Everybody close your eyes

The First Name

Sameer refused to accept his death gracefully.

“This is targeted harassment.”

“You were chosen at random,” Tara said.

“That makes it worse.”

“You’re dead,” Leena reminded him. “Dead people don’t argue.”

Sameer stared at her.

“You’ve had power for seven minutes and already become a dictator.”

Leena pointed towards the sofa.

He sighed dramatically and got up from the rug.

“Fine. But when the village collapses without me, remember this moment.”

Still muttering, he dropped onto the sofa.

Aanya shook her head.

Nothing had changed. Sameer had behaved exactly the same way during Mafia in college. If he survived, he talked too much. If he died, he somehow talked more.

“Next round,” Leena said.

Everyone settled again.

Rain still beat against the windows, blurring the garden beyond the glass.

“Village goes to sleep.”

They closed their eyes.

This time Aanya listened more carefully.

Someone shifted on the carpet.

Someone coughed.

Then came the sound of a packet opening.

Leena sighed.

“Seriously?”

“What?” Sameer whispered. “I’m dead, not fasting.”

A few people laughed.

“Quiet.”

The room settled.

“Mafia, wake up.”

Rohan opened his eyes.

Dev opened his a moment later.

Rohan looked around the circle and pointed towards Ishaan.

Dev hesitated.

His gaze moved from Ishaan to Tara, then Naina.

Rohan pointed again.

Dev finally nodded.

Leena acknowledged the choice.

“Mafia, sleep.”

Their eyes closed.

“Detectives, wake up.”

Kabir and Arjun opened their eyes.

Kabir already knew Dev was Mafia from the previous round. This time, he pointed towards Rohan.

Leena nodded.

Kabir’s eyebrows lifted.

He knew both.

Arjun studied Dev before pointing towards him.

Another nod.

For a brief second, the detectives looked at each other.

They knew.

“Detectives, sleep.”

Their eyes closed.

“Doctors, wake up.”

Mira and Naina opened their eyes.

Mira chose Kabir.

Naina chose Aanya.

Leena nodded.

“Doctors, sleep.”

A few moments later—

“Village, wake up.”

Everyone opened their eyes.

Leena looked at Ishaan.

“You’re dead.”

Ishaan blinked.

“Why?”

“That information is generally not provided during murder,” Kabir said.

Tara grinned.

“Maybe Mafia also finds you irritating.”

Ishaan turned towards Sameer.

“Move.”

Sameer patted the seat beside him.

“Welcome to the afterlife.”

“This is somehow your fault.”

“I have that effect on people.”

Ishaan joined him on the sofa.

The accusations started immediately.

Kabir went after Dev.

“You’re Mafia.”

Dev looked at him calmly.

“Based on?”

“You.”

“Strong evidence.”

“You don’t react to anything.”

“That’s his face,” Naina said.

“Exactly. Suspicious face.”

“By that logic you’re Mafia every game,” Tara replied.

“I’m naturally trustworthy.”

Several people laughed.

Dev stayed quiet.

Arjun didn’t.

“I think Kabir may be right.”

Dev turned towards him.

“Why?”

“You watch everyone before you speak.”

“So do you.”

“That’s because I don’t trust you.”

Rohan jumped in.

“Or because you’re Mafia and trying to build a case.”

Arjun smiled faintly.

“That was quick.”

“Maybe I don’t trust you either.”

The votes split.

Some chose Dev.

Others chose Arjun.

Tara voted for Kabir simply because he was “annoying.”

Nobody received enough votes.

The game continued.

During the next night, Rohan and Dev chose Kabir.

Mira unknowingly chose him too.

When everyone opened their eyes, Leena announced:

“No one died.”

Kabir immediately sat straighter.

“Oh, beautiful.”

Rohan frowned.

“Why beautiful?”

“The Doctor saved someone.”

“We know how the game works.”

Kabir grinned.

“Somebody loves me.”

“Statistically unlikely,” Tara said.

Mira kept her expression neutral.

The discussion grew louder after that.

People accused each other based on almost nothing.

Tone of voice.

Facial expressions.

Who laughed too quickly.

Who stayed too quiet.

It was ridiculous.

And familiar.

Aanya realised she had missed this.

For years, their friendship had existed mostly through birthday wishes and half-dead group chats. Tonight, for the first time in a long while, she could almost believe nothing had changed.

Eventually, Kabir convinced enough people to vote for Dev.

Dev opened his chit.

MAFIA.

The room erupted.

Kabir stood.

“Thank you!”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Dev said.

“I told you.”

“You accuse everyone.”

“Not this time.”

Dev moved towards the sofa.

As he passed Rohan, their eyes met for less than a second.

Aanya didn’t notice.

Leena did.

One Mafia remained.

Rohan became harder to catch.

He accused confidently, laughed when accused and redirected suspicion whenever Arjun pushed too close.

Naina died in a later round.

Kabir was eventually voted out after Rohan convinced enough people that his confidence had become suspicious.

Kabir stared at everyone.

“I literally found a Mafia.”

“And now you’re dead,” Tara said.

“This village deserves extinction.”

He joined the others on the sofa.

Arjun lasted another round.

By then, he was clearly focused on Rohan.

“You’ve changed your suspect three times,” Arjun said.

“That’s called thinking.”

“That’s called redirecting.”

“You’re weirdly obsessed with me.”

“Maybe because you’re Mafia.”

Rohan smiled.

“Or maybe you are.”

Aanya looked between them.

Arjun had been unusually quiet all night.

Not passive.

Watchful.

“You have been suspicious,” she said.

He turned towards her.

“Me?”

