Shadows Beneath the Waves

Mystery in the waves

Arjun's life in Mumbai was evolving rapidly. After the initial excitement of meeting Meera, their walks along Worli Sea Face became a staple in his routine. They grew closer, sharing intimate stories about their pasts. But there was something about Meera that Arjun couldn't quite put his finger on.

As weeks went by, he started noticing strange things about her. Small, almost imperceptible details—like how she'd vanish for days with no explanation, returning as if nothing had happened. Or how, whenever he asked about her family, she would deflect the question with a laugh, changing the subject effortlessly.

One evening, while walking by the sea, Meera pointed out a secluded bench. "Let's sit here. I have something to show you," she said.

Curious, Arjun followed her. They sat, and she pulled out a small, weathered journal from her bag. "I've never shown this to anyone before," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks.

Arjun flipped open the journal. It was filled with notes—random sketches, cryptic lines, and names. Lots of names. All crossed out in black ink.

"Who are these people?" Arjun asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

"They were people I've met, people who came into my life and... left. Or rather, I made sure they left." Her eyes met his, and for the first time since they'd met, Arjun saw something unsettling in her gaze.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his heartbeat quickening.

Meera leaned in closer, her voice low and almost hypnotic. "This city, it consumes people. And sometimes, you have to make sure it doesn't consume you first. Every name in that journal represents someone who tried to take something from me. My time, my love, my trust. I had to make sure they were dealt with."

Arjun felt a chill run down his spine. He tried to rationalize what she was saying, hoping it was some kind of metaphor, but the look in her eyes told him otherwise.

"Meera, this isn't funny," he said, pushing the journal away. "What are you trying to say?"

She smiled, a cold, unnerving smile. "I don't expect you to understand right now. But you will. The city... it demands sacrifice. People disappear all the time, Arjun. And no one ever notices. Not in a city this big."

Arjun stood up abruptly, his mind racing. "This is insane. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I'm done."

He turned to leave, but her hand caught his wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. "You're not leaving," she said, her voice calm but with an edge that sent a jolt of fear through him.

Arjun yanked his hand away and walked quickly down the promenade, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and fear. He could feel her eyes on his back, watching him as he disappeared into the crowd.

For days after that encounter, Meera was silent. No calls, no texts. Arjun tried to put the entire evening out of his mind, convincing himself that she was just playing some twisted game. But deep down, something gnawed at him—an instinctive sense of danger.

One night, as he lay in bed, there was a knock on his door. He glanced at the clock—2 AM. His heart thudded in his chest. Hesitantly, he got up and opened the door a crack.

Meera stood there, drenched from the rain, her hair clinging to her face. Her eyes were wide, almost desperate. "Arjun, let me in. Please," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Against his better judgment, he opened the door, letting her in. She looked different, like a shadow of the person he had met weeks ago.

"They're after me," she said, pacing nervously. "I told you, Arjun. The city takes people. And now... now it's my turn."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, trying to stay calm. "Who's after you?"

"The city. It demands sacrifices. I thought I could control it, but I can't. It's bigger than me... bigger than us. And it's hungry."

Before Arjun could respond, the lights in his apartment flickered. The air grew heavy, almost suffocating. Meera's eyes darted around the room, panic etched on her face.

"They're here," she whispered, backing away from the door. "Arjun, you have to help me. You're the only one left."

But something in her voice, in the way she said those words, made Arjun hesitate. He remembered the journal, the crossed-out names, the cold, calculating way she had spoken about them.

"Help you? Or become your next sacrifice?" he asked, his voice barely concealing the fear creeping up his spine.

Meera's expression shifted, the desperation fading, replaced by something darker. She stepped closer, her voice soft but menacing. "We all have to make choices in this city, Arjun. The question is—are you willing to sacrifice someone else to save yourself?"

The room seemed to close in around him, the walls pressing down as the lights flickered again. Arjun's mind raced, trying to understand what was happening, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized: there was no escaping this.

Mumbai had taken him in, just like it had taken so many others. And now, it was demanding its due.