The bus stopped at a crossroads just outside the small town. Madhav stepped off, slinging his bag over his shoulder. His childhood home loomed at the end of the narrow lane, its faded walls and overgrown garden whispering of memories both bitter and sweet.
As he reached the front door, Madhav hesitated for a moment before ringing the bell.
The door creaked open, revealing his father's stern face. Mr. Jai barely glanced at Madhav before stepping aside, his voice cold and indifferent.
Father (gruffly):
"Come in."
Madhav stepped into the familiar hallway, his bag feeling heavier than before. The house smelled of old wood and faint incense, yet the warmth he had longed for was absent.
Father (without looking at him):
"Leave your shoes by the door. Your mother's busy in the kitchen."
Madhav (quietly): "Okay."
He placed his shoes neatly by the door and looked around. Everything was just as he remembered—yet it all felt different, distant.
Before Madhav could say anything, Purav appeared at the top of the staircase, dressed casually but with an air of authority. He descended slowly, his gaze fixed on Madhav.
Purav (smiling faintly):
"You're finally here. Good. Go freshen up, and then come to my room. We need to talk about something important."
Madhav nodded, sensing a strange urgency in Purav's tone. Without another word, he headed to his old room.
Madhav pushed open the door to his room, the hinges squealing softly. The space was just as he had left it—a simple bed, a wooden desk, and a small shelf lined with books. Yet it felt like a time capsule, frozen in the years since he had left for boarding school.
He set his bag down and sat on the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath. The weight of his family's cold reception pressed heavily on him. He had hoped for some warmth, some semblance of belonging, but it seemed the distance between him and his family had only grown.
After a moment, he stood up, washed his face, and changed into fresh clothes. As he dried his hands.
Madhav (muttering to himself):
"What does he want to talk about now?"
With a mix of curiosity and unease, he made his way to Purav's room, bracing himself for whatever was to come.
Madhav pushed open the door to Purav's room. The air inside was heavy with the scent of sandalwood, and the dim light from a single lamp cast long shadows on the walls. Purav sat at a large wooden desk, his fingers tapping lightly on a stack of papers.
Madhav (smiling faintly): "How are you, big brother?"
Before sitting, Madhav bent down to touch Purav's feet, a gesture of respect.
Purav (patting his shoulder): "It's okay, Madhav. No need for all that formality. Come here, sit down. We need to talk."
Madhav sat in the chair Purav gestured to, his curiosity piqued.
Purav (leaning forward, holding up a folder):
"I have something important to show you."
He pulled out a set of documents and laid them on the desk in front of Madhav. The paper was old, the ink slightly faded, but the name of their grandfather's lawyer was clearly visible.
Purav: "A few days ago, Father and I met with Grandfather's lawyer. He handed me these documents."
Madhav frowned, his eyes scanning the pages.
Purav (calmly but firmly): "According to Grandfather's will, the entire property and most of the wealth have been transferred to you, Madhav. Everything. The house, the land, the bank accounts… it's all in your name."
Madhav's heart skipped a beat. He stared at Purav in disbelief, his voice barely above a whisper.
Madhav: "What? Why me? You're the elder son. It should've gone to you."
Purav's lips twisted into a bitter smile.
Purav: "That's what Father and I thought too. But Grandfather had his reasons. He said you were the one who deserved it, that you would know what to do with it when the time came."
Madhav's mind raced. This wasn't just unexpected—it was unsettling. He couldn't understand why his grandfather, who had always seemed distant, would leave everything to him.
Purav leaned back in his chair, his tone growing darker.
Purav: "There's one more thing. Grandfather left me a small piece of land—just 100 yards. And with it, an old gold coin.
Madhav's pulse quickened.
Madhav (hesitating): "A gold coin?"
Purav pulling out a small object wrapped in an old, delicate cloth.
Madhav stared as Purav carefully unwrapped the cloth, revealing an ancient gold coin, its surface engraved with strange, intricate symbols.
Purav (placing the coin on the desk):
"Grandfather believed it holds special significance… that it would bring luck to the one who carries it."
Madhav leaned in, examining the coin. Its surface seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light, and a strange chill crept up his spine as he reached out to touch it.
