The wheels of the car hummed against the cracked, winding road as the hills of India unfurled like an old memory around them. The scent of monsoon rain clung to the air, and distant temple bells echoed through the humid breeze. Ahana sat in the passenger seat, her fingers brushing lightly against the windowpane as her eyes danced with a strange mix of nostalgia and peace.
Aksh had been silent most of the ride, his sharp eyes scanning the changing scenery. But the moment they crossed into the state border, something shifted in him. Like a ghost brushing past his soul. His head tilted slightly as a jarring flash of memory exploded in his mind—a blurred vision of red, of blood mixing with water, and the echo of a scream. His fingers twitched on the steering wheel.
Ahana turned to him, unaware of his inner chaos. "We're close to home. But… can we stop at the temple first? It's important. I haven't been there in years, and maa always believed it keeps us safe."
Aksh didn't hesitate. "Of course."
They veered off the main road and began the ascent toward the famed hilltop temple. The climb wound around the cliffs, revealing sudden glimpses of the sea shimmering below. The closer they came, the louder the sounds of drums and conch shells became. As the temple appeared in view—golden, magnificent, perched high like a guardian—it became obvious they weren't alone.
Thousands of people had flooded the area. Colorful saris swirled in the wind, the air was thick with incense, and chants blended into a thunderous hymn. A religious festival was in full swing. Locals, travelers, saints, and children all bustled with fervor, the divine atmosphere so overwhelming it seemed to blur the line between heaven and earth.
Aksh stepped out first, scanning the perimeter instantly. His instincts stirred. Something didn't feel right.
Ahana stepped beside him, eyes wide with awe. "It's more crowded than I thought…"
"Stay close to me," Aksh said, voice low. He extended his hand. Without hesitation, she slid her fingers into his. His grip was firm, protective.
They began weaving through the sea of people, Aksh holding her tightly. But the tide was unrelenting. Devotees surged forward toward the sanctum, pushing, moving like a wave. Drums pounded louder, dizzying, and people shouted praises over one another.
Aksh called his guards through his earpiece, eyes darting. "Get to the upper hill. Make sure there's crowd control at the entrance."
But before he could hear a response, a sudden burst of shouting erupted nearby. A group of dancers performing with fire surged into the center of the crowd, causing a ripple in the masses. A collective push slammed into them like a tidal wave.
"Ahana!" Aksh shouted, tightening his hold.
But in the chaos, sweat-slicked hands jostled, arms pressed and shoved, and for a terrifying moment, his fingers lost her.
She was gone.
"AHANA!" he roared, fighting the current, shoving bodies aside. His heart was pounding—no, breaking. He tried to move forward, but the rush of people dragged him back like an undertow.
Ahana's scream cut through the air.
He turned—just in time to see her slender figure stumbling near the edge of the hill. Her foot slipped on the wet stone. She flailed, eyes wide with terror—and then her body tipped backward.
Off the edge.
Down, into the crashing sea below.
"NO!" Aksh's scream tore through the sky.
He pushed forward, ready to jump after her, but arms grabbed him. Not devotees. Not his men.
Unknown faces. Cold eyes.
A sharp sting pierced his neck.
Everything spun.
His knees hit the ground, vision blurring, the world collapsing into nothing but the sound of waves and that one word echoing in his ears:
"Ahana…"
And then, blackness.
The world had become nothing but chaos.
Ahana's scream was swallowed by the sea of voices, her fingers slipping through the air where Aksh's hand used to be. One moment he was there—gripping her tightly, shielding her from the rushing crowd—and the next, he was gone.
The pressure of bodies pushing and shoving from every side was unbearable. Her breath caught in her throat. She tried to fight it, push back, scream, but the momentum was stronger than her will. Her feet stumbled on the stone steps near the edge of the cliff-temple path, and she lost her balance.
The last thing she saw before falling was Aksh—turning back—his eyes wide, his mouth yelling her name.
Then—
Silence.
Gravity claimed her.
She plunged into the icy blue below.
The water embraced her like silk—gentle but final. She thrashed, her limbs struggling against the weightlessness, the silence, the cold. Her lungs screamed, aching to breathe. Her hair floated around her like a dark halo, and her dress twisted in the current like a red ribbon swirling in the depths.
And then, her eyes closed—
As her body drifted deeper—
It returned.
The nightmare.
That red dress… the chains… the gunshot.
She was a little girl again. Standing barefoot in the rain. A hand reaching for her. A voice calling her name—not Ahana. A different name. One she couldn't hear clearly, as if it was spoken underwater. She turned, only to see a woman with long hair covered in blood, holding her hand… pulling her toward fire.
In her vision, she ran. Screaming. Crying. And behind her, another silhouette—tall, male, bleeding… falling.
Aksh.
In another realm, not far away, Aksh's knees buckled as the tranquilizer rushed through his veins.
His vision blurred, and the sounds of the temple were muffled. He saw Ahana fall into the water, and he tried to call her name. His bodyguards were yelling, running toward him, but he felt arms grab him from behind. The sharp sting of the needle had already paralyzed his strength.
"Ahana…" his voice was a whisper.
And then, darkness.
But inside that darkness—
It was the same dream again.
Water. Blood. The red dress.
A car crash.
Chains.
He was on his knees in the middle of the road, drenched in rain. The same girl in the red dress was looking at him—crying, screaming. But this time… she looked like Ahana. No, it was Ahana. A younger version of her. Eyes wide with fear. Her hands pressed against a glass window as the car exploded behind her.
"No… no…" Aksh muttered in his unconsciousness, his brows twitching.
The dream twisted again.
Chains bound his wrists. He was being pulled into the darkness. And that same voice from the encounter in the luxury suite echoed again:
"You don't remember, do you? That's why you both suffer."
The dream was turning real. He could feel the cold metal. The weight of guilt. The familiarity.
And just before the dream consumed him, he saw her—
Ahana—floating lifeless in the water.
"No!" he screamed—inside his mind.
Back in the real world, under the water, Ahana's hand reached weakly toward the surface, the red hue of her dress blooming like a bleeding rose in the water.
Her eyes fluttered one last time—
And everything faded to blue.