Hidden Behind the Closed Doors

The wind howled through the mountains, carrying with it the whispers of forgotten souls. The village lay nestled in the valley below, its stone buildings huddled together as though seeking warmth from the bitter cold. A bell tolled in the distance, its solemn chime echoing through the silence of the night.

Shravya stood at the edge of the village, her hands trembling as she clutched the fabric of her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Her breath formed small clouds in the freezing air. This was to be her new home-a place she had never seen, a people she had never known. And at the center of it all, a husband who was little more than a stranger.

She had been taught that marriage was a sacred bond. She had accepted her fate with quiet resignation, believing that, at the very least, she would be safe.

But as she stepped forward, her eyes met his.

The Village Leader.

The village's leader stood among the people, his presence towering even among the tallest men. His robes billowed slightly in the wind, but his piercing gaze remained steady. A gaze that stripped her bare, as though he could see something inside her that no one else could. Something unholy.

A shiver ran down her spine, and it had nothing to do with the cold.

A shadow had already begun to fall over her, though she did not yet realize it. Not yet.