The Enigma of Chitterpari

Chapter 14 - "A Promise Fulfilled"

It was a new day.. if you can call it one as the sky hung low, weighed down by thick, swollen clouds that blotted out the sun. Each breath Ali took felt heavy, the air dense with moisture and something far more insidious—an unshakable tension that had gripped the village ever since the first disappearance.

Seven days had passed since Hamza's exorcism, and today marked the eighth. Ali's fingers brushed against the damp stone walls as he made his way toward the praying hall, his feet dragging slightly. Ahead, his friends walked in a quiet cluster: Abdullah, Abbas, Daniyal, and Hamza. The amulet Aswad had given Hamza after the ritual still glinted faintly at his neck.

As they reached the courtyard, Ali fell a few steps behind. His eyes drifted over to a group of locals huddled together by the entrance, their voices hushed but urgent.
"Another one gone. Danish this time... it's been three days," one of them muttered, casting a glance over his shoulder as if expecting someone—or something—to be watching.
Ali's heart skipped a beat. "Danish !?"
The third disappearance since he had returned to the village.
"Wh..What the hell?" Ali thought to himself, trying to make sense of it.
He quickened his pace, catching up with his friends as they entered the hall. The atmosphere inside was suffocating. The usual buzz of whispered conversations, the innocent laughter of children was all gone as parents had stopped bringing their little ones.
Ali sank down onto the prayer rug beside his friends, glancing around. People averted their eyes, their faces drawn and pale. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional cough or the sound of nervous feet shifting against the cold stone floor.
Leaning in close, Ali spoke in a low voice, "I just heard... Danish. He's been missing for three days."
Daniyal nodded grimly. "Yeah, I heard too. No one's seen the preacher either since it happened."
Abdullah leaned back, crossing his arms, his face set in a calm but determined expression. "Don't worry. Maybe he will come and address this... I mean he has to."
Hamza, fiddled with the amulet around his neck but said nothing. Abbas nodded slowly.

The moments stretched painfully thin as they sat in the praying hall, their eyes occasionally flicking toward the entrance, waiting for something, anything to break the thick silence. Seconds turned to minutes, and soon minutes blurred into an hour or two. Ali checked his wristwatch, the ticking feeling unnaturally loud in the stillness. 2:13 PM. The confusion on his face deepened as he looked around. The tension in the hall rippled outward, and murmurs began to rise from the people seated around them. A few older men shifted uncomfortably, exchanging uneasy glances. Then, as if on some unspoken signal, one of them stood, grumbling under his breath,
"No use waiting... it's clear there won't be a sermon today... He is not coming!"
Like a slow-moving wave, others followed suit, gathering their things, brushing off their prayer mats, and making for the exit. The once crowded hall, usually buzzing with life, now began to empty. The sound of footsteps echoed against the stone walls as people hurried out, eager to escape the suffocating weight of uncertainty. The drizzle outside grew slightly heavier, tapping softly on the windows.
Ali glanced at his friends. "Guys... Do we wait? Or... should we just leave too?"
Daniyal, sighed. "If he hasn't shown up by now, it means he's not coming. No point in sitting around like fools."
Abdullah crossed his arms, eyes darting between his friends. "What if we're wrong? Maybe he's just late..."
Abbas shook his head, his voice sharper than usual. "We've been waiting for hours, brother."
A heated tension settled over the group, thick as the humidity in the air.
Hamza, who was quiet uptil now, shifted uncomfortably. His hand unconsciously moved to the amulet hanging from his neck. "M-Maybe... something happened to him?" he murmured.
Daniyal frowned, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "What are you saying, Hamza? If something had happened to him, don't you think we'd have heard about it by now? "
Abbas shot him a hard look. "So what, you think we should just leave? What if we miss something important?"
"Like what?" Daniyal retorted.
"Enough," Abdullah interrupted, his voice tense but steady. "There's no point arguing about it here. The hall's practically empty. Let's just leave before the rain gets worse."
They exchanged glances, the tension still simmering beneath the surface, but no one argued. The decision had been made. Together, they stood and made their way to the door, the distant sound of rain growing louder as it patterned against the courtyard and as they stepped outside, the drizzle turned into a light rain, the sky a dull grey blanket above them.
Ali looked back at the empty hall, then turned to his friends with a small shrug. "Why don't you all come over to my place? I'll make tea. We can figure things out there."
Abdullah raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Tea, huh? Sure, but you better make it strong. I like my tea strong."
Daniyal grinned, nudging Abdullah. "Oh, so now you're a tea critic too?"
"Not a critic, just someone with good taste," Abdullah shot back, his smirk widening.
"Come on, let's go before the rain picks up." Ali smiled as the group of friends gathered in Ali's small, dimly lit living room, the air heavy with the scent of tea and the distant rumble of thunder. The room felt close, the outside world forgotten for a moment. Ali handed each of them a cup before sitting down next to Hamza on the worn couch. For a while, they sipped in silence, the warm tea offering little comfort against the tension that had followed them since the praying hall.
The silence lingered, thick and uncomfortable, until Abbas finally spoke.
"You know," he began, his voice tentative, "we went to him when Hamza was having a hard time. Maybe we should check on him. See how he's doing after... everything."
Hamza, who had been staring at his cup as if searching for answers in the tea leaves, nodded slowly. "He's right," he murmured. "He helped me when I was in trouble. It's only fair if we return the favour."
Daniyal leaned back, a frown creasing his brow. "He has always been there for the village. I've never seen him turn away anyone in need." There was a note of regret in his voice.
Abdullah shrugged, less certain. "I'm not sure about this. If something's really wrong, what are we even supposed to do?"
The tension in the room crackled as Daniyal sat up straight, a bit of frustration seeping into his tone. "We can't just sit here..."
"I'm... just saying, maybe we shouldn't go there...." Abdullah retorted, his eyes locking with Daniyal's.
Abbas, who had been quietly observing the conversation, set his cup down with a soft clink. His voice was calm but firm as he interrupted the rising tension. "I'm not sure about this, but I think he needs someone by his side—someone to comfort him, especially since Danish was the only one he had."
There was a brief silence, each of them considering Abbas' words. Finally, Hamza gave a small nod, followed by Daniyal and Ali. Abdullah hesitated for a moment longer but eventually sighed.
"Alright, fine. But if this turns out bad, don't say I didn't warn you."
Ali smiled faintly, pushing himself to his feet. "Let's go guys."