Chapter 13: The Mark of the Manuscript
924 Words
The night was restless.
Aarav lay on his back, staring at the crumbling ceiling of the ruined temple, the manuscript still clutched in his hands. It was silent now—no eerie glow, no ominous voices whispering forgotten prophecies. But something had changed.
His skin tingled, the sensation creeping up his arm like unseen tendrils. He turned his palm over, and there it was—a faint, pulsing symbol etched into his flesh.
"Fantastic," he muttered. "Meri zindagi already complicated thi, ab tattoo bhi mil gaya bonus mein. (My life was already complicated, now I’ve got a bonus tattoo.)"
Beside him, Meera stirred. "Tattoo?" she mumbled, still half-asleep.
"Ha, bas ek chhoti si cheez. Ek supernatural marka jo shayad mujhe kisi ancient curse se baandh raha hai. Koi tension ki baat nahi. (Yeah, just a small thing. A supernatural mark that might be binding me to an ancient curse. Nothing to worry about.)"
Meera groaned and sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Aarav, tu ek din bhi normal nahi reh sakta na? (Aarav, can you not be normal for even a day?)"
"Believe me, main khud bhi yahi soch raha hoon. (Believe me, I’m wondering the same.)" He held out his palm toward her. "Dekho. (Look.)"
Meera blinked at the glowing symbol, then sighed. "Haan. Yeh toh bilkul bhi normal nahi hai. (Yeah. This is absolutely not normal.)"
Aarav smirked. "Acha, ab tu agree kar rahi hai?"
She swatted his arm. "Mazaak band kar. Tujhe koi pain ho raha hai?"
Aarav considered the strange sensation. "Pain nahi… bas ek ajeeb si feeling hai. Jaise kuch… andar badal raha hai. (Not pain… just a weird feeling. Like something is changing inside.)"
Meera's brows furrowed, her concern deepening. "Yeh change achha hai ya bura?"
Aarav exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Pata nahi. But knowing my luck? Achha toh definitely nahi hoga. (No idea. But knowing my luck? It’s definitely not going to be good.)"
Meera studied him for a long moment. Then, without warning, she flicked his forehead.
"Ow! Kya problem hai teri? (What’s your problem?)" Aarav yelped.
"Bas check kar rahi thi ki tu abhi bhi human hai ya nahi. (Just checking if you're still human.)"
Aarav rolled his eyes. "Bahut funny. Stand-up karna chahiye tujhe. (Very funny. You should try stand-up.)"
Meera smirked. "Agar main stand-up karungi toh tera hi mazak udaya jaayega. (If I do stand-up, I’ll just make fun of you.)"
Aarav placed a dramatic hand over his heart. "Dil tod diya tune. (You broke my heart.)"
Meera scoffed but didn’t hide the slight curve of her lips.
Before Aarav could tease her further, a sudden gust of wind howled through the temple, sending dust spiraling into the air. The torches flickered violently. A low hum resonated through the stone walls, vibrating beneath their feet.
Meera tensed. "Ab kya? (Now what?)"
Aarav turned toward the entrance, his grip tightening around the manuscript. "Mujhe lagta hai… kuch aa raha hai. (I think… something is coming.)"
The Arrival of the Shadowed One
The temperature dropped. The cavernous ruins seemed to stretch and contract, the air thickening with an unseen presence.
Then, the shadows at the entrance shifted. And from the darkness, a figure emerged.
Tall, draped in a tattered black cloak, its face hidden beneath a hood. But its presence was suffocating—like gravity itself bent around it.
Aarav and Meera exchanged glances.
"Isse dekh ke bas ek hi reaction hai jo perfectly suit karega," Aarav muttered.
"Kya?" Meera whispered.
"Bhag."
Before they could so much as twitch, the figure raised a skeletal hand. A gust of wind slammed into them, sending them skidding across the floor.
Aarav groaned, pushing himself up. "Of course, dramatic entry. Tum log simple ‘hello’ bol ke introduce nahi ho sakte na? (Of course, dramatic entry. You people can’t just say ‘hello’ and introduce yourselves normally, can you?)"
A low chuckle echoed from the figure. "तव परीक्षणं प्रारभते। (Your test begins now.)"
Meera shot Aarav a glare. "Phir Sanskrit! Seriously, kya maine galti se kisi ancient temple ka PHD enroll kar liya hai? (More Sanskrit! Seriously, did I accidentally enroll in some ancient temple’s PhD program?)"
The figure took a step forward, and Aarav felt a pull in his chest—the mark on his hand burning. The manuscript vibrated.
"बहुत हो gaya. Isse ya toh samjha le, ya main bhaag rahi hoon. (Enough of this. Either make it explain itself, or I’m running.)" Meera hissed.
Aarav gritted his teeth and lifted the manuscript. "Okay, professor X. Agar test shuru karna hai toh at least bata toh sahi ki syllabus kya hai? (Okay, Professor X. If you’re starting a test, at least tell me what the syllabus is?)"
The figure raised its head slightly. A pair of glowing red eyes gleamed from beneath the hood.
"तव आत्मा या तव जीवन। एकं त्यज। (Your soul or your life. Sacrifice one.)"
Aarav froze.
"Okay. Yeh test kaafi extreme hai. (Okay. This test is a bit extreme.)"
Meera gripped his arm. "Aarav…"
He glanced at her, then at the manuscript in his hands. He could feel its weight now—not just physical, but something deeper.
Then he made a choice.
He grinned. "Mujhe ek aur option chahiye. (I need another option.)"
The figure’s eyes narrowed. "कोई अन्य विकल्पं नास्ति। (There is no other choice.)"
Aarav cracked his knuckles. "Oh, mere dost, tu clearly mujhe jaanta nahi. (Oh, my friend, you clearly don’t know me.)"
And with that, he did the one thing no one expected.
He lunged.
- Writer
