HUKUMAT : WAR FOR THRONES

ECHOES OF FEAR

The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows on the cracked walls. The air was thick with tension as a five-year-old girl sat trembling in the center, her small frame bound by cold, heavy chains that clinked with every shiver. Her wide eyes darted around, taking in the grim faces of the crowd surrounding her, their expressions hidden in the half-light.

A low murmur of voices filled the room, growing louder as the crowd closed in. Panic surged through the girl, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She tugged desperately at the chains, her tiny hands raw and bleeding, but they held fast, unyielding. The voices grew more menacing, and one figure stepped forward, his hand reaching out slowly, ominously.

"No!" she screamed, her voice breaking through the oppressive murmur. Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded, "Please, don't hurt me!"

But the figure's hand continued its slow, deliberate journey, fingers curling as if to grasp her fragile neck. The crowd's murmurs turned to chants, a rhythmic, sinister sound that echoed off the walls. The girl's screams grew louder, her terror palpable, her small body writhing in a futile attempt to escape.

Just as the hand was about to close around her throat, a sudden crash echoed through the room. The door burst open, and a figure stood silhouetted in the doorway, a fierce, determined presence that momentarily froze the crowd. The tension snapped like a taut
string, and the room plunged into chaos.

“Bachao!” she shouted, jolting upright in her bed, her heart racing. She fumbled for the switch and turned on all the lights in the room, bathing it in a harsh, artificial glow.

Ruchi, her roommate, stirred from her sleep, startled by the scream. She quickly got out of bed and rushed to Manali's side, pulling her into a comforting embrace.

“Maan, aaj bhi nightmare aaya,” Ruchi murmured softly, rubbing Manali’s back in a soothing rhythm.

Manali, now 19 years old, was trembling uncontrollably, her face pale and drenched in sweat. This recurring nightmare never allowed her a peaceful night’s rest. Every time it reappeared, it left her unable to sleep for days. The haunting memory of that five-year-old girl, tied in chains and surrounded by ominous figures, plagued her relentlessly, a ghost of her past that refused to fade away.

As Ruchi continued to hold her, Manali took deep, shaky breaths, trying to ground herself in the present. But the fear lingered, an ever-present reminder of a trauma that refused to be forgotten.

“Time kya hua hai?” Manali asked, her voice still trembling.

“4 am,” Ruchi replied, her concern evident.

Manali stood up, her legs feeling weak but determined to shake off the lingering fear. “Mein yoga session kar ke college mein milungi direct,” she said, changing her clothes quickly and grabbing her bag. Without another word, she left the hostel.

The early morning air was crisp and refreshing as she walked through the park, the dew-kissed grass soft beneath her feet. Despite the serene surroundings, her mind was a whirlwind of anxiety and confusion. She replayed the nightmare over and over, the fear still gripping her heart.

“Bar bar yehi sapna kyun aata hai, aahhh,” she muttered, clutching her hair in frustration. The recurring dream was like a relentless shadow, always creeping back into her life, no matter how hard she tried to escape it. The peace of the morning did little to soothe her troubled mind as she struggled to understand why she was haunted by this nightmare again and again.