Behind The Sand

## Chapter 1 — Behind the Sand The sun was slowly sinking, like a lamp about to go out. The wind of western Rajasthan was dry and salty, carrying fine grains of dust. It brushed against the old sandstone walls of the havelis. Jesok was a small village at the edge of the desert. From here, the setting sun painted the endless sand with a soft golden glow. Outside the village stood an ancient haveli. Its wide structure and broken wooden doors made people afraid, yet curious. Everyone talked about it in whispers. Some spoke of hidden treasure, others of people who disappeared long ago. There were also old royal stories linked to the place, but no proof—only tales told by elders sitting on roadside cots and rumors passed among children. Asha had come to the village a few years earlier. She was a quiet woman, small in stature, with curious eyes that also held calmness. She taught in the government school. The village life suited her—simple and peaceful. But the haveli always pulled her attention. People often said, “Asha never goes inside the haveli.” Hearing this only made her more curious. Why did everyone avoid it? Was something truly hidden there? A narrow gravel path ran beside the haveli, surrounded by khejri trees and thorny acacia bushes. In the middle of the path stood an old well, now dry. Villagers believed strange sounds came from it at night. The first time Asha passed by, she noticed something odd on the haveli’s door. Deep scratch-like marks were carved into the wood, as if made from the inside. Those marks disturbed her. They felt like a warning. Nights in Jesok were calm and mysterious. The moonlight spread softly under a sky full of stars, and old stories seemed to float in the air. Ranveer, one of Asha’s friends, lived near the haveli. He had once served in the army and now worked as the village mechanic. His hands were rough, but his voice was slow and thoughtful. “There’s no reason to go inside that haveli,” he told her. “Whatever happened there, the village knows. Some things are better left unknown.” “Why?” Asha asked. Ranveer did not answer. A strange fear flickered in his eyes, as if he was hiding a memory. One evening, while returning from school, Asha saw thin black smoke rising from behind the haveli. It looked recent, as if someone was burning something inside. Her heart began to race. Cooking smoke was common in the village—but from the haveli? Without thinking much, she moved closer. From behind the wall, she spotted a small broken window. Light was coming from inside, and a shadow moved across it. Suddenly, an old woman called out to her. She was wrapped in a faded yellow shawl. “Go back, child,” the woman warned softly. “Too much curiosity brings trouble.” But Asha could not stop herself. The next day, she took Ranveer with her. “I’ll come,” he said, “but if anything feels wrong, we leave immediately.” The haveli’s main door was broken and weak. As they pushed it open, it made a loud creaking sound. Cold air rushed out, carrying the smell of damp wood and age. Asha felt as if unseen eyes were watching them. Inside, the floor had dark scattered stains—mud or dried blood, it was hard to tell. Old photographs hung on the walls. They showed people dressed like royalty, but their faces were blurred by time. Asha picked up one photograph. It showed a young woman with a strange intensity in her eyes. “That’s Sohni,” Ranveer said quietly. “She disappeared one night. Never returned.” Asha felt a chill. This was no simple rumor. They walked deeper into the haveli and found stairs leading down to a cellar. On the steps were old footprints—and some fresh ones. “Fresh?” Asha whispered. Ranveer nodded. At the bottom stood an iron door with an old fort symbol carved on it. The symbol felt familiar to Asha. As Ranveer touched the latch, the door opened suddenly. Cold air rushed out. Inside the cellar, a small table stood in the corner. On it lay yellowed papers filled with old handwriting. Asha read one page: > “The truth was hidden. > If you wish to know it, move forward. > But remember—some secrets never stay buried in sand.” Her hands trembled. Suddenly, a metal sound echoed from the corner. Ranveer rushed forward and found a silver amulet on the ground. It had the same symbol as the door. The ground beneath it was damp, as if someone had been there recently. They decided to leave. But halfway up the stairs, they saw a lantern glowing above. “We’re not alone,” Asha whispered. A voice echoed from above, old and hollow. “Don’t go.” “Who are you?” Asha asked. The reply came softly, like a cry. “The one who saw the truth. And paid for it.” They ran out. Later that night, Asha read the final page again. > “May 1985 > Sonia Devi > Last Entry > I buried him… but the sand refuses to forget.” This was not just history. Someone had acted recently. That night, Asha dreamed of the haveli. The wind laughed. A name echoed—Sonia. The next morning, Ranveer brought new news. “A stranger was seen digging near the haveli last night.” Behind the haveli, they found disturbed soil. Asha dug carefully and uncovered a leather pouch. Inside were sari pieces, a broken bangle, and the same silver amulet. “These belonged to Sonia,” Asha realized. A distant laugh echoed. “You’ve come too far,” a voice said. Then someone whispered her name. “Asha.” From the haveli window, a paper fell near the old well. > “If you want the truth, come to the well. > But every well demands a price.” At the bottom was a symbol: **R.S. 07** From the dark well came a slow breath. “The truth is out,” the voice whispered. “But can you survive it?” The wind stopped. The game had begun.