With a single, monstrous leap, the skeletal beast vaulted toward the edge of the roaring volcano, dragging Raghav down with it into the smothering darkness below. The searing heat enveloped him, molten lava churning just below. Raghav's heart thundered with dread, and as he looked into the swirling depths of fiery red, panic overtook him. The world blurred, his vision fading to black as consciousness slipped from his grasp.
---
When Raghav awoke, he was lying on a strange floor that pulsed beneath him, like the heartbeat of something unnatural. Veins of molten lava flowed in twisted patterns across the ground, casting faint, ominous light around the chamber. The air was thick, oppressive, and carried the faint scent of decay. As his senses returned, Raghav realized with horror that the ground seemed to be alive, breathing in shallow rhythms.
Out of the shadows, a figure emerged—a withered, decrepit old man who moved with a sinister slowness. His eyes gleamed with a malevolent intelligence, and as he stepped closer, Raghav's gaze fell upon the man's hands, which began to twist and transform. The flesh peeled away, revealing raw muscle and sinew, as if some unspeakable transformation were taking place.
Without warning, the old man lunged forward, his sinewy claw wrapping around Raghav's throat and lifting him effortlessly off the ground. Raghav's own heartbeat pounded in his ears, terror rooting him to the spot, his voice stolen by fear. He felt a strange, haunting presence—a feeling as though his mother were nearby, yet clouded by an overwhelming darkness.
The old man, his eyes cold and unyielding, released Raghav, dropping him back onto the breathing ground. Slowly, he knelt, his gnarled fingers clawing at the earth. With a grim focus, he began digging a deep hole, and as the ground split open, lava surged upward, spilling and pooling like molten blood. In a voice that sounded as if it rose from the bowels of the earth, he began to chant:
"Tya jev hwov nak jwiv tya, hwir hei main tya hddi krtu lpun ja tya…"
The words seemed to seep into Raghav's mind, filling him with a foreboding that gnawed at his sanity. With a smooth, practiced motion, the old man drew a sword from his own flesh, dark and gleaming. In one swift stroke, he severed his own head, letting both the blade and his head fall into the bubbling lava below.
Then, impossibly, the old man's head began to regenerate, tendons weaving and flesh reforming as he rose once more, whole and unscathed. A cold, twisted smile curled on his lips as he stepped toward Raghav.
Before Raghav could utter a sound, the old man seized him by the shoulders, and with a heartless laugh, he hurled him into the fiery maw of the lava pit.
To be continued__**
Hay writer here I still can't figure out why I can't upload book cover! but whatever please drop your comment