Outside, the sky suddenly split with a thunderous lightning strike, and at that very moment, the entire apartment lost power. Darkness engulfed the room, broken only by the fleeting flashes of lightning through the windows, turning the space momentarily white.
But strangely, the pitch-black room was suddenly filled with the ethereal scent of roses. It was as if thousands of fresh red roses had instantly surrounded the space.
Henry stood in his darkened room, taking a deep breath. As the fragrance filled his lungs, his golden eyes blazed like a tiger's in the dark. The mystical glow spread across his face, and he felt his blood surge with fire.
At that moment, a shadow appeared near the door.
Lightning flashed again, and in that single second of illumination, Henry saw her—Ananya standing there. She wore the black silk night dress. Her loose hair cascaded over her shoulders. Without her glasses, her eyes looked different—deep, blending vengeance and desire into one. The intense scent of roses seemed to emanate from her very being.
Henry froze for a moment. His heart felt as if it would burst through his chest. He could no longer control himself. Almost madly, he lunged toward Ananya.
Henry (in a frenzied voice): "Laboni! You've come! This… this is my old dream! I knew you would return in black. This scent, this darkness… tonight I want to forget everything!"
Henry stopped right in front of her. His golden eyes trembled. He wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her close. Ananya offered no resistance, but her lips held that mysterious, knowing smile.
Henry brought his face near her neck, inhaling the scent of the roses. It was as if he had been struck by a deadly intoxication.
Ananya (in a calm, cold voice): "You're losing yourself, Henry. Don't you see? This rose scent is neutralizing the power the sorcerer gave you. Tonight, modern science and ancient magic will clash in this very room—and one will prevail."
But Henry was beyond reason. He held her arm, staring into her eyes with his golden gaze.
Henry: "I am ready to be destroyed, Ananya! If I can burn in this form of yours, I want nothing more. Tell me—will you be only mine tonight?"
Ananya slowly ran her hand through Henry's hair. Would the bluish liquid on her fingers now begin to work on his body? Or would Henry's near-mad love ruin all her plans?
Amid the sound of rain and thunder outside, suddenly a strange, mystical music began to play. Henry had activated the room's sound system via Bluetooth. The bluish light in the corner glowed softly, casting both of their shadows on the wall in an almost supernatural tableau.
Henry placed one hand on Ananya's shoulder and wrapped the other around her waist. They began to dance—but this was no ordinary dance. It was a highly professional, ballroom-style dance, impossible for an ordinary person. Every step, every beat was perfectly synchronized between them.
Henry's golden eyes glowed in the dark. He spun her as though they were floating above the ground, not standing on it. Her black night dress billowed in the rhythm of their movements. Sometimes he leaned her low, then pulled her up to his chest in the blink of an eye.
Henry (while dancing, looking into her eyes): "Surprised? Laboni from twenty years ago had no idea how skilled I was at this dance. Today, see how our bodies speak, how our breaths have become one."
Ananya was initially taken aback, but she was not one to be overwhelmed. A modern woman, she moved with the rhythm, matching him step for step. Their dance flowed so smoothly it seemed like a cinematic dream sequence. Intoxicated by the scent of roses, Henry moved her through complex, elegant motions.
When lightning flashed and the room turned white, one could see Ananya's calm, piercing gaze and Henry's frenzied golden eyes. At one point, Henry lifted her into the air and spun her around mid-step.
Ananya (whispering close to him): "This dance is hypnotic, Henry. But do you know? Every dance must end. And when it does, there is no melody—only silent darkness."
Henry gave no answer. As the song reached its final beat, he held her close, still. Both of their chests rose and fell rapidly. The fragrance of roses and the rhythm of the music had merged into one.
Henry brushed a strand of wet hair from her face. His hands trembled. Could he escape this enchantment? Or would this intoxicating dance push them both to the edge of destruction?
Somehow, the night passed in the spell of the dance and the rose fragrance. Dawn's golden light pierced through the curtains, waking Ananya. Her body felt numb, her head throbbed, as if the music and scent of the night were still spinning inside her brain.
