The Crimson Devotion

Episode: - 5

The early morning air in Chandipur was thick with moisture, the kind that clung to the skin and made every breath feel heavy. Anurita stood outside her guesthouse, her notebook in hand, flipping through the sketches and notes she had made over the past few days. The carvings on the banyan tree and the shrine haunted her thoughts, their meanings tantalizingly out of reach.

Suboy arrived promptly, looking more alert than usual. His rifle was slung over his shoulder, and a canvas bag hung at his side. "Ready, Miss Mukherjee?" he asked, his tone brisk.

Anurita nodded, adjusting the strap of her satchel. Anindya appeared moments later, looking uncharacteristically somber. He was carrying a small brass oil lamp, the kind used in temples, and a bundle of folded cloth.

"What’s that for?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Protection," he replied cryptically. "We’ll need it where we’re going."

The trio then set off into the forest again, this time heading further west, following the drumming sounds that had echoed faintly the night before. The villagers had whispered about this part of the forest—the Whispering Trees, they called it—where voices seemed to come from nowhere, warning intruders to stay away.

The path was narrow, overgrown with wild ferns and tangled roots that made every step precarious. The deeper they went, the quieter it became, until even the chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves seemed to fade.

"Ever notice how silence can be louder than noise?" Anindya remarked, breaking the uneasy quiet.

Anurita shot him a sharp look. "Perhaps focus on where you’re stepping instead of philosophizing."

He smirked but didn’t respond.

They reached a clearing where a massive banyan tree stood, its roots sprawling like veins across the ground. The air here was colder, almost unnaturally so, and a faint smell of ash lingered. Suboy pointed to a circle of stones around the tree, each marked with the same Tantric symbols they had seen earlier.

"This is a ritual site," Anindya said, his voice low. "The layout is designed to trap energy—both spiritual and human."

Anurita knelt beside one of the stones, her fingers tracing the carvings. "What kind of energy?"

"The kind that feeds on fear and suffering," Anindya replied grimly.

Suboy scanned the area, his rifle at the ready. "We’re not alone here," he muttered.

Anurita froze, her hand instinctively going to the dagger she had tucked into her sash. "What do you mean?"

"Footprints," Suboy said, pointing to a trail leading deeper into the forest. They were fresh, and the soft earth revealed multiple sets of bare feet.

"Could be villagers," Anindya suggested, though his tone lacked conviction.

"Or cultists," Anurita said, standing up. "We need to follow them."

The trail led them to another clearing, this one dominated by a dilapidated hut that seemed ready to collapse under its own weight. The smell of burning herbs wafted through the air, and faint chanting could be heard from inside.

Anurita signaled for silence, and the three of them crept closer, using the underbrush for cover. Peering through a gap in the hut’s wall, they saw a group of people—men and women—sitting cross-legged around a small fire. Their faces were painted with ash, and their eyes were closed as they chanted in unison.

"They’re invoking something," Anindya whispered.

"Can you tell what?" Anurita asked.

He shook his head. "Not yet."