Madhav's breath hitched as the undead figures lurched toward him, their scorched, decaying bodies flickering in the glow of the raging fire. His foot slipped on the heated floor, and he stumbled backward, crashing onto the ground. The heat pressed against his skin, searing him. He clenched his jaw as pain shot through his body—his arms were already burned, his clothes singed.
The undead moved closer. Their hollow eyes locked onto him, their skeletal hands reaching out, eager to tear him apart.
No! I can't die here.
Summoning what little strength remained, Madhav pushed himself up and ran—dodging through the flames, shielding himself from the burning embers falling from the ceiling. He sprinted toward the kitchen, hoping for a way out.
But as he turned the corner, his heart froze.
More undead awaited him inside, their charred bodies twisted, their jaws unhinged in grotesque grins.
One of them lunged.
Think fast!
Madhav dropped to the floor at the last second, sliding beneath its grasp. He barely avoided its skeletal fingers grazing his neck. Scrambling to his feet, his eyes darted toward the sink.
The tap. It wasn't on fire.
He lunged toward it, twisting the handle with shaky hands. Water gushed out. Without hesitation, he splashed it over his burning skin and clothes, the cool liquid soothing him just enough to keep moving. He cupped more water and threw it at the flames, but—
The fire didn't go out.
It was unnatural. It refused to die.
A sudden, bone-chilling grip latched onto his wrist.
Madhav's breath hitched. He turned—an undead had grabbed him. Its fingers dug into his flesh, its grip vice-like, unyielding.
Panic surged through him. Think, think! His gaze flickered to the kitchen counter.
A knife.
With a desperate snarl, he snatched it and swung, slicing through the undead's wrist.
The severed hand dropped to the floor—but the creature didn't even flinch. Its burning eyes remained locked onto him, its grin widening as if mocking his attempt to fight back.
They don't feel pain.
Madhav's chest heaved. I can't fight them like this. There was only one option.
Gritting his teeth, he turned and ran.
He dodged through the inferno, shielding his face from the heat, his skin blistering, his lungs burning with every breath. He had to reach Purav's room.
Madhav's lungs burned as he sprinted up the stairs, the wooden steps scorched beneath his feet. Flames licked at the walls, casting monstrous shadows that danced like demons in the flickering glow. He could hear the groaning behind him—the undead were closing in.
His pulse pounded in his ears.
Almost there! Purav's room was just a few steps away—
But suddenly, from the fire, five, six—undead figures emerged, blocking his path.
Their charred, skeletal faces twisted into grotesque smiles, their hollow eyes locked onto him. The fire behind them roared, painting them in an eerie, demonic glow.
Madhav's breath hitched. He skidded to a stop, his body tense.
Then—they attacked.
A cold, dead hand clamped onto his arm, another grabbed his shoulder. Madhav struggled, twisting, trying to break free.
"Hey, demons! Are you my big brother's servants or what?" Madhav spat, his voice laced with anger and desperation.
But undead didn't answer. They just threw him.
Madhav's body crashed against the burning floor, pain jolting through his spine as he tumbled across the first-floor landing. The heat of the flames seared his skin, and for a moment, his vision blurred.
He gasped, trying to push himself up—but the undead were already advancing.
No time to think. Move!
One of the creatures lunged—Madhav swung his knife with all his strength, stabbing it straight through its skull. The blade sank deep, blackened blood oozing from the wound. The creature jerked, its body twitching before it collapsed.
But the others kept coming.
Madhav dodged, barely avoiding their clawing hands. He scrambled sideward, his breath ragged, his muscles screaming in protest. His eyes locked onto his goal—Purav's room.
Just a few steps away.
With a desperate burst of energy, Madhav lunged, reaching the door.
His hands fumbled for the handle—he gripped it tight and twisted.
As Madhav's fingers trembled as he gripped the door handle. His breath was ragged, his body aching from burns and exhaustion. He twisted the handle—
And the door creaked open.
A wave of pure darkness surged out, thick and suffocating, curling around him like unseen hands. A bitter, metallic scent filled his nostrils—blood.
Stepping inside, Madhav's foot landed on something wet. He looked down—the floor was slick with blood, pooling like ink across the wooden surface.
"Bhaiya…?" his voice barely a whisper.
Then, in the dim glow of flickering light, he saw him— Purav.
Seated in an ornate chair, legs crossed, posture relaxed, a smug, chilling smile on his face.
"Come in, my dear little brother." Purav's voice was smooth, almost playful. His dark eyes gleamed with something unnatural.
Madhav took a hesitant step forward—
And suddenly, a chorus of guttural groans rose from the shadows.
Madhav froze.
From the depths of the room, the darkness shifted.
And then—they emerged.
Undead.
Their hollow sockets burned with a ghostly fire, their charred flesh cracked as they moved. They crawled from the walls, the corners, the shadows themselves, until they surrounded him.
Madhav's breath came in short, shallow gasps. He spun around—but the door behind him slammed shut.
More undead rose from the darkness.
He was trapped.
"Listen, Bhaiya—please stop this! Please, big brother!" Madhav's voice cracked, desperation creeping in.
