~whats coming next~

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I was driving the car toward a mansion that I have never seen before I got a call from the same unknown number asking me to be there if I wanted to know the truth and they also threatened me with Ayra

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I was driving the car toward a mansion that I have never seen before I got a call from the same unknown number asking me to be there if I wanted to know the truth and they also threatened me with Ayra.

I entered the large rusted gate leading to the driveway and the beautiful abandoned infrastructure came into view. My heart beat sky rocketed this mansion seems so familiar. I thought in my mind.

I pushed open my door as I stepped out dusting my kurti that I was wearing my heart was beating loud in my throat. I pushed open the large front gates of the mansion stepping into the darkness.

"Koi hai" I called out.

Silence

"You are finally here my love" I sucked in a sharp breath hearing that voice...it belonged to none other than aakash...the same man that I met before my wedding in mall the same man. My past. My trauma.

"W-What are you-" before I could complete my sentence I felt a sharp pain in my neck as my vision started getting blurry before I blacked out.

"W-What are you-" before I could complete my sentence I felt a sharp pain in my neck as my vision started getting blurry before I blacked out

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Aarush’s phone trembled slightly in his hand when he pushed it toward me.

“Yash… you need to see this.”

At first, I thought it was some stupid prank. But Aarush’s face was pale—too pale. A strange uneasiness crawled up my spine as I took the phone from him.

And then I saw it.

Anvi.

Tied to a chair in what looked like a dark, abandoned room. Her wrists were bound tightly with thick ropes, her head slightly lowered as strands of her hair fell over her face.

A single dim yellow bulb hung above her, barely lighting the room and casting long shadows across the cracked walls.

My heart stopped.

“Anvi…” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

My fingers tightened around the phone as my eyes kept scanning the image again and again, hoping—praying—it was fake.

But it wasn’t.

Even through the blurry photo, I could see the fear in her eyes.
Below the picture was a note.

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