HIS TO DESTROY 18+ (HIS SERIES )

1. The Satan

In Mumbai city,

The city that never slept hummed with a low, constant thrum. Neon signs bled into the inky sky, a kaleidoscope of light blurring the edges of reality. In this concrete jungle, midnight was just another shift change, a time for baristas to clock out and late-night delivery drivers to begin their rounds. No one believed in devils, not in this metropolis where logic reigned supreme.

But what if there is really a satan comes in midnight??

Far away from people and large buildings there is an old mansion. It stood like a forgotten monument, its once-proud windows now blind and vacant, their panes shattered and overgrown with creepers. This was the 'Haveli of Whispers,' as the locals called it, a name whispered with hushed tones and a tremor in the voice. The air, even in the blazing Mumbai sun, felt heavy and oppressive, pregnant with a silence that screamed of secrets.

Everyone knew the rumors. Tales of screams that sliced through the night, chilling whispers of torture, and the chilling legend of 'The Satan.'

As the clock struck midnight, an eerie silence enveloped the dilapidated old building. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, a man clad in a blood-stained black hoodie. His hands were crimson, as if he had just committed a heinous crime.

the man made his way to a nearby car. As he slipped behind the wheel, the sound of screaming voices filled the air. But the man remained unfazed, his eyes cold and distant.

The car engine roared to life, and the man sped away into the darkness. The screams gradually faded into the distance, leaving only the cold, stark silence behind.

Inside the old building, a gruesome scene unfolded. The walls were splattered with blood, and the air was thick with the stench of death. Several bodies lay motionless on the ground, their lives extinguished in a brutal and senseless manner.

.................................................

An hour and a half later, he pulled up to a sprawling palace, its silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight. The grandeur of the palace, with its ornate towers and manicured gardens, was breathtaking, yet the man felt no awe, only an unsettling anticipation.

He stepped out of the car, his boots crunching on the gravel driveway. His eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the palace, lingering on the towering gates and the silent, watchful guards. A predatory smile, twisted and chilling, played on his lips.

"Number six", he whispered, his voice low and gravelly, "Now it's time for the next target."

In the depths of a magnificent palace, amidst opulent grandeur and silent hallways, a lone figure stirred on a plush sofa. A young girl, Nitya, awoke with a start, as she heard a familiar sound echoing through the emptiness.

"Vai, ap aa gye," she whispered, her voice trembling with excitement.

(Brother, you are here)

Vedansh, emerged from the gate. His eyes widened in surprise, then softened with affection as he spotted his beloved sister.

"Nitu, how many times I have to tell you that you don't have to wait for me every day?" he asked, his voice gentle yet firm. "Why are you so stubborn?"

Nitya's face fell. "But vai, I don't want to eat alone. And you know mom and dad..." she trailed off, her lips trembling.

"Ok ok, don't say further anymore," Vedansh interrupted, not wanting to delve into their painful past. "I understand. So now let's dig into the food."

Nitya's eyes sparkled with gratitude. Together, they made their way to the grand dining hall, where Nitya had prepared a sumptuous meal for them. As they ate and chatted, a flicker of normalcy returned to the gloomy palace.

......................................

Vedansh's heart hammered against his ribs, each beat echoing the panicked thrum of the dream. He blinked away the lingering tears, the cold sweat clinging to his skin. The same dream. Always the same. The woman trapped in the darkness, her desperate pleas for release, the chilling emergence of the men from the shadows, the sickening sounds that followed. The knowledge that he was powerless to help, trapped in the nightmare himself, fueled the icy dread that clenched his gut.

He stumbled out of bed, the room spinning slightly as his breaths came in ragged gasps. He needed to move, to clear the images that still danced before his eyes. The gym. That was his solace, his refuge from the suffocating grip of his waking nightmares.

..................

So I have started to edit the chapters.

I know you will be angry at me. But I want the story to become better, so that you guys can enjoy. 

Thank you. 

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