Her Nightmare | 18+

| The First Stride Towards HELL |

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PARINIDHI

My entire body was gripped by an icy chill, each finger tensing around the phone receiver as if holding onto a lifeline. Slowly turning, I found myself face-to-face with Devansh, his eyes ablaze with a familiar mix of venom and rage.

In a voice laced with fury, he demanded, "Who are you talking to?"

My heart pounded in my chest, the air thickening with tension as I struggled to find my voice amidst the swirling chaos. Meanwhile, Ajit's persistent "hello, hello" on the other end of the line only added to the turmoil brewing inside me.

Suddenly, Devansh surged forward, his hand outstretched, a silent demand for the receiver. But fear rooted me to the spot, rendering me unable to comply.

With a thunderous roar, "NOW" he bellowed once more, his voice reverberating through the room like a clap of thunder, commanding attention and obedience. Quivering, I reluctantly extended the receiver towards Devansh, who snatched it from my trembling grasp.

As he pressed the receiver against his ear, his features contorted with fury, the tension in the room reaching a fever pitch. Then, in an explosion of rage, he hurled the receiver to the ground, the shattered pieces scattering like fragments of our fractured marriage.

My inner being trembled at the thought that perhaps Devansh, upon hearing Ajit's voice, had smashed the receiver. What would Devansh do to me now? What punishment awaited, and what new mark of his dominance would be imprinted on my body?

In that moment, he advanced towards me, gripping my chin tightly, and demanded, "Who were you talking to just now?"

His question left me bewildered, my mind reeling. Had Ajit cut the call before Devansh heard his voice? The mere possibility offered a glimmer of relief. Lost in thought, I forgot to respond to Devansh's inquiry. It was then that he tightened his hold on my chin, snapping me out of my reverie.

"I asked you something," he reiterated, his voice commanding my attention.

"Sir....Sir," As my speech faltered, trapped in a web of silence, my mind raced, grappling with the dilemma of how to respond to Devansh. Speaking the truth seemed as daunting as facing the fury that awaited me.

Just as Devansh released my chin, allowing me to retreat, I instinctively began to step back. But his grip tightened on my hand, causing my bangles to shatter into a shower of painful shards. Despite the sharp pieces digging into his own flesh, Devansh remained stoic, his expression unchanged.

With a piercing gaze, he remarked, "Do you honestly think I require an explanation at this moment? Your trembling betrays the identity of the caller."

His words struck like lightning, widening my eyes and quickening my heartbeat. With a swift, powerful grasp, he squeezed my hand, prompting a cry of agony as blood trickled from the wounds. Witnessing my distress, Devansh swiftly retrieved his mobile phone, dialing a number and activating the speakerphone. After a single ring, the caller on the other end responded, eager to be heard.

"Boss," Arnav's voice rang through the call, Devansh's trusted PA.

"Find out who just rang my home phone," he commanded. My mind froze, my body quivered with dread. I glanced at our mingled blood on my hand, then at Devansh, his eyes ablaze with fury. His anger was a harbinger of what was to come, and a chill ran down my spine as I braced for the inevitable.

"Boss, the last call on your home number was from Ajit Kumar," Arnav's voice echoed through the room, sending a chill down my spine.

My breath hitched as the realization sunk in that I couldn't evade Devansh's fury. Summoning every ounce of courage, I met Devansh's piercing gaze, silently pleading for him to see reason. But his eyes blazed with anger, betraying his suspicions. In the next heartbeat, he seized my hand, dragging me towards the first floor with a forceful grip. I struggled in vain against his iron hold, my heart pounding with dread as we approached a familiar door.

As Devansh kicked open the door, my worst fears materialized before me. How could I forget this room? Here, in the very room where I had been branded by my cruel husband, I was once again at the mercy of another tyrant. Devansh placed his phone on the table with a resounding thud before seating me forcefully on a chair. With swift precision, he secured my trembling hands to the chair's arms, leaving me powerless in his grasp.

Devansh leaned in, his presence dominating the room as he seemed ready to uncover every secret of my trembling form. His grip on my bound wrists was firm, and his eyes, intense and magnetic, locked onto mine. Each moment stretched on, filled with tension and fear, as if he could see through every part of me.

"I entered this marriage to get revenge on your brother, to make him suffer every day. And I did. But," Devansh stopped, his gaze fixed on me, "your eyes showed me the darkness inside myself, and I started to hate myself. I thought I couldn't be a loving husband, couldn't feel love. But I promised not to make you suffer anymore. And yet, you betrayed me. Why?"

His words left me more than stunned. My senses were jolted awake. With his face close to mine, he gave me his chilling ultimatum: "No more mercy, no more guilt. You'll live in fear, waiting for death, and even death won't give you peace." His threat lingered as he stepped back, leaving me shaking.

His words cut deep, and I couldn't stop the tears. "Devansh, please," I pleaded.

I tried to steady myself, blinking through the haze, but Devansh had disappeared. Panicking, I looked around and saw him standing by the table, his intense gaze still on me. I looked away, trembling.

"Bring him here," Devansh ordered, his voice cold and commanding. "It's time he faced the consequences for crossing me," he said, ending the call and heading towards the door.

My heart raced as I turned to face Devansh, desperation echoing in my voice. "No, Devansh, please don't hurt him. I beg you, Devansh, please!" Every word dripped with raw emotion, a plea born from the depths of my soul. "Kill me if you want, but please don't hurt him."

In that moment, I found a courage I never knew I had, fueled by a primal instinct to protect. But Devansh's response shattered my fragile hope. With a swift and merciless grip, he seized my neck, wrenching my head back with a chilling declaration.

"Your life is no longer your own," he declared, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "You're mine to toy with, to break as I see fit."

His words struck me like thunder, each syllable laden with the weight of impending doom. "Don't worry," he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "I'll ensure he suffers just as much. Your eyes won't be the only ones shedding tears—it will be your soul. And when I return, you'll pay dearly for betraying me. So, instead of weeping for him, start praying for yourself."

With that ominous proclamation, he left me imprisoned in the room, my cries reverberating against the walls as I grappled with the nightmare that was unfolding before my eyes.

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