Crimson Bond of Ravenkot

CHAPTER 10 : LOSE , SEEN ,FAITH AND VULNERABLE

AARAV' POV

it's just dream ,just a dream just a dream "

That was the lie I kept repeating himself.

In truth, my grip on the controller was white-knuckled, thumb frozen above buttons that had stopped responding thirty seconds ago.

Breathing was only thing heard.

The drone hovered dead ahead, rotors a low, patient hum.

Waiting.

“Come back,” I hoped , things got well.

My voice cracked on the second word.Nothing.My chest hollowed out—not full panic yet, just the cold prelude.

The place behind my ribs where reason usually sat was suddenly empty.

The feed flickered.

Trees vanished.

Stone replaced them—black, wet, veined with angles that hurt to look at.

My breath punched out.

“No. That’s not possible.”The image steadied.

Symbols crawled across the rock. Wrong proportions.

Wrong geometry.

My eyes watered just trying to trace them.

Then—eyes.

Too large.

Too awake.

Staring straight through the lens at me.

My heart slammed once, hard enough to bruise the inside of my ribs.The controller shrieked—a single, electronic scream—then went dead in my hands.Silence swallowed everything.

I laughed—high, thin, pathetic—and hated myself for it. “Just a glitch.”

The fog rolled closer, thick as oil.

The ground thrummed.Not from the sky.

From below.My legs moved before my brain caught up.

I ran.

Branches raked my jacket like fingernails.

Roots snagged my boots, trying to trip me.

My lungs burned; fear finally cracked wide open, flooding every vein.

Behind me, something moved.

Heavy.Unhurried.I didn’t look back.I couldn’t.

VANI — POV

It started in my stomach—a sick, dragging pull that spread until my hands shook so badly the phone nearly slipped.The screen showed me.

From behind.

My knees buckled.“No,” I whispered. “No, no, no…”I spun.

Nothing there.My reflection on the screen tilted its head—slow, curious.

My breath snagged. My chest felt caged, ribs squeezing inward like they wanted to crush my lungs.

The phone buzzed once, sharp.

LIVE VIEWERS: 3My heart lurched so violently.

“I didn’t—” My voice splintered. I swallowed fire. “I didn’t go live.”

My reflection smiled at me , had full red eyes .

Too slow.

Too wide.

Pulse thundered in my ears.

My fingers went numb, prickling as panic surged.

“Please,” I begged, the word tearing out wet with tears. “Stop.”

The reflection lifted a hand.

Tapped the glass from the inside.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The phone scalded my palm.

I cried out, dropped it.

It shattered against the rocks—but the audio kept going.

Whispers poured from the broken screen.

My voice.

Sobbing.A long, wet “wuuuuuuu” that stretched into something that wasn’t quite words.

Words I hadn’t said yet.

I staggered back. My spine hit a tree—slick, warm, pulsing faintly against my shirt.

I didn’t look down.I couldn’t.

The fog parted like curtains.Something tall stood there.

Watching.

I clamped a hand over my mouth.

Shoulders shook as fear finally broke into silent, choking sobs.

Far away, something ancient roared—deep enough to rattle my teeth.The forest exhaled.Relaxed.

Like a verdict had been delivered.

YASH — POV

Fear seeped under my skin first, a slow chill that stiffened my fingers, slowed my breathing until every inhale felt deliberate… measured… watched.

The fog pressed so close it beaded on my lashes like unshed tears.

My boots sank into the soil—soft, giving way like damp ash.

Each step left a print that felt too permanent.This place listens.

The thought lodged in my chest, heavy as river stone.

“Vihaan?” I called.The sound died inches from my lips.

"vani "

" Aarav "

Not echoed.

Not swallowed.

Simply… stopped.

My throat closed.

Dry.

Tight.

My fingers found the rudraksha mala that was looped around my wrist.

The beads were scattered now—some lost in the undergrowth when I’d stumbled earlier—but enough remained.

I clutched them like lifelines.

The trees leaned closer.

Not illusion.

Not wind.

Their trunks curved inward, bark glistening as though freshly peeled.

“ॐ नमो भगवते हनुमते नमः

जय हनुमान ज्ञान गुन सागर।

जय कपीस तिहुं लोक उजागर।। "

(Victory to thee, O'Hanuman! Ocean of Wisdom-All

Jai Kapis tihun lok ujagar hail to you O'Kapisa! (fountain-head of power,wisdom

and Shiva-Shakti) You illuminate all the three worlds

(Entire cosmos) with your glory.)

…”The chant emerged barely audible—more breath than voice, devotion shaped into fragile sound.

" रामदूत अतुलित बल धामा।

अंजनि-पुत्र पवनसुत नामा।।"

lips moved before fear could silence them.

