Chapter 2 : Temple
1015 Words
The moment they crossed into the temple, the torchlight in their hands suddenly blinked and went out.
Harry quickly pulled out a mashaal, lit it, and held it up high. A steady flame rose, pushing the darkness back—but only just.
Inside, the air felt colder. A still kind of cold, like time had stopped here.
As the firelight touched the stone walls, strange markings began to show.
They weren’t normal. They weren’t writing anyone could read.
Symbols—sharp and uneven—were carved deep into the stone. Some were shapes inside shapes. Triangles within triangles. Circles crossed with broken lines. Some looked like hands. Others looked like nothing at all. Just patterns, as if someone had written a language no one knew.
There were no statues.
No signs of gods.
No place for prayer.
Only markings, scratches, and the walls that held them.
One more strange thing.
Even though the mashaal burned strong, none of them cast shadows on the walls.
It wasn’t pitch dark, but it wasn’t right either.
And there was a sound—a soft hum, almost like a whisper, coming from the very stone. You could only hear it if you stayed quiet long enough. It wasn’t coming from outside. It was only inside.
All of them felt the same thing.
Frank : Frank stepped cautiously over the cold stone floor, the sound of each footstep echoing louder than expected. He could feel every his boots, each step oddly sharper, like the place was listening to him. Around him, the air was heavy and cool — yet close to Harry, who held the mashal, there was a faint, comforting warmth brushing his side.
He looked down. And froze. There was no shadow beneath his feet. His brow furrowed. Maybe the mashal was flickering in a strange angle.
But as his eyes scanned to Harry, then to Lena and Peter. None of them had shadows either. He blinked once. Then again. Nothing. Just stone… and the firelight that somehow cast no shape. His body stayed still, but inside, his chest felt tight — not in fear, but in disbelief.
Something about this didn’t make sense. The air felt wrong now. His mind was rushing, but his mouth wouldn’t form the words. He glanced at each of their faces again, wondering if they’d noticed. Finally, he managed to break the silence, his voice low but edged with unease. “Hey… guys,” he said slowly. “Have you looked down at your shadows?”
Inside the cold, stone-walled temple, the fire of Harry’s mashal flickered gently, casting warm light across the walls. Strange symbols — triangles within triangles, lines curved in ways that didn’t follow any language they knew — danced faintly in the shadows.
Harry stood close to one wall, quietly examining a carved painting. The texture was rough, but the markings seemed deliberate, almost like a message or ritual.
Behind him, Frank’s voice broke the quiet.
Hey… guys,” he said slowly, eyes still on the ground.
“Have you looked down at your shadows?”
Harry turned at the sound. The others followed Frank’s gaze — then looked down.
No one spoke for a momennt
Their feet were visible. The stone floor too. But not a single shadow was there. Not even Harry’s, though he held the mashal.
Harry blinked, confused, and looked down again.
“…Maybe because it’s too dark?” he said, uncertainly.
Peter shook his head, his voice sharper now. “If it’s dark, then why don’t you have a shadow? You’re holding the mashal. That should cast some light.”
The group looked at one another, tension quietly growing between them.
“Guys, we should leave,” Peter added, his voice tight.
Harry raised a hand calmly. “Don’t panic, Peter.”
He took a breath, glancing around the stone chamber. “Maybe this is something about the temple itself. That’s why the locals keep it hidden from outsiders. Or maybe there’s some kind of illusion happening — something scientific. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
He paused a moment, thinking. “You’ve heard of the Brihadeeswarar temple in India, right? That ancient granite temple? They say it was built so precisely that its shadow never falls on the ground at noon. Instead, it reflects inward — within itself.”
Frank glanced up. “Right. I’ve read about that. Some solar angle thing, yeah?”
Lena nodded slowly. “Yeah… architecture, angles, maybe mass. It’s rare, but not impossible.”
The group stood in silence for a beat longer. The air still felt heavier than before.
“Guys, don’t you have any sense?” Peter snapped, his voice edged with frustration and fear. “This is strange. — it’s like we’re standing inside our own fear. Why should we risk ourselves by staying here? What if this shadow thing is just the start?”
Harry looked at him calmly. He noticed Peter’s breath quickening, the way his eyes kept darting across the walls, as if expecting something to move. Stepping forward, he placed a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder and spoke with a steady.
“Peter. Calm down.”
He paused, glancing around at the others. “Let’s do one thing — we stay here for the night.”
Leana looked at him, surprised. Frank raised a brow. Peter’s eyes widened.
“Here?” Peter asked, almost whispering. “Are you sure we can spend a night in a place like this? With that weird humming and… whatever else this is?”
Frank stepped forward. “I thought we’d be setting up our tent somewhere in the forest. Why here?” His voice held genuine confusion.
Harry turned to all of them. “Look, it’s already dark. The forest floor is nothing but thick mud. We don’t know how far that goes or where it even ends. And honestly, I don’t want to risk any of us slipping, getting stuck, or worse — getting bitten by something we don’t see coming. It’s safer here.
At least inside, we have stone and shelter.”
- Writer
