Falling Into Oblivion

Chapter 15: The village

As they stumbled through the dense forest, the trees parted to reveal an old village nestled in a misty valley. The sight stopped them both in their tracks. The houses were small, built of mud and thatch, with faded patterns etched into the walls. The streets were uneven, the paths illuminated by flickering lanterns hanging from crooked poles. Everything about the place felt like it belonged to another century.

The villagers, dressed in heavy, traditional clothing, seemed frozen in time. Men wore dhotis and turbans, while the women were draped in elaborate sarees with heavy jewelry that glinted eerily in the lantern light. They stopped whatever they were doing to stare, their expressions unreadable. A few whispered to one another in hushed tones, their words too faint to hear, but their unwavering gazes felt piercing.

Banhi's unease grew with every step. "This place... it gives me the creeps," she murmured under her breath, clutching her arms as if to shield herself.

Before she could say more, an elderly man emerged from one of the larger houses. His appearance was as striking as it was unsettling—he wore a flowing robe adorned with symbols Banhi didn't recognize, and his wrinkled face bore a smile that stretched unnaturally wide. His sharp, piercing eyes scanned them both as he approached. This, Banhi assumed, must be the village chief.

"Who might you be, and how did you come to this place?" he asked, his voice calm yet probing, each word laced with an eerie cadence.

Before Banhi could respond, Danish stepped forward, his usual smugness intact. "We're couples," he drawled slowly, pausing deliberately as a roguish smile played on his lips, daring her to correct him.

"What? No—we're cousins!" Banhi's voice rose in shock, her cheeks flushing with anger as she crossed her arms and shot him a furious glare.

Danish's smirk vanished, replaced by a cold, warning look. He stepped closer to Banhi and hissed under his breath, "I said, we're couples. Any more objections, and you'll regret it, Banhi."

Banhi opened her mouth to argue but faltered under his glare. Her hands clenched into fists, frustration simmering dangerously close to the surface.

The chief, oblivious to their tension, nodded with a smile that somehow felt too wide. "I see... perhaps you two have lost your way," he remarked in an oddly pleasant tone.

Seizing the moment, Danish smoothly interjected, "Yes, we were traveling near the cliffs when a minor mishap forced us off course. That's how we ended up here."

As murmurs arose among the villagers, Banhi felt their scrutinizing stares prickling her skin, as though they were peeling away her outer layers. Instinctively, she moved closer to Danish, her anger warring with her unease. "These people... they're all so strange," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Danish noticed her discomfort but said nothing, turning instead to the chief, who still wore that unsettling smile. "Please, have some food first," the chief offered warmly, gesturing toward one of the larger houses. "Then we'll see how we can help you."

"No, we should leave immediately," Banhi interjected firmly, tugging at Danish's arm. "Danish, let's go."

But Danish barely acknowledged her. Flashing his most charming smile, he replied, "We'll stay for a meal, thank you very much."

"Danish!" Banhi hissed, pulling harder at his arm. "This place feels dangerous to me."

Danish's patience snapped. He turned to her, his voice sharp and biting. "Just keep quiet, Banhi. You always seem to cause a scene."

The chief began walking toward the large house, motioning for them to follow. Danish trailed after him without hesitation, leaving Banhi no choice but to hurry behind. She cast nervous glances back at the villagers, their unblinking stares following her every move. It felt as if the very air was closing in around her.