" महाबीर बिक्रम बजरंगी।

कुमति निवार सुमति के संगी।। "

The pressure struck without warning.

" कंचन बरन बिराज सुबेसा।

कानन कुंडल कुंचित केसा।। "

A vast weight settled on my chest, as though the mountain above had rested its palm against my sternum.

" हाथ बज्र औ ध्वजा बिराजै।

कांधे मूंज जनेऊ साजै। "

My knees buckled.

" संकर सुवन केसरीनंदन।

तेज प्रताप महा जग बन्दन।। "

I dropped to one knee, breath stuttering in shallow gasps.

विद्यावान गुनी अति चातुर।

राम काज करिबे को आतुर।।

Fear turned hot now. Sharp. Real.This is not my imagination.

प्रभु चरित्र सुनिबे को रसिया।

राम लखन सीता मन बसिया।।

I squeezed my eyes shut.“

सूक्ष्म रूप धरि सियहिं दिखावा।

बिकट रूप धरि लंक जरावा।।…” I whispered, voice trembling on the edge of breaking.

" भीम रूप धरि असुर संहारे।

रामचंद्र के काज संवारे।।"

The fog thickened until I could taste it—wet earth, iron, something older.

" लाय सजीवन लखन जियाये।

श्रीरघुबीर हरषि उर लाये।।"

Something brushed my ankle.

रघुपति कीन्ही बहुत बड़ाई।

असुर निकंदन राम दुलारे।। "

Light. Deliberate.

" अष्ट सिद्धि नौ निधि के दाता।

अस बर दीन जानकी माता।। "

“No—no—” I scrambled backward, hands shaking so violently the remaining beads scattered across the dirt.

I clawed them up, palms smeared black with soil, rudraksha warm against cold skin.A voice rolled through the trees—not sound exactly, but vibration in the marrow.Faith tastes different.My vision blurred—not from tears, from pressure. The world narrowed to pinpricks.

My chant fractured. Breath hitched. Chest burned as though invisible hands squeezed my lungs from inside.

Then—instinct older than fear.

I pressed my forehead to the earth.

Not submission.

Not begging.

Respect.

“जय हनुमान ज्ञान गुण सागर… जय कपिस तिहुं लोक उजागर…”My voice cracked on every syllable. I forced the words out anyway.

The beads in my fist grew hot—biting into palm and fingers like embers trapped in wood.

Pain sharpened focus.The ground trembled.

Deep beneath the forest floor, stone groaned and shifted.

A massive breath was drawn—slow, deliberate, the inhale of something that had been sleeping for centuries.The pressure on my chest vanished.Sudden. Complete.

" सहस बदन तुम्हरो जस गावैं।

अस कहि श्रीपति कंठ लगावैं।। "

I collapsed forward, gasping, sucking air.

सनकादिक ब्रह्मादि मुनीसा।

नारद सारद सहित अहीसा।।

Lungs screamed.

"तुम उपकार सुग्रीवहिं कीन्हा।

राम मिलाय राज पद दीन्हा।। "

Vision swam.

" तुम्हरो मंत्र बिभीषन माना।

लंकेस्वर भए सब जग जाना।। "

The fog retreated—not vanished, but pulled back, cautious now.

Watching from a distance.

re - chanting.

“राम लखन सीता मन बसिया… जय जय जय हनुमान गोसाई…”The words poured out steadier now, though my body shook.

The rudraksha cooled slowly against my skin, no longer burning—just warm.

Steady.

" भूत पिसाच निकट नहिं आवै।

महाबीर जब नाम सुनावै।।"

i stayed bowed, forehead to soil, until the trembling eased.

Whatever had been listening…

राम रसायन तुम्हरे पासा।

सदा रहो रघुपति के दासा।।

तुम्हरे भजन राम को पावै।

जनम-जनम के दुख बिसरावै।।

had heard.Not fled.

Not defeated.Acknowledged.

The forest exhaled—long, slow, almost satisfied.

" जै जै जै हनुमान गोसाईं।

कृपा करहु गुरुदेव की नाईं।। "

I rose carefully, beads clutched tight, mala restrung around trembling fingers.

The fog lingered at the edges of the trees, thinner now. The air tasted cleaner, though the chill remained.

" तुलसीदास सदा हरि चेरा।

कीजै नाथ हृदय मंह डेरा।। "

I took one step forward.

Then another.“vani , Vihaan, Aarav,” I called again—quieter this time, but not afraid.

The sound carried.

Faint echo.

Real.

Something answered—not with voice, but with a distant rustle of leaves, as though the forest itself had nodded.

I kept walking.Chanting under my breath.

Because fear had come.

And faith had met it.And for tonight, at least…

that was enough.