Opening her eyes, her heart skipped a beat. She was still lying in bed, and Henry held her tightly, still asleep. His golden eyes were now calm, but the warmth of his body reminded her that none of last night had been a dream. On the table lay her heavy glasses, now just a piece of glass.
Ananya quietly freed herself from his embrace. Her head still throbbed painfully. She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her disheveled hair and the black night dress. Was she stepping into the same trap Laboni had once faced? No—she was Ananya.
She quickly splashed cold water on her face in the bathroom. Then she retrieved her symbol of authority—a deep blue formal shirt. She paired it with a suitable bottom and prepared herself completely. Buttoning the shirt, she remembered the scent of roses from the previous night. Today, she would return to the office as the formidable officer, with no hint of mercy in her eyes.
She picked up her glasses from the table. As soon as she put them on, her vision became sharp and clear again. She looked at Henry sleeping, perhaps dreaming some beautiful dream. Ananya bit her lip, thinking silently:
Ananya: "Today, it's your turn to be surprised, Henry. You thought you had conquered me, but today I will uncover the true source of your sorcery and your power."
Silently, she left the room. The clack of her shoes echoed through the stairwell. When she settled into her car, her eyes focused only on office files and her blueprint of revenge. She knew that the battle of these two days was about to take a new turn. Ananya was sitting in her office, scanning the hidden drives on her laptop, when she suddenly found an audio file and some blurry photos in a digital backup of a crime file from twenty years ago. The sorcerer's name was Kalbhairav. According to the files, this sorcerer was no ordinary human; he could transform human hatred and unfulfilled desire into pure power.
As Ananya studied the map of the sorcerer's lair with intense focus, a familiar knock echoed at the office door:
"Knock… knock… knock!"
Ananya quickly closed the laptop and adjusted her glasses on her nose. Pulling her blue shirt collar taut, she spoke in a serious voice:
Ananya: "Come in."
The door opened, and in walked an elderly man in police uniform—Inspector Jaman, an old acquaintance. He approached Ananya's desk.
Jaman: "Ma'am, we've received some disturbing information regarding the sorcerer you were investigating. He's no longer in the city; he resides at an old crematorium temple. But the most frightening part is—Henry left for there this very morning."
Ananya rose from her chair, her face resolute.
Ananya: "Why has he gone there, Inspector Jaman? Is he trying to enhance his powers?"
Jaman: "No, ma'am. Our sources say he wants to break the 'love contract' he made with you and revert to his terrifying vampire form. He realized he's becoming weak in front of your magic."
Ananya took the car key from her purse. She understood—this was the last chance. If Henry lost his humanity entirely and became the vampire again, no one could stop him.
As she moved toward the door, she looked back at Inspector Jaman.
Ananya: "Keep the backup forces ready, Jaman. I'm going alone. Everything that began twenty years ago will end there today."
Ananya rolled up the sleeves of her deep blue shirt and quickly reached the crumbling doors of the abandoned temple, surrounded by dense jungle. The burnt scent of crematorium ash and the howling wind created an eerie atmosphere. She took a deep breath and knocked firmly on the door.
A supernatural, heavy, and solemn voice echoed from inside:
Sorcerer: "Come, Mother… I knew you would come today. Don't be late!"
Ananya froze. The sorcerer had known she was coming? She glanced back—Henry had not arrived yet. Only the empty dark path lay outside. She drew in a steady breath and stepped into the temple.
Inside, the sight froze her blood. Black candles flickered everywhere. In the center of the floor was a massive skull surrounded by a sorcerer's symbol drawn in blood. Amid the smoke of the fire sat an ancient skeleton, its eyes glowing red—Kalbhairav.
Ananya (firmly): "So you were the one who gave Henry that cursed power? I've come to end this."
Kalbhairav (with a terrifying laugh): "I give nothing, Mother. I only orchestrate. Henry gave me his soul; I gave him form. But why have you come today? Don't you know why Henry comes here with his golden gaze?"
Ananya stepped closer to the sorcerer. Her glasses sparkled in the firelight.
Ananya: "I know why he's coming. But I want to know first—how can the contract binding him be broken? I may be a woman of science, but every poison has an antidote."
