Aman barely slept that night, his mind restless with the string of events that had unraveled. The fear had grown into a palpable force, and the whispered rumors on set were only amplifying the tension. As the first light of dawn crept through his window, he knew there was no turning back. Today, he had to confront the shadows that had been haunting the production.
The set was quiet when he arrived that morning. Too quiet.
He found Nisha in her usual spot, already pacing as she spoke into her phone. Her usual sharp demeanor was weighed down by exhaustion. She hung up as soon as she saw him approach.
"They've pulled half of the budget," she said flatly, not bothering with pleasantries. "Investors are getting spooked by all the reports coming from the crew."
Aman cursed under his breath. The financial strain was becoming unbearable, but that was the least of their worries now. If they couldn't solve the mystery of what was happening, it wouldn't matter how much money they had — the production would implode under the pressure.
"We'll get through it," Aman said, but even as the words left his mouth, they felt hollow. His resolve was weakening, but he couldn't show it. Not now.
Nisha looked at him, her eyes dark with worry. "Do you really believe that?"
Before Aman could respond, a loud crash echoed from one of the adjacent rooms. Without thinking, they both rushed toward the noise, their footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. The door to the storage room stood ajar, and as Aman pushed it open, he was met with a chaotic scene — broken equipment, scattered papers, and a single camera, its lens shattered as though it had been thrown across the room.
Nisha stepped forward, her voice barely above a whisper. "What the hell is going on here?"
---
Hours passed, but there were no answers. They questioned the crew, but no one had seen anything. The atmosphere on set had shifted from tense to outright paranoia, and the strange occurrences were escalating. Equipment malfunctioned, lights flickered ominously, and more cryptic messages appeared, warning Aman of betrayal and danger lurking close by.
Aman sat in his office, staring at the latest message on his phone.
"They are closer than you think."
His grip tightened around the phone. There was no denying it anymore — someone was deliberately trying to sabotage the production. But who? Rajeev? Someone from the crew? Or was it something darker, as Riya feared?
He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. If this was a game, then he was done playing. He needed answers. He needed control. And he was going to get it.
---
That night, Aman returned to the set alone. He had asked Nisha to take the crew home early, insisting they needed a break. But in truth, he needed to be alone. He needed to confront whatever force had been terrorizing them.
Armed with nothing but his phone and a flashlight, he made his way through the dimly lit corridors of the studio. His footsteps echoed in the silence, and the air felt thick, almost oppressive. Every shadow seemed to move, every flicker of light a warning of something hidden in the dark.
He reached the storage room where the crash had occurred earlier. The door creaked as he pushed it open, the faint scent of dust and old film reels filling the air. But it wasn't the chaos of the broken equipment that caught his attention.
It was the figure standing in the corner, half-hidden in the shadows.
Aman's breath caught in his throat as he pointed his flashlight toward the figure. For a brief moment, he saw it — a figure dressed in black, face obscured, watching him from the corner of the room.
Without thinking, he rushed toward it, his heart pounding in his chest. But as he neared the corner, the figure seemed to vanish, dissolving into the shadows as though it had never been there at all.
Aman stood frozen, his mind racing. What had he just seen? Was it a trick of the light, or was there truly someone — or something — haunting the set?
---
The following morning, Aman gathered the team. He could no longer afford to keep them in the dark. If they were going to survive this production, they needed to know everything.
Standing in front of the crew, Aman took a deep breath and spoke. "I know you've all heard the rumors. I know some of you are scared, and I don't blame you. But there's something happening here that we can't ignore anymore."
The room was silent, all eyes on him.
"Someone is trying to sabotage us. Whether it's Rajeev or someone else, I don't know. But we can't let them win. We've worked too hard, come too far, to let this production fall apart now."
He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each of his crew members. "If you want to walk away, I understand. But if you're with me, then we fight. We fight until we get to the bottom of this."
There was a moment of hesitation, but then, one by one, his team nodded in agreement. The resolve in their eyes mirrored his own. They were in this together, no matter what.
---
As the day wore on, Aman felt a strange sense of calm wash over him. For the first time in weeks, he felt like he had regained some semblance of control. But that calm was shattered when Nisha approached him later that afternoon, her face pale and her voice shaking.
"Aman, you need to see this," she said, handing him a file.
Inside were a series of reports, documents detailing financial transfers and contracts signed behind Aman's back. His heart sank as he realized what he was looking at. Someone on the inside had been working against them, feeding information to their enemies.
And at the top of the list of suspects was a name Aman never expected to see.
Riya.