The night had grown deep. The moon was hidden behind the clouds, and a strange chill lingered in the air. Five friends — Arjun, Siya, Kabir, Meera, and Aman — walked along an old forest path, their flashlights and backpacks in hand.
"This is the place…" Arjun pointed at an old map. It had once belonged to his grandfather, and it mentioned a mysterious tunnel.
In front of them stood a moss-covered wall with a rusted iron door. Strange carvings were etched into it — like the coils of a snake.
"Oh my God, this feels straight out of a horror movie," Kabir muttered, shivering but trying to laugh it off.
"Don't be scared, man. So far, it's just a door," Aman said, patting his back.
Siya raised her torch and began reading a line engraved on the door. It was written in an ancient script:
"Three paths, three fates. One will lead to freedom, the other two will drag you into the depths of darkness."
Sweat trickled down Meera's forehead. "So… that means once we go in, there'll be three doors? And only one will be the right one?"
Arjun's voice was steady, serious. "Yes. That's the game… and we have to win it."
Slowly, Aman pushed the door open. It creaked, and the tunnel's darkness swallowed them whole. A cold gust swept past, like the hiss of a serpent.
Their steps grew heavier, but curiosity and thrill kept pulling them forward. Before them stretched a long, endless corridor of shadows… and somewhere in its depths, perhaps, three doors awaited them.