The small house is quiet, too quiet for a night like this. The girl stands near the narrow window, holding her two year old son close to her chest. Her arms ache a little, but she does not move him away

The child’s head rests on her shoulder, his tiny fingers clutching the edge of her dupatta. Outside, the darkness is thick, broken only by a weak yellow bulb hanging near the gate

Midnight has already passed, and still there is no sign of her husband. Her eyes stay fixed on the empty path that leads from the road to their house, hoping, praying, fearing all at the same time

She is only nineteen, yet her face carries a worry much older than her age. Her brows stay pulled together, her lips pressed tight. Every few seconds, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, trying to soothe both herself and the child

The clock on the wall ticks loudly, each sound hitting her heart like a small hammer. She tells herself again and again that he will come, that maybe he is just late, that everything will be fine. Still, the fear does not leave her chest

The little boy moves slightly in her arms and looks up at her face. His big eyes study her carefully, as if trying to understand the tension written there. He does not know what midnight means, or why his father is not home

He only knows that his mother is tight, her body stiff, her heartbeat fast. He feels it through her skin, through the way she holds him closer than usual. He makes a small sound, not quite a cry, just a soft noise, and she gently rocks him

“Shhh”

She whispers, her voice shaky but soft. She presses a light kiss to his hair and turns her face back to the window. Their house stands a little far from the main road

The road itself is not visible, hidden behind trees and a slight turn. Usually, she can hear vehicles long before they reach the house. Tonight, the silence stretches painfully

Her thoughts run wild. She remembers how he promised he would be back early. She remembers the way he smiled before leaving. She remembers how she trusted that smile

Minutes pass like hours. Her legs feel weak, but she does not sit. She is afraid that if she sits, something worse will happen. The night air feels cold against the glass, yet her palms are warm and sweaty

She adjusts her grip on her son, tucking him more securely against her body. Then, suddenly, a sound cuts through the silence....It is the distant hum of a car engine

Her head lifts instantly. Her heart jumps, hope rushing through her like a sudden wave. She leans closer to the window, her eyes searching the darkness

The sound grows louder, clearer. Yes, it is coming closer, turning into the path that leads to their home. A smile spreads across her face without her even trying. Relief floods her chest so strongly that her eyes sting

She exhales a breath she did not know she was holding. Her shoulders drop slightly as if a heavy weight has been lifted.

“Vo aa gae "

(He is here)

She whispers, more to herself than to the child. The car slows down near the house. Its headlights wash over the front wall, throwing long shadows inside the room

She watches as the engine turns off. The driver’s door opens. Her smile grows wider when she sees her husband step out. But the smile freezes on her lips almost immediately

Two more men climb out of the car behind him. Her brows knit together again, confusion replacing relief. She squints, trying to see them clearly in the dim light

She has never seen these men before. They stand close to her husband, laughing loudly, their movements unsteady. One of them almost stumbles, catching himself on the car door. The other throws an arm around her husband’s shoulder

A bad feeling settles deep in her stomach. She watches carefully as they start walking toward the house. The way they walk is not normal. Their steps are uneven, their bodies swaying

The laughter sounds wrong, too loud, too careless for the quiet night. As they come closer to the light, she sees their faces clearly....Her heart drops. All three of them are badly drunk

Her husband’s eyes look heavy, unfocused. His smile is loose, careless. The smell of alcohol seems to reach her even before he opens the door. The other two men look the same, their faces flushed, their eyes dull

One of them says something that makes the other laugh again...Fear grips her chest tightly. The little boy senses the sudden change in her body. He stiffens and looks up at her again, his tiny hand gripping her clothes harder

He does not cry yet, but his lips tremble. His eyes move from her face to the door, as if he knows something is wrong. She takes a step back from the window, her mind racing

Why are these men here? Why is her husband like this? He rarely drinks, and never like this. Questions spin in her head, crashing into each other, leaving her dizzy....the door opens with a loud sound