Madhav (frowning slightly):
"Grandfather gave this to me? Why?"
Purav leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.
Purav: "He believed you were destined for something greater, that this coin would guide you. I don't know the full story, but he was insistent that it go to you, not me."
Madhav picked up the coin, its cool surface sending a shiver through his fingers. Something about it felt… off, though he couldn't quite place why.
Purav kept the darker truth buried deep. He had learned from their grandfather that the coin was no mere token of luck—it carried a curse, But Purav said nothing, his face betraying no hint of the secret.
Purav (calmly): "Take it, Madhav. Keep it safe. Grandfather believed it would protect you and bring you success."
Madhav (nodding slowly): "Alright. If Grandfather wanted me to have it, I'll keep it."
Purav smiled faintly, though his eyes seemed distant, almost shadowed.
Purav (standing up): "Good. Now go get some rest. You've had a long journey."
Madhav returned to his room, the coin still in his hand. As he closed the door behind him, he sat on the edge of the bed, turning the coin over in his fingers.
The strange engravings seemed to shift under the light, almost as if they were alive. A faint whisper echoed in his mind, too soft to understand, but it sent a chill down his spine.
Madhav (muttering):
"Lucky, huh? Let's hope so."
He slipped the coin into his bag.
The moonlight filtered through the thin curtains of Madhav's room, casting pale streaks across the walls. The room was silent except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan. Madhav lay on his bed, his breathing steady—until a strange sensation gripped him.
His eyes flicked open, dry and heavy. A sudden thirst parched his throat. He tried to move, but his body felt pinned down, as if unseen hands were holding him in place.
Madhav (muttering hoarsely):
"W-What…?"
He struggled against the invisible force, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. With every ounce of strength, he finally broke free, gasping for air.
Staggering to his feet, he stumbled toward the kitchen in search of water. The house was eerily quiet, each step echoing unnaturally in the dark corridor.
As Madhav reached the kitchen, his breath caught in his throat. His father, mother, and grandfather were seated around the dining table. Their faces were blank, their eyes unblinking, staring into nothingness.
But it wasn't possible.
Madhav (whispering, trembling):
"Grandfather? But… he's… he's gone."
His legs felt like lead as he stepped closer. The flickering light above the table cast grotesque shadows on their faces, making them seem almost inhuman.
Madhav's voice trembled as he tried to speak.
Madhav: "Father? Mother? What's going on?"
Suddenly, as if on cue, the three figures snapped their heads toward him, their mouths stretching open unnaturally wide. A guttural, ear-piercing scream erupted from their throats, the sound echoing like a storm within the confines of the house.
Madhav (stumbling backward):
"No! This… this isn't real!"
The figures shot up from their chairs, their movements jerky and unnatural, and began to lunge toward him. Their faces twisted into grotesque masks of rage, eyes hollow and mouths emitting an unearthly wail.
Madhav's heart pounded as he tried to scream, but no sound came out. Just as the figures were about to reach him
They vanished.
Madhav jolted awake, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. He was back in his bedroom, the familiar walls and furniture grounding him in reality.
The air was stifling, heavy with a suffocating heat. He touched his face, his hands trembling.
Madhav (whispering to himself):
"Just a dream… but it felt so real."
His eyes darted to the bag at the corner of the room where the gold coin was hidden. A gnawing unease clawed at him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that the coin had something to do with this.
He lay back down, but sleep refused to come. The shadows in the room seemed to stretch and shift, as though they were alive, watching, waiting.
Madhav stepped out of his room, still shaken from the vivid nightmare. His mother stood in the kitchen, her hands busy sorting vegetables. Her sharp voice cut through the morning quiet.
Mother (frowning): "Madhav, if you're going to use the chairs and table in the kitchen, put them back where they belong! Look at this mess!"
Madhav stopped in his tracks, his heart skipping a beat.
Madhav (confused): "I didn't… I didn't touch anything." His mother shot him a skeptical glance.
Mother (sternly): "Don't lie. Who else would've done it? You're the only one awake so early."