Kalbhairav (looking into her eyes): "There is only one way, Mother. But you will not be able to endure it. Henry's invincible body will turn to ashes only when he pours his own blood on what he treasures most. But he loves you… can he spill his own blood upon you?"
At that moment, a vehicle stirred up dust and stopped outside. Ananya flinched. Henry had arrived! His furious golden gaze pierced through the broken walls into the temple.
Kalbhairav: "Hide, Mother! If Henry sees you here, he will lose all reason."
Ananya quickly ducked behind a massive idol in the temple. Her heart pounded like a hammer. She tried to control her breath.
Henry burst in as the door crashed open. The candles flared, the familiar scent of his body mixed with the sorcerer's incense, creating a suffocating atmosphere. Henry stood before the sorcerer. His golden eyes blazed like fire.
Henry (roaring): "You said these eyes are a mark of my power! But now with these eyes, I only see her! I cannot find peace, Kalbhairav! Ananya's magic poisoned my blood. I can neither kill her nor live without her!"
Kalbhairav stared at Henry's golden eyes with a cunning grin.
Kalbhairav: "That's as it should be, Henry. You wanted to be a vampire, yet in a corner of your heart, you still loved Laboni. That love now shines through your golden eyes. That is not power—it is your defeat."
Henry (rubbing the knife on his palm): "I do not know how to lose. Tell me how to cut this love! I want to be the old, unyielding Henry again—the one who trembled at no one."
From her hiding place, Ananya watched it all. She saw the proud, arrogant man now kneel before a sorcerer, tormented, seeking only to calm the turmoil in his heart.
Kalbhairav: "There is a way. But you, Mother, must endure a trial. Tonight is the full moon. If you can make him relinquish the love in his golden eyes in the fire of this temple ritual, he will become the old ruthless Henry once more. But remember—once that love is gone, there will be no mercy in his heart for you ever again. Are you ready to end him permanently?"
Henry paused. His golden glow dimmed once, then blazed again. Slowly, he spoke:
Henry: "Yes. I am ready. I will no longer live with this weakness. Tonight, I will end Ananya with my own hands."
Ananya shivered behind the idol. The Henry she had known last night was now returning to the old vampire form. Her fists clenched. She wondered whether to act now or wait a little longer. She stood like stone behind the idol. Tears welled in her eyes, but she clenched her teeth. She said no prayers—she knew no god would save her in this cruel world. Her hand reached for the special chemical vial in her pocket. She was a soldier of modern science—she would not bow to the supernatural.
Kalbhairav intensified the ritual fire. The blazing flames licked Henry's face.
Kalbhairav: "Henry, step forward! Look into the fire! Sacrifice the love in your golden eyes in this flame. Think of her face—you aim to tear her apart tonight!"
Henry moved toward the fire like a mesmerized man. But then something strange happened. Heat rolled down from his golden eyes. Were these tears of pain, or the last cries of his remaining humanity?
Ananya (thinking): "No. I cannot let this happen. If he becomes stone again, no one will save Sarah or Rehani."
Ananya did not hesitate. She stepped from her hiding place. In her deep blue shirt, glasses in place—she was the formidable officer.
Ananya: "Stop, Henry! Do not fall into this fire!"
Henry froze, turning to her. Kalbhairav's chant halted mid-way. The red glow of the fire combined with Henry's golden gaze to create a terrifying scene.
Henry (in disbelief): "Ananya? You're here? You followed me?"
Ananya: "I came to save you, Henry. This sorcerer will not free you; he wants to trap you again in darkness. Do you really want to live with that hatred again? Have you forgotten the scent of the roses last night?"
Kalbhairav screamed: "Do not listen, Henry! This enchantress wants to steal your power. I will have her on this altar today!"
Henry gripped his knife tightly. One glance at the sorcerer, one at Ananya's calm, deep eyes. His golden eyes trembled with indecision.
Ananya stood in front of him, voice strong, yet her heart was a storm. Seeing him tighten his grip on the knife, she silently pleaded:
Ananya (thinking): "No, Henry… do not destroy yourself. Do not let the sorcerer's fire consume your last humanity. I know that man who loved Laboni still lives in those golden eyes. Please, Henry, look at me!"