The three men enter the house, their presence filling the small space instantly. The air feels heavier, tighter. The light bulb inside flickers slightly, casting strange shadows on the walls. Her husband steps in first, his movements slow and careless

The other two follow, looking around the house with curious, wandering eyes. She stands frozen for a moment, her back straight, her arms locked around her child. Her husband’s eyes land on her, and a wide grin spreads across his face

"Vo rahi tum"

(There you are)

He says, his words slightly slurred. Relief and fear mix painfully inside her. She forces her feet to move and slowly walks toward him. Her steps are careful, unsure. The child presses his face into her shoulder, as if trying to hide

Before she can say anything, her husband reaches out and takes the little boy from her arms. The sudden movement shocks her.

“Aree..."

She starts, but it is too late. The child feels the unfamiliar roughness in his father’s grip, the strange smell, the lack of the gentle warmth he knows. His face scrunches up instantly, and he starts crying loudly

His small hands push against his father’s chest, his legs kicking weakly. The cry is sharp, full of fear and discomfort.

“Shhh...shhh”

The husband laughs, trying to bounce him, but his movements are clumsy. The baby cries harder, his voice filling the house. Her heart twists painfully at the sound

“Vo dar Raha hai usse mujhe dedo"

(He is getting scared...give him to me)

One of the other men chuckles, watching the scene like it is something amusing. The other man looks at her with an expression that makes her skin crawl, his eyes moving over her slowly in a way that makes her uncomfortable

She reaches out instinctively, her hands stretching toward her crying child....That is when it happens. Suddenly, a rough hand grabs her wrist. She gasps sharply, a scream tearing out of her throat before she can stop it

The sound is loud, raw, full of pure shock and fear. Her body jerks back, but the grip is tight. Her heart pounds so hard she feels dizzy

She looks up and sees one of the men holding her hand, his fingers digging into her skin. His face is too close, his breath hot and smelling strongly of alcohol. Her mind goes blank for a second, panic flooding her senses

"Ye aap kya kar rahe hai"

(What are you doing)

She cries, her voice breaking. The baby’s cries grow louder, more desperate, reacting to his mother’s fear. The sound seems to echo off the walls, filling every corner of the house

Her husband turns his head slowly, confusion crossing his face as he tries to understand what is happening. For a moment, he just stands there, swaying slightly, the crying child still in his arms.

“Chhodo mujhe"

(Leave me)

She says again, louder now, tears streaming down her face. Her body shakes uncontrollably. Fear wraps around her like a tight rope, squeezing her breath

She thinks of her son, of how small and helpless he is, of how he needs her. She pulls against the grip again, her strength fueled by pure instinct. The man laughs weakly at first, but something in her scream, something in the baby’s cries, cuts through the drunken haze

The sound is too real, too full of terror. The laughter fades. Her husband finally blinks properly, his eyes focusing. He looks at the man holding her wrist, then at her tear streaked face, then at the screaming child in his arms. Slowly, the pieces fall into place

"Mai tumhe haar gaya... Juwe me"

(I lost you... In gambling)

That was his words which he said with a blank expression not paying attention to his wife's who's whole world got trembled badly after hearing his words as she stare at her son who is crying than at the two man's who are looking at her with the look which clearly express what they want

The scream cuts through the night like a knife. It is loud, broken, full of pain that does not end. A man in his fifties sits on the ground in the middle of the wedding lawn, his body tied tightly with heavy chains

Fire surrounds him, climbing slowly, cruelly, while his voice echoes again and again. The smell of smoke mixes with flowers, turning the celebration into a nightmare

His face twists in pain as he burns alive, unable to move, unable to escape. A few steps away, his son screams just as loudly. The groom, who was supposed to marry the love of his life today, struggles wildly

Thick chains hold him to a metal pole, cutting into his wrists. A gun presses firmly against his head, held by a man who shows no emotion. Tears stream down the groom’s face as he screams for his father, begging to be let go