Madhav's mind raced. Images of the nightmare flashed before him—his father, mother, and grandfather seated eerily at the table. Could it have been real? No, it was impossible. Yet the unsettling thought lingered.
As Madhav stood lost in thought, Purav walked in, noticing his brother's pale face.
Purav (gently): "Madhav, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Madhav turned to him, trying to mask his unease.
Madhav: "It's nothing, Bhaiya. Just didn't sleep well."
Purav's eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed something.
Purav: "Wait, Madhav… your nose."
Madhav instinctively touched his face and felt the warm, sticky trail of blood trickling from his nose.
Madhav (startled): "W-What? I didn't even feel it…"
Purav grabbed a tissue from the counter and handed it to him.
Purav (calmly): "Here. Be careful, brother. You've been pushing yourself too much lately."
Madhav dabbed at the blood, his hands trembling slightly.
Madhav (forcing a smile): "Thanks, Bhaiya. I'll be fine."
But inside, the unease was growing. The blurred lines between dream and reality were starting to gnaw at him.
As Purav patted him on the shoulder and walked away, Madhav glanced back at the kitchen. His mother was still muttering under her breath, rearranging the furniture.
Madhav (thinking): "If I didn't move those chairs… then who did?"
He clenched the tissue in his hand, his mind spiraling with questions. Was the nightmare trying to tell him something? Was the coin beginning to reveal its curse?
One thing was certain—Madhav couldn't ignore the strange events unfolding around him any longer.
After leaving the kitchen, Madhav hesitated for a moment outside his father's study. He took a deep breath and knocked lightly.
Father (without looking up): "Come in."
Madhav stepped inside, the room dimly lit by the morning sun filtering through the blinds. His father sat at the desk, scribbling something in a ledger.
Madhav (nervously):
"Papa… do you have a minute?"
His father glanced up, his expression neutral but distant.
Father:
"What is it, Madhav? I'm busy."
Madhav swallowed hard, trying to push past the awkwardness.
Madhav: "I just… wanted to talk. It's been a while since we've had a proper conversation."
His father set down the pen, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.
Father: "Conversation? What's there to talk about, Madhav?"
Madhav shifted uncomfortably, searching for the right words.
Madhav: "Papa, I know things haven't been easy between us, but—"
His father cut him off, his tone sharp but calm.
Father: "Do you know why, Madhav? I always thought your grandfather would leave his property to Purav. He's the eldest, the one who's always been responsible, the one who truly understands this family's legacy."
Madhav's chest tightened at the words.
Father (continuing): "But no. Instead, he gave it all to you, someone who's barely been home, someone who—"
He stopped himself, his eyes narrowing.
Madhav (softly):
"Someone who… what, Papa?"
Father (coldly): "Someone who doesn't even understand what it means to carry the family name."
The words hit Madhav like a blow. He clenched his fists, his voice barely a whisper.
Madhav: "I never asked for any of this. I've tried my best, Papa."
His father shook his head, looking away.
Father: "Trying isn't enough, Madhav. You have to prove you're worthy of what you've been given."
Madhav stood there for a moment, the silence between them heavy and suffocating. Finally, he turned to leave, his shoulders tense.
Madhav (to himself):
"I'll prove it, Papa. Somehow, I'll prove it."
As he walked out of the room, the weight of his father's words pressed down on him.
As Madhav walked out of his father's study, his head hung low, he barely noticed the figure standing in the shadows just outside the doorway.
Purav leaned casually against the wall, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. But as Madhav passed, Purav's lips curled into a subtle, hateful smile. His eyes followed his younger brother, filled with a quiet, simmering anger.
Purav (muttering to himself):
"So, the golden boy feels the sting of rejection too."
He waited a moment before stepping into the doorway, his gaze lingering on their father, who was now lost in thought, staring at the desk.
Purav (thinking): "Grandfather gave him everything. The property, the respect, and now even Papa's attention. And for what? He's weak, clueless… undeserving."
He remembered the day their grandfather's will was read, the bitterness that had taken root in his heart when the old man had chosen Madhav over him.
Purav (to himself, coldly): "But not for long. That coin… it's my key to taking back what's mine."