Her face remained that of the professional officer, but her eyes grew wet. She feared that if Henry followed the sorcerer's orders, twenty years of vengeance would be meaningless.
Henry stepped close to her. His golden eyes blazed like fire. Ananya felt his breath on her face.
Henry (broken voice): "Why did you come in front of me, Ananya? I wanted to make myself stone so my hands would not tremble to kill you. But when you are here… why do my golden eyes calm? Why do I see the old Laboni in your eyes?"
Kalbhairav roared: "Henry! Time is running out! Finish her, or your immortality will be taken!"
Henry suddenly pressed the knife against Ananya's throat. She did not move a muscle. Through her glasses, she stared directly into Henry's golden eyes.
Ananya: "Kill me, Henry. But remember, once you kill me, you will no longer be immortal—you will become a living corpse, with no golden dreams, only darkness."
Henry's hands trembled. Suddenly, he pulled her close to his chest. The knife fell to the floor. He collapsed onto her shoulder, crying. All the sorcerer's spells and dark magic seemed feeble before her courage.
Henry: "I cannot, Ananya… I cannot. These golden eyes will not let me kill you. I want to get out of this hell."
Kalbhairav, seeing his plans crumble, rose and began chanting a terrifying incantation. The temple walls began to shake.Suddenly, Ananya's body jolted. She lifted her head shakily from the table. The room was silent. The burnt smell of the temple was gone, the sorcerer's sinister laughter had vanished, and Henry's golden-eyed wails were nowhere to be heard.
She realized she was sitting in her own office chair. The laptop screen in front of her had gone black in sleep mode. The AC's gentle cold air circulated around the room. Outside, the harsh midday sun tried to pierce through the window blinds.
Ananya touched her forehead—she was sweating. Her glasses lay on the edge of the table. With trembling hands, she put them back on. She was wearing the same deep blue shirt she had worn that morning.
Ananya (exhaling deeply): "A dream? So it was all… just a dream?"
She understood that the mental stress of the past few days and her constant worry over Henry had trapped her subconscious in a terrifying maze. She had buried herself in office files for hours, and somehow drifted into a deep sleep without realizing it.
She quickly opened her laptop. The screen still displayed the old file from twenty years ago about Henry. That meant she had fallen asleep before even leaving to search for the sorcerer. Last night's black nightdress, the professional moves, and Henry's golden eyes—were they just a mix of her hidden desires and fears?
She touched her throat. No knife marks. She looked at herself in the mirror—her expression still held the fire of vengeance.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
Constable: "Ma'am, I've brought you some coffee. You've been in here quietly for a long time, so I thought…"
Ananya composed herself and said in a serious voice:
Ananya: "Come in. And listen—how is the special team for Henry progressing? I want to conduct a raid at his house today."
Ananya stood up. Even though the dream had frightened her, she knew reality would be far more challenging. She could no longer fall into any trap of compassion. The dream had perhaps given her a warning—weakness toward Henry meant bringing about her own destruction.
In the office corridor, Henry was standing. He wore a crumpled black shirt that added a mysterious severity to his presence. Leaning against the wall, he stared intently at the glass wall of Ananya's office.
Inside, Ananya spoke with someone in a very serious tone. She wore the same deep blue shirt, her heavy glasses in place. The way she moved her hands as she spoke radiated a strange professionalism. From outside, only her shadow was visible; the person she was speaking to could not be seen.
Henry noticed that during the conversation, Ananya occasionally smiled—but it was not a professional smile, rather spontaneous and genuine. Seeing this, a fire ignited in Henry's chest. He rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt to his elbows. His eyes turned slightly reddish, as if he could no longer contain the turmoil inside him.
Ananya did not glance outside even once. She was so absorbed in her conversation that she did not realize Henry was standing there, watching her.
Henry thought to himself: "Who is she talking to so cheerfully? The Ananya who stands like stone in front of me, how can she be so relaxed around someone else?"
He could no longer bear it. With heavy steps, he walked to the front of Ananya's office door. His presence made the corridor feel denser. Without knocking, he twisted the doorknob and prepared to enter.