The elderly man's hand slipped from the tour guide's grasp. He fell to the sand. She reached to grab him again—but before she could, the object lifted him into the air.
"Save me! Help me!" he screamed.
CHAPTER - 1 PART - 2
Tour guide hesitated, then tried to grab him—but Clive shouted:
"Run, as far as you can! Don't stop!"
The tour guide ran past him, leaving the old man behind.
The object held him suspended in the air, then, seeing everyone else escape, lifted him away as well.
The group ran, hearts pounding. The object surged forward, faster and faster, disappearing over the horizon.
Clive glanced back.
"No… not in America!" he muttered.
Eliza followed silently, running without stopping.
Finally, they slowed to a halt, gasping for breath. The tour guide caught up, exhausted.
They all stood, trying to process what had just happened.
Eliza whispered,
"What… what was that?"
"I have no idea," the tour guide admitted.
A man, who had been running from the right side, reached them. Clive steadied himself and said,
"The driver… he got taken."
"No, he's still on the bus," the tour guide corrected.
Clive exhaled sharply.
"Alright… then it's fine."
Eliza suggested,
"Let's go back."
Clive shook his head.
"The UFO—or whatever it was—is gone. The bus is our safest option now. We take it and move somewhere else."
"But… will that be safe?" the tour guide asked.
"There's no other option. We can't walk on foot here," Clive replied firmly.
The tour guide nodded. "Alright, then."
A while later, the survivors were seated inside the bus.
Some were still trembling with fear, others silent with grief, and a few lost in thought, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Eliza sat next to Clive. She pulled out her phone.
"Hey… there's a signal!" she said.
Clive leaned over quickly, peering at the screen.
"Open the news," he urged.
Eliza tapped a few buttons, and the latest updates appeared—two videos on the screen.
She opened the first video.
The footage showed the UFO descending, lifting people into the air, and disappearing as quickly as it had arrived. Seeing it, the group tensed even more.
A young boy muttered nervously,
"How is the network even working?"
Clive smirked faintly, shaking his head.
"Who said a UFO would kill the network?"
The boy fell silent.
Then a news headline appeared:
"In Bhuj, the capital of Kachchh district in India, a UFO appeared from the Arabian Sea and returned to the sea shortly after."
Clive's eyes widened.
"Wait… what?"
Eliza scrolled further. Another article loaded:
"The aliens, who call themselves 'beings,' had landed in Bhuj. Four beings emerged from the UFO. Reports confirm three have died, while one returned to the craft. Similar sightings were reported in Kashmir and Shillong, where UFOs entered from China and returned."
Eliza frowned, confused.
"They just… left?"
Clive leaned back, thoughtful.
"All three events happened within India. Maybe the government already knew and was prepared."
Eliza shook her head slowly.
"If that were true, they would have evacuated their people first. Only a few places are mentioned… maybe even India didn't know what was coming."
Meanwhile… Bhuj, India
The streets were empty. Silent. Lifeless.
The world felt paused, as if everyone had vanished.
A muscular man sat atop the bodies of the fallen, the aftermath of chaos all around him. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter.
He placed the cigarette between his lips and lit it, smoke curling lazily into the air.
He leaned back slightly, calm, collected, almost unnervingly so.
"Damn… those poor guys weren't even fighting," he muttered to himself, his voice low and bitter.
"And yet… they died. Damn it, bastards."
He exhaled, smoke drifting upward, eyes scanning the empty streets like he owned the place.
Some time later, the streets of Bhuj were still eerily empty.
The muscular man wandered into a small snack shop.
He picked up a few items, muttering to himself,
"Hmm… What's this? Oh, a new flavor from this soda brand. Might as well grab it."
Stepping out of the shop, he sat down on a bench and sipped buttermilk from the packet through a straw.
A cat wandered nearby, curious but cautious.
"Hey, you're alone. Don't be afraid… I'm here with you. Ha ha," he said, chuckling softly.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small milk packet, opening it with his teeth, and offered it to the cat.
The cat hopped into his lap and began drinking the milk, content and calm.
He smirked, looking down at his tiny companion.
"Well, I found someone to feed milk… wonder when someone will do the same for me?"
"Meow, meow," the cat replied, as if mocking him.
"Hah… yeah, yeah, meow meow it is. Don't try saying anything else," he said.
"Meow meow," the cat persisted, flicking its tail.
"Meow! Meow meow meow," he replied theatrically, making the cat paw at the packet.
China.
The Great Wall loomed in the darkness, like a shadowed cover stretching across the hills.
A shield, maybe the only thing that could hide him from the aliens—the so-called "beings"—who had claimed so many lives.
Behind that cover, a man sat alone.
"They took everyone… my mother, my wife, my children… my entire family… those bastards," he muttered, voice rough and broken, echoing softly in the empty night.
The darkness pressed in, thick and suffocating, as if the night itself had grown heavier.
It was a night unlike any he had ever seen—one that seemed born from shadows themselves.