His eyes flicked toward Madhav's retreating figure, a sinister gleam in them. He had kept the truth about the coin's curse hidden, and now it was time to let the darkness do its work.
Purav straightened and walked away, his footsteps echoing softly down the hall.
In the distance, he could hear Madhav's footsteps fading.
Purav (whispering to himself): "Enjoy your little inheritance while you can, brother.
he disappeared into the shadows."
The third day at home felt like an eternity for Madhav. The cold stares of his father, the awkward silences during meals, and Purav's sly smirks weighed heavily on him. Finally, the time came to leave.
Madhav zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. As he stepped into the living room, Purav was already there, leaning against the doorframe with a casual air.
Purav (with a smirk): "So, all packed? Ready to leave us so soon?"
Madhav forced a smile.
Madhav: "Yeah, all set."
Purav (mockingly): "And sweets for your friends? Or are you leaving empty-handed?"
Madhav hesitated, then shook his head.
Madhav: "No sweets. I'll grab some from the market near the bus stand."
Purav chuckled, his eyes gleaming with an almost predatory amusement.
Purav: "Smart. Don't forget, little brother—your friends deserve a taste of home."
There was something in his tone that made Madhav uneasy, but he didn't respond.
Madhav walked toward the door, his mother appearing briefly to hand him a tiffin box. She didn't say much, only murmuring a quiet, "Take care." His father remained in the study, not even coming out to bid him goodbye.
As Madhav stepped out, Purav followed him to the gate.
Purav (patting Madhav's shoulder): "Travel safe. And don't lose the coin. It's… special."
The words hung in the air, and Madhav felt a chill despite the warm morning sun.
The bus stand was crowded with vendors shouting and passengers hustling to board. Madhav bought a box of sweets from a stall and boarded the bus, finding a seat by the window.
As the bus pulled away, he glanced back at the town fading in the distance. Despite the tension at home, he couldn't shake the feeling that something dark was following him, clinging to him like a shadow.
Madhav (thinking):
"This coin… why does it feel like everything changed the moment I got it?"
He touched the small pouch in his bag where the coin was tucked away, a sense of unease creeping over him.
As the bus sped along the winding roads, Madhav closed his eyes, trying to push the thoughts aside.
In the dimly lit room, Purav sat at his desk, his fingers tracing the edges of an old, weathered file. Beside it lay a yellowed envelope, sealed with a faint imprint of their grandfather's initials.
Purav carefully opened the file, his eyes scanning the contents with an indifferent expression.
Document Title:
"Family Records: Jaya – Daughter of Suryanath Anand"
His lips curled into a knowing smirk.
Purav (to himself):
"So, it's all here. Madhav, the son of Jaya… my grandfather's hidden legacy."
He leaned back in his chair, the weight of the family secret feeling like a weapon he had long held.
Purav's mind raced as he recalled his grandfather's last words about the mysterious box and its cursed contents.
Purav (thinking):
"Grandfather thought keeping the truth hidden would protect this family. But all it did was create a weakling like Madhav, inheriting what should have been mine."
He clenched his fist, glancing at the pouch on his desk where the cursed coin had been stored.
Purav (smirking):
"That coin belongs to him now. Let him carry the weight of the curse. Let the demon decide his fate."
Purav opened the fragile envelope, unfolding the letter inside. His eyes narrowed as he read:
Dear Purav,
I have entrusted you with a dangerous responsibility. The old box in your possession is not just an heirloom—it is a prison. Inside lies a cursed coin bound to a demon. The seal on the box keeps the demon dormant. Do not open it, no matter the temptation.
The demon cannot harm the one who possesses the box, but if the box is passed on, the demon's wrath will awaken. Protect this secret, and never let the box leave your hands. Our family's survival depends on it.
Suryanath Anand.
Purav's hands tightened around the letter as he finished reading.
Purav (muttering): "So, the demon can't touch me as long as I have the box. But now the curse is Madhav's problem."
He folded the letter carefully, placing it back into the envelope. His smirk deepened, satisfaction glinting in his eyes.
Purav (to himself):
"Let's see how long you survive, little brother. "Good luck, Madhav. You'll need it."