His body shakes with helplessness, his voice breaking as he watches the man who raised him die in front of his eyes. The bride stands frozen near the mandap

Her red lehenga feels heavy on her body, but she does not move. Her hands hang by her sides, her bangles silent. Her face is blank, empty, as if her soul has stepped out of her body

Her eyes take in everything but react to nothing. She watches the fire, the chains, the screams, as if it is all happening in a dream she cannot wake up from. Her gaze slowly shifts to the man sitting on a chair in front of everyone

He leans back comfortably, one leg crossed over the other. He takes a slow puff of his cigar, the smoke curling around his face. A smirk sits on his lips, cold and satisfied

The wedding lies destroyed around him, chairs broken, flowers crushed, guests kneeling on the ground in fear. He looks like a king sitting on a throne made of chaos

His eyes move back to the burning man. The man he hates more than anyone else in this world.... His own father. The fire reflects in his dark eyes, but there is no regret there, no sadness

Only deep, burning hatred. This is the man who broke his mother piece by piece. This is the man whose cruelty pushed her to end her own life. Every scream feels like justice to him

The burning man cries out again, his voice weaker now. The chains glow with heat. His body slumps forward slightly, fighting to stay alive. The groom screams harder, calling him... “Papa” again and again, his throat raw

He pulls against the chains until his skin turns red, but the gun never leaves his head. One wrong move and he knows he will die too

The man with the cigar finally stands up. Everyone flinches at the sound of the chair scraping against the ground. Slowly, calmly, he steps forward

People kneel lower, pressing their foreheads to the ground. No one dares to look at him. Fear hangs thick in the air. He enjoys this moment, the power, the silence mixed with screams

His eyes fall on the groom. The young man looks at him with pure hatred and helplessness, tears shining under the wedding lights. The man smiles wider, enjoying the pain in his eyes

Then his gaze shifts to the bride. She stands still, her eyes finally meeting his. For the first time, her blank expression cracks into shock. He walks toward her and stops right in front of her

Without asking, without warning, he grabs her hand. His grip is firm, possessive. The bride gasps softly, her body stiffening. Her father, kneeling nearby, looks up in horror. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out

The man pulls the bride forward, dragging her toward the burning body. Her feet move unwillingly, her legs trembling with each step

The heat grows stronger as they get closer. The fire roars, and the screams grow softer, weaker. The groom thrashes violently, screaming her name now, begging her not to go, but no one listens

"No amyra no please"

They stop near the fire. The man raises her hand and begins to walk around the burning body. One round... Two.... Three. He forces her to move with him, completing the sacred seven phera's in the most cursed way possible

With each step, her fear grows. Tears finally spill from her eyes, but her body feels numb. She is too terrified to scream. By the seventh round, the burning man’s voice fades into a broken moan

His head drops forward. Smoke fills the air. The ritual ends, and the man releases her hand only to grab the chains hanging loose nearby. He wraps them gently around her neck, almost lovingly, shaping them like a mangalsutra

The cold metal rests against her skin, making her shiver. Gasps echo through the crowd. Her father shakes his head, tears falling freely now....This is his only daughter.....His precious child. And she is being bound to a monster

The man then pulls out a knife from his pocket. Without hesitation, he cuts his own hand. Blood flows slowly, dark and thick. He reaches up and fills her hairline with it, marking her as his

The bride’s eyes widen in horror as she realizes what has been done. The man steps back, satisfied. He looks at everyone kneeling before him, at the groom screaming in despair, at the burned body finally falling silent

A cruel smile spreads across his face. In the middle of death and destruction, he has claimed his victory

"Ye to bas shuruwat hai... Ab shuru hoga maut ka khel... Shivansh singh rawat ka maut ka khel"

(This is just the beginning... Now the game of death will begin... Shivansh Singh rawat's game of death)

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