CHAPTER 12 : Too Early for Death
835 Words
VIHAAN'S POV
- Alive
The vines loosened - slow, reluctant - and let me collapse face-first into snow.
I didn't move for what felt like minutes.
Just breathed.
Shallow.
Ragged.
Each inhale dragged broken glass through my ribs.
Blood soaked my shirt, freezing in patches against skin.
The forest had gone quiet again.
Not peaceful.
Waiting.
I rolled onto my back - slow, screaming inside - and stared up at the black pines and falling snow.
My phone lay half-buried a foot away.
Screen cracked.
Still glowing weakly.
I dragged myself toward it.
Fingers numb.
Nails torn.
Every inch hurt.
Blood smeared the glass.
Battery: 4%.
One bar flickered - then held.
It buzzed once.
Sharp.
Violent.
Aru.
My heart lurched.
"No," I whispered. "Not now."
I fumbled. Thumb slipped twice.
Almost lost the call. Caught it.
Pressed it to my ear with shaking hands.
"Hello?" My voice sounded thin.
Wrong.
"Bhai. Why are you breathing like that?"
"Like... what?" I tried to laugh. It came out wet.
"Like you're recording a death message. Are you sick?"
"No." The lie tasted metallic.
"Then why do you sound like an uncle after three flights of stairs?"
Pain flared hot.
"Running."
"Running where?"
"...Forest."
She sighed. "Break up and immediately go die in a jungle. Classic Vihaan."
Blood dripped onto snow. Red on white. Spreading.
"I'm not dying."
"Bhai, if you say that again I'll assume you are. Where are your friends?"
I closed my eyes.
Vani.
Aarav.
Yash.
Scattered.
Gone.
"With me," I said.
A pause.
"Still alive?"
"...Yeah."
She inhaled sharply. "You're hurt."
"I'm fine."
"You said that when you fractured your wrist playing cricket. Where does it hurt?"
"Chest."
"Great. Love that for you."
"It's manageable."
"You're literally gasping. Sit down."
"I am."
"Properly. Not hero-sitting-in-the-snow nonsense."
A laugh scraped out of me.
I sank deeper. Cold soaked through everything.
The phone slipped. I caught it. Blood and frost streaked the screen.
"No-no, no," I whispered. "Don't die on me now."
My chest felt wrong.
Not pain exactly — more like my lungs were slowly filling with wet cement.
I tried to inhale.
Nothing came.
My mouth opened but no air moved. My body forgot how breathing worked.
“Ha—” I choked. “Ha—f**k—”
Black dots swam across my vision.
Faces overlapped in my head. No order. No logic.
Mummy.
Aradhaya standing at the door with her school bag, waiting.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. My tongue felt heavy. Useless.
“I… I didn’t mean to—”
Dry leaves crunched somewhere .
The sound yanked my eyes open.
Something stood there.
Too tall. Too thin.
Like smoke that had learned how to stand upright. Its edges kept shifting — never fully solid, never fully gone.
I tried to push myself back.
My body didn’t respond.
“H-hey,” I muttered. “Listen… I’m not in the mood for hallucinations, okay?”
It tilted its head.
Horns? Shadows? The shape refused to settle.
A blade formed in its hand.
Not metal.
Light.
Pale, cold, wrong.
The tip touched my chest.
Ice burned through skin.
I screamed.
“Ah—! No—no—wait—!”
The blade slid in.
Not deep. Just enough.
My entire body convulsed.
The thing smiled.
Not with lips.
With intention.
““चिह्नित मानव।”
(Cihnita mānava — Marked human.)
They crawled directly into my skull.
I shook my head violently.
“Ah - Get out—out of - my head—!”
The blade pushed a little more deep .
My vision fractured. White noise roared in my ears.
"ah - stop "
Something moved.
Fast.
A blur of shadow and impact.
The creature flew backward like it had been hit by a truck.
Wings exploded open in the air.
The light blade shattered against the ground, dissolving into ash.
I smelled blood.
Hot. Metallic.
Golden eyes locked onto the creature.
He stood between us, chest heaving
, shoulders spread like a shield.
The smoke-thing recoiled, form flickering.
His voice dropped — not loud, not soft.
Ancient.
“स्पृश मत्।”
(Spṛśa mat — Do not touch.)
The creature hissed.
Its shape warped, unstable.
I tried to lift my hand toward him.
My fingers twitched.
Nothing else moved.
My vision started tunneling, not black — grey. Like the world was being erased layer by layer.
he glanced down at me.
Just for a second.
His eyes were dark gold.
Too bright.
Furious.
And scared.
He said something again, lower this time.
Not to the creature.
To me.
Maybe .
“मत् निद्रा। न मृत्युः।”
(Mat nidrā. Na mṛtyuḥ — Do not sleep. Not death.)
My ears rang.
The forest blurred.
Sound stretched like it was underwater.
My heartbeat slowed.
Thud…
thud…
th—
The world tilted sideways.
I felt something warm wrap around my waist.
Arms.
Strong.
Real.
The ground slid out of focus.
Snow became light.
Light became nothing.
And then —
Nothing.
..
- Writer