What the darkness wanted, why it had come, he didn't know. Perhaps he never would. But he could feel its weight, its cold presence, as if it had taken root inside this very night.
For the first time, he truly understood
fear—not just of what lurked in the world, but of the shadows within it.
The night over Asia had grown impossibly dark.
Silent. Still.
Yes, it was night—but not a night like any I had ever seen before. Heavy. Ominous.
If I had to give it a name, I would call it "The Night of Silence."
But maybe someone far away in Kashmir, India—a man over sixty, seasoned by life and experience—would give it another name.
Maybe he would call it "The Night of Rule."
A night that held power, that commanded fear, that stretched across lands, unseen yet undeniable.
Bhuj,Kachchh,India
St. Zavier School sat quietly in the night, its classrooms empty, silent, swallowed by darkness.
But the darkness outside was relentless. It seeped into every corner of Asia, a blanket so thick that no place was left untouched.
Even here, in these silent halls, the shadows of the night seemed to linger, heavy and alive, as if waiting for something.
The stillness was absolute, yet the air carried a tension—a subtle, creeping reminder that the world was no longer as it had been.
Kashmir, India
In the pitch-black night of Kashmir, a being sat beside a man of over sixty, their figures barely visible in the shadows.
"Sir… we were thinking," the being spoke, voice calm but deliberate, "we could control the minds of Earth's prisoners… use them, and do it alongside the prisoners themselves. Is this possible?"
The elderly man's eyes, cold and calculating, fixed on the being.
"Yes… you can do it," he replied simply.
The night was silent around them, but the weight of their conversation pressed heavily—a conspiracy brewing, the future of countless lives hanging in balance.
Bhuj,kachchh,India
The muscular man casually walked into a house nearby.
The door was unlocked.
No one inside.
He stepped in without hesitation, looking around like he owned the place.
"Well… looks empty," he muttered.
Inside, the house felt untouched—quiet, abandoned, frozen in time.
He noticed a gaming setup in one of the rooms.
A PC.
A chair.
A controller lying there, waiting.
His eyes lit up.
"Ohhh… jackpot."
He dropped into the chair, switched the system on, and started playing like nothing in the world had happened.
Moments later, loud sounds echoed from the room—
"Ah ha! Ah ha! No, not there—no, not there!"
Gunfire.
Explosions.
Game dialogue.
Pure chaos—digital chaos, not real.
He laughed, fully relaxed, completely immersed.
Outside, Bhuj was silent.
The world was falling apart.
Inside this empty house, one man was just enjoying a game, as if the apocalypse had taken a short break.
Inside the bus, everyone sat in silence.
No voices.
No movement.
Just the feeling that no one was left out there.
They didn't care about sightseeing anymore.
They didn't care about plans.
All they wanted now was one thing—
to leave this desert… to get out of here.
The bus felt heavy, crowded with fear rather than people.
Eliza suddenly turned toward Clive.
"Clive…"
He looked at her.
"What is it?"
Her face had gone pale.
"…The seven billion population," she said slowly, almost afraid to finish the sentence,
"They've taken them."
"What?!" Clive reacted instantly.
The word echoed inside the bus.
People around them noticed the panic in his voice. One by one, they gathered closer.
Eliza held up her phone, her hands slightly trembling.
"Seven billion people," she repeated,
"abducted."
The screen told a story no one wanted to believe.
Silence swallowed the bus.
This wasn't a local incident.
This wasn't a country-wide disaster.
It was global.
And for the first time, they all understood—
They weren't just survivors of an attack.
They were left behind.
12:00 A.M. – Shillong, India | Near the Dawki River
Midnight.
Near the Dawki River, a young woman stood alone, frozen in fear.
No… I don't want them to take me, she thought.
They already took my family. They're demons.
The river flowed quietly beside her, crystal clear even under the faint moonlight.
Fish moved beneath the surface, calm and unaware.
Then—
A sharp crack echoed through the night.
Something struck a rock near the riverbank.
The sound alone was enough to shatter the silence.
She flinched and turned around.
The fish scattered instantly, disappearing into the depths.
Behind her, figures emerged from the darkness.
Not one.
Not two.
Many.
Their faces were half-hidden by shadow.
Metal glinted faintly in their hands.
One of them laughed—high, unstable, echoing across the river.
"Hahaha… you shouldn't be here," he said, his voice unsteady.
She took a step back, her breath shaking.
The darkness had completely settled in.
Across the river, Bangladesh looked calm, distant, untouched.
On this side—India felt swallowed by shadow.
The Dawki River continued flowing down from the mountains, as if even the hills had fallen silent, watching.
No wind.
No voices.
Just fear.
And one unanswered question hanging in the air—
In this new world… Who is more dangerous now?
— — — — TO BE CONTINUED — — — —
NOW, THE KILLS WILL BE DONE
IN THE SILENCE OF THE EMPTY
WORLD
CHAPTER - 2: THE EMPTY WORLD
Written & Created by
DARK_Novels_