________

VIHAAN'S POV

The ground didn’t just buckle—it heaved, like the mountain had finally grown tired of holding me up.

I crashed forward, palms slamming into wet, warm bark that throbbed under my skin.

The tree exhaled—a slow, wet rasp right against my ear, carrying the stink of copper and rotting petals.

My name slithered out of the fog in my own stolen voice.

“Vi…haan…”

Too soft.

Too pleased.

I scrambled back.

Backpack straps clawed into my shoulders, tore skin.

I ripped free, leaving blood behind.

The fog thickened into cold syrup, sliding over my face, coating my tongue with rust and dead flowers.

Breathing felt like theft.

“Guys—” Voice cracked.

“Aarav. Vani. Yash. Answer me!”

Only the hum.

Deep.

Patient.

Vibrating in my teeth.

Click—Vani’s glittery phone case on stone.

Left.

I spun.

“Vani?”

The shape rose slow and wrong.Tall.

Thin. Still.Matted hair. Torn kurta.

Bare feet sunk in mud.Face—Vani’s cheekbones, her beauty mark.

Eyes—black voids.

Smile—slow, splitting.

Mouth opened.

voice. My campfire line.

“Man… this is pure Bollywood horror. No one returns alive, bro.”

Stomach lurched.Head c****d—too far. Neck popped.

“You came back,” it said in my voice.

“You always come back.”I shook my head. “No—”Fingers rose.

Too long. Nails black.

Palm showed my exact burn scar.

Smile widened.

Teeth too many.

Wet.

“We’ve been waiting,” it said, shifting to Vani’s soft tease.

“Since the rooftop. Since she let go.”

Memory detonated.Kriti’s fingers slipping.City lights smearing.Her quiet: “I can’t keep pretending, Vihaan.”

Silence heavier than wind.I staggered. Chest caving. No tears—just grinding ache.The thing glided closer.“You think you ran from her,” it whispered. “But you only ran toward us.”More shapes bled out.Aarav’s cap. Yash’s shoulders. Vani’s phone glowing.All smiling wrong.Laughter rose in my chest—not mine.

Old.

Wet.

I spun.

Ground vanished.

White swallowed me.

They closed in.

Whispering my name.

Then the other name—the one I’d buried on that rooftop.

Fog invaded.

Room snapped around me.

Walls breathing.

Sandalwood and rain—choking.

And there she was.Kriti.

Not the memory I kept locked away.

This Kriti was laughing—bright, real, the sound I used to chase.

She was curled in someone’s lap.

Not mine.

Sameer.

Sameer from my college friend—the one she’d always said was “just a friend,” the one who’d texted her goodnight when I was crashing on her couch, the one whose name she’d whispered once when she thought I was asleep.

She was on his lap, legs draped over his, head thrown back in laughter that stabbed straight through me.

Sameer’s arms around her waist—casual, possessive.

He grinned up at her, smug, easy.

She leaned down, brushed hair from his forehead, voice soft and warm—the voice she used to use on me.

“You’re so good, Sameer,” she murmured, fingers tracing his jaw. “So good to me.”

She laughed again—light, delighted, like she’d never known pain.

Like I’d never existed.

The illusion locked eyes with me.

Her smile turned slow.

Knowing.

“You see?” she said, voice still hers but edged with something cruel. “This is what happy looks like.

No pretending.

No hollow smiles the morning after. Just… easy.

”Sameer pulled her closer.

She went willingly. Kissed his temple.

Whispered something that made him chuckle low.

I stood frozen.

The hollow in my chest didn’t just ache—it tore wider.

Every flirty line I’d thrown since that night, every joke to cover the bleed, every time I’d told myself she wasn’t worth it—all of it mocked back at me from her laughing face.

She looked at me again—eyes soft, almost pitying.“You were always running, Vihaan,” she said gently.

“Even when you were right there. You never stayed still long enough to be enough.”Sameer’s hand slid up her back.

She sighed happily against his neck.

The room pulsed.

Reflections flickered—Aarav laughing too loud, Yash panicking, Vani’s phone dying.

But Kriti stayed.

Laughing.

Enjoying.

Complimenting him.

Over and over.

“So good.”

“So good.”

“So good.”

Cold smoke curled around my face.

Brushed my cheek.

Found every crack.

Pain ground deeper—rough, relentless, like someone scraping bone.

No tears.

Just exposure.

Peeling.Raw.

I jerked away.

Breath ragged.

Walls shattered.

Memories rained—her hand slipping, wind howling, silence, my fake grin the next day.

“ gave up” the voices chorused.

Something cracked inside—quiet, permanent.

I stumbled back.

Fog rushed in.

Greedy.

But I knew.

It was feeding.

On every regret I’d tried to outrun.