“You barely say anything.”

“I never say much.”

“You used to.”

The words escaped before she could stop them.

Something shifted in Arjun’s face.

“Used to when?”

Aanya looked away.

“Nothing. Forget it.”

He held her gaze for another moment.

Then Rohan broke the silence.

“So, Arjun?”

The group voted.

Arjun was eliminated.

He opened his chit.

DETECTIVE.

Aanya groaned.

“Oh, brilliant.”

Arjun stood.

“You’re all terrible at this.”

Kabir moved aside on the sofa.

“Welcome.”

Two rounds later, Mira finally pushed the vote towards Rohan.

Aanya agreed.

Rohan looked around as the votes came in.

“Traitors.”

He opened his chit.

MAFIA.

Everyone shouted at once.

Sameer jumped up.

“I knew it!”

Tara stared at him.

“You accused half the room.”

“That is called investigative range.”

Leena laughed.

“Game over. Good side wins.”

The circle dissolved almost immediately.

Phones came out.

Drinks were refilled.

The folded chits were abandoned on the table.

At midnight they cut Aanya’s cake.

Sameer made them sing twice because the first time he had accidentally filmed himself instead of her.

By one, Tara and Kabir were arguing about something nobody else cared about.

Rohan kept insisting he would have won if Mira hadn’t “randomly betrayed” him.

Mira reminded him that betraying Mafia was the entire point.

Around two-thirty, people started leaving.

The rain had stopped.

Dev left first.

Then Naina.

Tara booked a cab.

Kabir and Rohan left together, still arguing over whether Kabir had cheated.

Arjun stood near the front door with his keys in hand.

Aanya walked him outside.

The garden smelled of wet earth.

“Thanks for coming,” she said.

“You invited me.”

“That doesn’t mean you had to.”

Arjun smiled slightly.

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

“I wasn’t sure.”

He looked back towards the house.

Through the window, Sameer was forcing everyone into another photograph.

“It was nice.”

Aanya smiled.

“It was.”

Then Arjun added, “Strange, though.”

She knew what he meant.

Neither explained it.

“Goodnight, Aanya.”

“Goodnight.”

He left.

By three, only Sameer, Mira and Leena remained.

Sameer had planned to drive home, but everyone agreed that was a terrible idea. He eventually surrendered and took a spare room.

Mira’s cab arrived soon after.

Aanya returned to the living room.

The remains of the game still covered the coffee table.

Empty glasses.

Folded chits.

An overturned bowl.

She picked up one paper.

MAFIA.

“Burn it,” Sameer said behind her.

She turned.

He was holding a packet of chips.

“I thought you went to bed.”

“I got hungry.”

“You’ve been eating all night.”

“Grief.”

“You died in a game.”

“Still grief.”

Aanya threw the chit at him.

He caught it and dropped it back onto the table.

Then he picked up his phone.

Pressed the screen.

Nothing.

“Battery’s dead.”

“You filmed half the night.”

“Not enough to kill it.”

“Apparently enough.”

He tried again.

Still nothing.

“Weird.”

“What?”

“I charged it before coming.”

Aanya yawned.

“Your phone is ancient.”

“It’s two years old.”

“Ancient.”

Sameer shoved it into his pocket.

“Goodnight, murderer.”

“You were a villager.”

“Exactly. Innocent victim.”

He disappeared upstairs.

Aanya switched off the lights.

She did not notice the tiny red light near the security camera above the doorway.

It blinked once.

Then disappeared.

Sameer left the farmhouse shortly after nine the next morning.

By ten, the group chat was active again.

His message came first.

Good morning to everyone except the two people who murdered me.

Kabir replied with a skull emoji.

Tara wrote:

You deserved it.

Sameer responded:

Victim blaming. Reported.

Aanya smiled.

The rest of the day passed normally.

Work.

Calls.

Traffic.

Deadlines.

At 6:42 p.m., Sameer sent another message.

A photograph of his motorcycle outside a roadside tea stall.

Breakfast.

Mira replied:

It’s almost 7.

Sameer:

Time is a social construct.

Aanya reacted with a laughing emoji.

It was the last thing Sameer ever saw from her.

At 7:21 p.m., he entered the flyover near the eastern bypass.

Traffic was light.

The road was still damp from the previous night’s rain.

According to the delivery rider behind him, Sameer was not speeding.

No car cut him off.

Nothing crossed the road.

The motorcycle simply moved strangely.

A slight wobble.

Then a sharp correction.

Then another.

The rider later said it looked as though Sameer was fighting the bike.

Three seconds later, it struck the divider.

Sameer was thrown onto the road.

At 8:07 p.m., Aanya answered a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Is this Aanya Mehra?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know a Mr Sameer Jain?”

Her fingers tightened around the phone.

“Yes. Why?”

A pause.

“There’s been an accident.”

Aanya sat down.

Across the city, other phones began ringing.

Nobody thought about the farmhouse.

Nobody thought about Mafia.

Not that night.

Sameer had died in a road accident.

Terrible.

Sudden.

Senseless.

But accidents happened.

Only Leena, sitting alone in her apartment after midnight, opened a photograph from the birthday.

Her eyes moved across the faces.

Then stopped on Sameer.

Less than twenty-four hours earlier, she had looked at him and said two words.

You’re dead.

It had made everyone laugh.

Now the memory made something tighten in her chest.

Leena locked her phone.

On the table beside her was one of the folded chits from the game.

She slowly opened it.

VILLAGER.

For several seconds, she stared at the word.

Then she looked towards the dark window.

For the first time since hearing about Sameer’s accident, Leena looked afraid.