Ye tune kya kiya

Trapped and Twisted

Aarohi's pov:-

Aarohi followed Anjali down the winding corridor that led to the basement. Anjali had insisted she help place the gift boxes in the storeroom, and Aarohi, being the ever-polite guest, had agreed, albeit reluctantly.

“Just a little further,” Anjali said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

As they descended the final steps, Aarohi noticed how lavish everything looked—even the basement had marble flooring and sleek wooden panels. “Hari Baigan is richer than I thought,” she mumbled under her breath, her tone half sarcastic, half impressed.

Anjali pointed to a door at the far end. “That one. You can place the box there.”

Aarohi shifted the heavy box in her arms and moved toward the door. As Anjali unlocked it and pushed it open, Aarohi stepped inside, placing the box on the floor with a grunt.

The moment her hands were free, she heard a sharp click behind her. She turned just in time to see the door slam shut.

Her eyes widened. “Anjali?” she called out, rushing to the door.

No response.

Her heart started to pound as panic clawed its way up her throat. She tried the handle—it wouldn’t budge. She banged her fists against the wood. “Anjali! What the hell?! Open the door!” Her voice echoed through the basement, but it was swallowed by the loud music blasting upstairs.

She kept banging, her voice hoarse from shouting. After what felt like forever, she stepped back, breathing heavily. Her phone. She reached into her pocket, only to remember it had died hours ago. Typical.

She slumped against the door, sliding down slowly. A creak near her foot made her jump. Something moved.

She instinctively backed away, eyes scanning the dim room. A faint sliver of moonlight filtered through a small vent, barely illuminating the floor. Then she saw it—a cockroach scuttling by her shoe.

Her scream was immediate, muffled only by her hand clamping over her mouth. “Oh hell no!” she whimpered, backing into a corner. Her eyes darted around, noticing more tiny movements. The place was crawling with insects.

A tear slipped down her cheek. “Why... Why is this happening?”

That’s when it hit her. Suhina.

She thought back to the way Suhina had glared at her earlier, the bitterness practically radiating from her. Aarohi should’ve known something was wrong the moment Anjali approached her with that fake smile.

“This is revenge,” she whispered to herself. “It means she got to know what we did.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking slightly. Minutes passed, maybe an hour—time felt distorted in that suffocating room. The darkness, the creepy crawlies, the betrayal—it all merged into one agonizing blur.

Author’s POV

Back upstairs at the venue, the music was blaring, the laughter flowing like cola from the buffet counters, and no one had the slightest clue that Aarohi was missing.

Except for one person who felt something was wrong.

Yatharth entered the venue in a crisp black shirt tucked into his faded jeans, his hair slightly tousled from the wind. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine—but that wasn’t why heads turned when he walked in.

It was the way he carried himself. Calm. Controlled. Yet his eyes darted around, searching for one person.

Her.