The deafening blast still rang in Madhav's ears as he struggled to process what had just happened. His body ached, and his vision swam with dust and debris. The acrid scent of smoke burned his nostrils.
Through the haze, he forced himself to focus.
His eyes darted around the wrecked hospital room. Amidst the swirling dust, he could make out a figure—the ward boy.
The man was still standing, but barely. Both his hands were mangled from the explosion, deep gashes dripping blood. His right hand, in particular, was severely damaged.-
After Looking at the ward boy, Madhav feels that he absorbed the blast power by covering the bomb.
Madhav took a shaky breath. The pain in his limbs screamed at him, but he remained still, observing.
A commotion erupted outside ,Voices, Footsteps. People rushing toward the ruined room.
"Is everyone okay?" someone shouted.
Doctors, nurses, and hospital staff gathered near the entrance, trying to assess the damage, attempting to push their way in. The air was thick with panic.
Madhav turned his gaze back toward the ward boy—
But he was gone. Just a moment ago, the man had been right there, bleeding, barely able to stand. Now, there was nothing but dust and wreckage.
Meanwhile, in the hospital corridors, Meera hurried toward Madhav's room. A deep sense of unease settled in her chest. She hadn't heard from Madhav or Raj, and now a blast had shaken the building. Something was terribly wrong.
As she rushed forward, a figure passed by her.
She stopped mid-step, turning her head.
Here, Meera sees a person dressed in ward boy clothes, his face covered with cloth.
The man moved quickly, his posture tense, almost desperate. Blood dripped from his hands, staining the floor with each step. Her gaze flickered to his right hand—
Two or three of his fingers was missing.
Seeing him, she recognized him and thought it was him and what he is doing here.
The injured man didn't look back. He pressed forward, weaving through the crowd, heading straight for the hospital exit. Within moments, he was gone.
Meera swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly.
The room was in ruins. Smoke still lingered in the air, and shattered debris lay scattered across the floor. Hospital staff and security personnel rushed inside, their eyes widening at the scene before them.
Madhav sat on the ground, his body covered in bruises and cuts, blood trickling from his injured arm. But he barely noticed his own pain—his focus was entirely on Raj.
Raj lay motionless beside him, his face pale, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
"He's not opening his eyes," Madhav muttered, his voice hoarse. He shook Raj lightly, hoping for some response. But there was none.
A doctor pushed through the gathering crowd. "Move aside!" he ordered, kneeling next to Raj and checking his pulse. His brows furrowed with concern. "We need to get him to the emergency observation room. Now!"
Nurses rushed in with a stretcher, carefully lifting Raj onto it. Madhav tried to follow, but his legs wobbled beneath him. One of the nurses placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "You need medical attention too," she said.
"I'm fine," Madhav insisted, his eyes fixed on Raj as they wheeled him away.
Minutes blurred into hours.
Mohit arrived at the hospital, his expression dark with worry. As soon as he learned about Raj's condition and the chaos that had unfolded, his face hardened. "I can't believe this," he muttered. "How did things get this bad so fast?"
Anika arrived shortly after, her breath uneven as she took in the scene. Just a few hours ago, everything had seemed normal. Now, the hospital was in shambles. The lingering scent of smoke, the scattered debris, and the bloodstains on Madhav's shirt—it was all too much.
Her voice trembled. "How... how did this happen?" No one had an answer.
Two hours had passed since the blast.
Madhav, Mohit, and Anika sat on a bench in the hospital hallway, waiting anxiously for the doctor's update on Raj's condition. The tension in the air was suffocating, each second stretching unbearably long.
Meera stood near the corner of the wall, her hands clenched into fists. She wanted to talk to Madhav, but she couldn't find the strength to face him directly.
Mohit reached into his pocket and pulled out the cursed golden coin. He held it out to Madhav. "Here, take it back," he said, his voice filled with frustration.
Madhav looked at the coin but didn't take it. "Why? Weren't you supposed to destroy it?"
Mohit let out a sigh, a defeated look in his eyes. "I tried. I tried everything—throwing it into molten metal at an iron factory, soaking it in acid, even burning it in fire. Nothing worked."
Madhav remained silent, staring at the coin as if it held all the answers he desperately needed.
Anika placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Raj will be okay," she said softly.
Madhav exhaled sharply. His voice was heavy with guilt. "I can feel it… That person came for me. If I hadn't sent Raj to my room… this wouldn't have happened."
Suddenly, Priya appeared in front of them. Mohit, Madhav, and Anika looked up from their seats as she approached.
Anika was the first to speak. "Priya, you're here?"
Priya nodded. "Yes, I heard about what happened to Raj."
Mohit frowned. "How did you find out? We didn't inform anyone."
"Aman called me," Priya replied. "He told me everything."
Madhav stared at her, his face unreadable. He didn't say a word, but his silence carried a weight that made Priya shift uncomfortably.
Before anyone could say more, Mohit noticed a doctor approaching. They all stood up as the doctor reached them, his expression serious.
"We still don't understand what kind of drug was administered to Raj," the doctor said gravely. "But for now… he's in a coma."
A heavy silence fell over the group.
Priya's expression shifted the moment the doctor finished speaking. Her face darkened with anger as she turned toward Madhav.
"This is all because of you, Madhav," she snapped.
Madhav stood up slowly, his face tense.
