That night, the heat was unbearable.

Without fans or air-conditioning, the air pressed down like a suffocating blanket.

Mosquitoes buzzed around me, their tiny wings whispering like ghosts.

I tossed and turned, half-asleep, my mind drifting into a restless haze.

Then

A voice.

"Hey. I know who you are."

I froze.

The hairs on my arms stood on end.

A face appeared outside my window.

A man.

His eyes glowed red, his skin marked with dark, twisted symbols.

Malice pulsed from him, thick and suffocating.

"You've come from the future to stop me."

My breath caught in my throat.

How did he know?

"Go back!"

His voice boomed, shaking the very air.

And then

He vanished.

Just like that.

The suffocating presence lifted, but my terror remained.

What the hell was that?!

On instinct, I leapt from my bed, slammed the window shut, bolted the door, and ran.

Ran to Aunt.

The aunt’s room was at the far end of the courtyard.

I hesitated only for a second before knocking.

The door opened immediately.

Aunt stood there, her expression soft with concern.

"Saudamini?" she murmured.

My throat was dry, my words barely whispered.

"Can I... can I sleep with you?"

She didn’t ask why.

Didn’t hesitate.

She just opened the door wider.

The bed was large and safe.

She placed a small oil lamp beside us, its glow soothing.

"Extinguish the lamp and sleep, little one," she murmured.

As though she had done this before.

As though she knew.

---

The next morning, I woke up feeling heavy.

Drained.

Aunt sat beside me, her brow furrowed in concern.

Shaku entered, carrying a bowl of salt water.

"It’s happening again," she muttered under her breath.

Aunt’s grip tightened on my wrist.

"Should we call her?"

Shaku nodded.

Minutes later, an old woman entered.

Her skin was weathered, her hair tied in a loose bun, her eyes sharp and piercing.

She began to chant.

Low. Ancient. Powerful.

The air thickened, pressing down on me like a weight.

"Shh." Aunt pressed a finger to her lips, urging me to stay silent.

The chanting continued, weaving through the room like a spell.

Then

Silence.

The old woman stepped closer.

She painted my forehead with turmeric and white ash.

Her gaze locked onto mine.

"The evil has touched her again," she murmured.

A wave of dizziness crashed over me.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

---

Aunt’s Plea

When I woke, voices murmured outside the room.

Aunt.

Shaku.

The old woman.

"Please save her," Aunt’s voice trembled.

"It is fate," the old woman replied.

"Just like before," Shaku snapped. "You said the same thing when it happened to the mistress years ago!"

The old woman did not flinch.

"On Makar Sankranti, my Guru will arrive. Then, we will send the spirit to its afterlife."

A shiver ran down my spine.

Makar Sankranti.

The festival was approaching fast.

And something was coming with it.