"𝘔𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘴 a 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘦."
The sole heir of the Singhaniya's and the embodiment of devastation, Ved Singhaniya, acquired a curse from a previous life. But there is always a cure for...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
V E D
It was the first time in my twenty-six years of life that I put together a date night for someone, the first time I cooked for someone other than myself, and to be honest, I greatly enjoyed it!
The way she kept looking into the star reminded me of what I did two years ago, like seeking into the black hood for a purpose, hope, and life. The same despairing eyes, the same feeling of putting our soul in peril to escape the tremor.
I accelerated down the desolate, empty road, the wind whipping against my face as I raced back to the isolated cottage. It had become my refuge, a place to hide away from prying eyes and unwanted attention, but clearly, it wasn’t as effective as I’d hoped.
During the date, I caught a glimpse of Jay—my friend—and when she mentioned my eyes, I knew my expression had twisted. A crooked, uneasy look must have spread across my face. Inside, I cursed myself for not explaining everything sooner. She must have thought I was glaring at her with disdain or contempt.
I left my bike in the garage and stopped by the cottage backyard as I approached the middle of the woods. My stomach flared up. He caught sight of her. When my foes were after me everywhere, I didn't want anyone to find out about her. It's not that I didn't trust him-I do, after all, just not with her. I would jump into hell before putting her at stake.
I stepped into the hall, after giving each corner a glimpse, I found him standing at the cabinet looking into the photo frames. His eyes were glued onto the big frame placed over the mantle piece, and there I knew, I was fucked up. He didn't turn back, though he would be sure of my presence.
I cleared my throat, breaking into the eerie silence.
As I spoke, my voice laced with a quiet intensity, I moved closer to him. "If you gaze at them with those eyes, the people in the frame will come to life."
He turned toward me, his stare sharp and unyielding, cutting through the space between us. "One of them is alive, isn’t she?" His voice was a low growl, the question charged with dark certainty.
My eyes drifted to the final blood-streaked photograph framed and hanging on the wall. It was part of the strange collection that once belonged to Akira’s family—the very reason the old woman had insisted on staying in this forgotten town. She hadn’t done it out of loyalty or nostalgia. She had stayed so that I would find her,
a trap set long ago, and I had fallen right into it.
"Stay away from that." I pointed at his head, my voice rugged.
"Before that, mind me an explanation." He Finally turned around to me, his hands tucked in pocket.