"You were Raj's friend," Priya continued, her voice trembling with fury. "And because of you, he's in a coma now!"
Mohit stepped in, his voice firm. "Priya, why are you blaming Madhav for everything?"
"Because of his enemies!" she shot back. "Raj was attacked because of them. And now he's lying unconscious in that hospital room!"
Madhav clenched his fists. "They are not my enemies. I don't even know who they are!"
Anika placed a hand on Priya's shoulder. "Priya, please, calm down."
"Calm down?" Priya's voice rose. "How can I stay calm? Do you even know what I heard this morning? Aman told me everything about Madhav!"
Mohit narrowed his eyes. "Aman? What did he say to you?"
"That doesn't matter!" Priya said. "But now, after hearing the truth, I can't just sit quietly."
Mohit's expression hardened. "Aman is spreading lies about Madhav. I'll deal with him myself." His voice was edged with anger.
Priya hesitated for a second before saying, "Aman isn't in his hospital room anymore."
Mohit's jaw tightened. "So, he ran away?"
"I don't know where he is," Priya admitted.
Madhav exhaled, shaking his head. "Priya, whatever Aman told you about me today—it's not true. You need to stop believing him."
Priya took a deep breath, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "Fine," she said, her voice trembling. "I won't believe Aman's words. But tell me, Madhav—can you deny that Raj got hurt because of you? Not once, but twice?"
Madhav stood there, silent, unable to argue against the truth in her words.
Tears rolled down Priya's cheeks as she said, "I love him, Madhav… I can't bear to see him like this."
Anika stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm. "Priya, blaming Madhav won't change Raj's condition. It won't bring him back."
But Priya wouldn't listen. She shook her head, her sorrow and frustration overwhelming her. Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving the hospital behind. Madhav watched her go,
Mohit let out a frustrated sigh. "If Priya really loves Raj, she should be by his side right now, not running away."
Without another word, the three of them—Madhav, Mohit, and Anika—headed toward Raj's hospital room. Inside, Raj lay unconscious, his face pale, his body still. The steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room.
Mohit clenched his fists, his eyes filled with sorrow. "I can't believe this happened to him…"
Madhav stood at the foot of the bed, his heart heavy. He turned to Mohit and Anika. "Does either of you have a phone?"
"Yes," they both replied.
"Give me one," Madhav said.
Mohit handed over his phone without question. Madhav quickly dialed a number, his fingers trembling slightly. The call connected, and after a few rings, a familiar voice came through.
"Hello?"
"It's me, Madhav," he said, his voice calm but cold.
There was a pause before Purav responded, his tone casual. "Oh, it's you. How are you, little brother?"
Madhav's grip on the phone tightened. "I'm doing just fine, Purav."
"That's good to hear. What's the occasion?"
Madhav took a deep breath. "Because of your golden coin, my life has turned into a nightmare."
There was silence on the other end. Then, Purav laughed nervously. "What are you talking about? I have no idea what you mean."
"You'll understand soon enough," Madhav said darkly.
Before Purav could respond, the call ended. Madhav lowered the phone, his expression unreadable.
And madhav said that i have to go my home tomorrow.
On the other side of the room, standing just beyond the doorway, Meera watched them in silence.
The dim glow of the bedside lamp flickered as Purav paced restlessly across his room. The weight of the night pressed heavily on his shoulders, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. His fingers twitched as he clenched and unclenched his fists, his mind racing.
Madhav knows... He knows everything.
The realization sent a cold shiver down his spine. He had underestimated his younger brother. Madhav was never meant to uncover the truth behind the golden coin. But now that he had, there was no turning back.
Purav's anxious eyes darted toward the clock on the wall. 1:00 AM. Midnight had passed, and the air in the room felt unnaturally heavy. His breathing became uneven, but his resolve hardened.
"I'll have to make another deal."
With trembling hands, he reached for the small wooden box resting in his drawer. The ancient carvings on its surface seemed to pulse under his touch. Taking a deep breath, he whispered, "I want something from you."
Silence.
A thick, suffocating stillness swallowed the room, as if the world itself had stopped. Purav's heartbeat thundered in his ears. Then, without warning—
Drip.
A single drop of blood seeped from the cracks of the wooden box. Then another. And another. A deep crimson pool formed at its base, spreading across the floor. Purav stumbled back, his breath hitching.
And then, from within the box, something rolled out—
A golden coin.
It spun erratically, glinting under the dim light before rolling across the floor, slipping past the doorway and into the darkness beyond.
Purav hesitated only for a second before stepping forward to retrieve it—
But as he reached out, the door creaked open on its own.
A frigid wind howled into the room, carrying with it the scent of decay. Shadows twisted unnaturally along the walls, stretching, writhing. And then—
It stepped inside.
A figure cloaked in darkness, its body shrouded in a dense, shifting black aura. It had no hair, no defining features—except for a single, glaring eye in the middle of its face. The eye pulsed like a dying ember, burning with malevolence.
Purav froze in place, his throat tightening. He could feel it—this was no mere spirit. Something evil.
The demon's lips curled into a grotesque grin, though it had no mouth. Its voice slithered through the room like a whisper from the grave.
"What do you desire, mortal?"
Purav swallowed hard, forcing a weak, trembling smile.
"But remember…"
The demon took a slow step forward, the shadows around it seething like living tendrils.
"Nothing comes without a price."