!"
His hand trembled as he shoved her back lightly. "Run, Gauri!" he roared, his voice echoing with desperation, with a power that pierced through her frozen fear.
Her legs felt weak, her soul torn apart, but she stumbled to her feet, shaking, eyes glued to the bloodied figure of the man who had just saved her.
"Vihaan…" she whispered, her voice breaking.
He met her gaze one last time, his lips forming the word again—
"Runnnnnn!"
Gauri turned and bolted out of the mansion, her vision blurred by tears, her breath ragged. The cold night air hit her face as she staggered into the garden.
Her chest burned, her limbs trembled, her head spun. The last thing she saw was the moonlit sky above, before her body collapsed onto the grass. Darkness swallowed her whole.
Inside the mansion, the spell holding the family broke the moment Gauri fled. One by one, they stumbled forward, their limbs free again, only to freeze in horror at the sight before them.
Vihaan, blood dripping from his lips, gritted his teeth and summoned what little strength remained. With a pained roar, he raised his trembling hands. The shattered chandelier that had impaled him creaked and groaned as it slowly lifted itself from his body, swaying in midair before crashing aside.
He collapsed to his knees, clutching his wound, crimson staining the marble floor.
"Vihaan!" Sharda and Urvashi rushed forward, catching him before he could fall completely. Yug dropped beside him, pressing his hand against the bleeding wound with frantic desperation. Raani sobbed, holding his arm as if her touch alone could stop the life from draining out of him.
Dadi's voice cracked with grief. "My boy… my brave boy…"
Shyom's eyes widened with helplessness, torn between fear and disbelief.
But Vihaan, his breaths shallow, tried to wave them back. "Don't… don't worry about me…" His voice was faint, broken.
"Where's Veena bhabhi?!" Urvashi cried, looking around with panic. "We need her now—her son is dying!"
As if on cue, footsteps echoed from the staircase. Everyone's heads snapped upward.
Veena descended slowly, her saree brushing against the steps, her face unreadable.
"There!" Dadi's eyes lit with fragile hope. "Veena, look—look at your son's condition! He needs his mother's hand, your strength to keep him alive!"
But instead of rushing to Vihaan's side, Veena stood still. Her expression was unnervingly calm, even cruel. Her eyes glimmered with something alien.
Sharda's stomach dropped. She narrowed her gaze, clutching Vihaan tighter. "No… this isn't Veena."
The others turned to her in shock. "What are you saying?"
A slow, sinister smile curled across Veena's lips.
And then her form began to waver—her body dissolving into thick, black fog that seeped down the staircase like a living shadow. Gasps and cries filled the air as the fog twisted and coiled, reshaping itself.
When it cleared, a figure stood revealed.
A woman in a black saree, its silver threads gleaming like moonlight on venom. Her ornaments glistened darkly, coiled with serpentine motifs. Her braid slithered behind her, its tip ending in the snapping head of a snake. And her eyes—golden, serpentine, ancient—pierced into them with burning malice.
The elders' voices trembled as one name left their lips.
"Kamini…"
The witch's laughter echoed against the walls, cold and triumphant. She lifted her arms as if claiming the house itself.
"Yes," she declared, her voice like silk laced with poison. "Kamini is back."
The room quaked with her words. Shadows danced along the walls. And in that moment, the Kotharis knew—the real nightmare had only just begun.
To be continued…