Purav chuckled, tilting his head.
"Oh, Madhav… Why would I stop now?" His smile stretched wider, his voice dripping with amusement.
The undead moved closer.
Their voices hissed in unison, a grotesque chorus whispering death:
"Die now… Die now…"
Before Madhav could react, one of them swung a rotting fist—crack!
Pain exploded in his ribs as he was thrown back. Another blow—his vision blurred. His body convulsed under their relentless strikes, like a punching bag caught in a storm.
He couldn't fight back.
Blood trickled from his lips. His limbs felt heavy. The world around him faded into darkness.
And then—
A fiery glow flared in the room.
One of the undead raised its hand, and in its grip, a burning sword materialized, its flames licking the air like a hungry beast.
Purav leaned forward in his chair, watching with cold amusement.
"Now, die for me, my little brother." His voice was a whisper of venom.
The undead lifted the sword above Madhav's chest—
And at that moment, deep in the void of unconsciousness, Madhav heard voices.
Raj.
Mohit.
Their voices rang in his mind, desperate, urgent.
"Wake up, Madhav! Right now, wake up!"
His eyes snapped open.
In a split second, he rolled to the side, the burning sword slamming into the ground where he had just been. Sparks erupted, scorching the bloodstained floor.
Adrenaline surged through him.
Before the undead could strike again, Madhav swung his leg out, kicking one creature hard. It toppled backward, crashing into the others.
A chance.
This was his moment.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed off the ground, his body screaming in protest. And then—
He launched himself forward, straight at Purav.
Madhav grabbed Purav's right hand, his voice trembling with desperation.
"Please, Bhaiya… end this."
Purav's eyes gleamed with a twisted amusement, but as Madhav's grip tightened, something felt wrong.
His fingers—one was missing.
A chill crawled down Madhav's spine. He reached for Purav's left hand, but—
It wasn't there.
His brother's entire left arm was gone.
Madhav's breath hitched. "Bhaiya… what happened to you?"
Purav's lips curled into a sickening grin. "Because of you."
His voice was unstable, fractured—like a man teetering on the edge of insanity.
Madhav's chest tightened with guilt. "Why, Bhaiya? What have I done?" His voice cracked. "I always believed in you… more than even our father and mother."
Purav's eyes darkened, his grin stretching into something almost inhuman.
"It was never about your belief in me, Madhav." His voice dripped with venom. "It was about Dadaji."
The air in the room grew heavier, suffocating. The flames in the background flared, their glow twisting Purav's face into something monstrous.
"He didn't believe in me," Purav continued, his voice rising with fury. "That old man handed everything to you—his money, his trust, his legacy—
"And what did I get? NOTHING!"
With unbridled rage, Purav shoved Madhav backwards.
Madhav hit the ground hard, his body aching from the burns and bruises. He looked up at his brother, tears brimming in his eyes.
"Bhaiya, please… stop this." His voice was barely above a whisper. "If it's money you want… take it."
Purav tilted his head, his grin stretching wider.
"Stop?" His laughter echoed, distorted, unnatural.
"Why would I stop now, Madhav?" His voice trembled with madness.
The flames surged, licking the ceiling, turning the room into a blazing inferno.
"If I take your life…" Purav's single eye gleamed in the firelight. "Then all that money will be mine… automatically."
A wave of pure malice radiated from him, the fire feeding off his fury.
Madhav's heart sank. His brother—his once-loving brother—was truly
A deep anger
With a roar of desperation, Madhav lunged and punched Purav square in the face.
Crack!
Purav's head snapped back, his body
The undead lurched forward
Without thinking, Madhav grabbed a wooden table and hurled it at them, sending the creatures staggering back into the fire.
He didn't stop.
His fists rained down on Purav, eight brutal punches landing hard
"Wake up, Bhaiya!" Madhav shouted, shaking him violently. "Look at what you've done!
"Because of you, our parents—our neighbors —are suffering! They're unconscious, maybe worse!
Purav, blood dripping from his lip, chuckled darkly.
"So what?" His voice was cold, lifeless.
Madhav staggered back, disbelief twisting inside him.
His fists
Then—"Big brother, from day one, if you had simply told me you wanted grandfather's property and money, I would have given it to you without question. Instead, you gave me a cursed coin and even offered my life to a demon."
With a sharp breath, he pulled the golden coin from his pocket and throw in ground.
The coin clattered against the floor, gleaming ominously.
Purav's lips curled into a sick smile. He slowly reached into his coat and pulled out.
The moment the box appeared, a wave of darkness pulsed through the room—as if the shadows themselves were.
Purav's one eye gleamed
"See this, dear brother?" His voice was a whisper laced with malice.
He bent down, his fingers brushing the golden coin.
"If you have the courage, Madhav…"
Purav's grin widened as he slowly opened the box, revealing its empty.
"…then put the coin inside."
Madhav took a cautious step forward, his eyes locked on the small box in Purav's hand.
But before he could get close—
Purav smirked and gave a signal to undead .
The flames around him exploded upward, roaring like a living beast, forcing Madhav to stumble back.
The heat was unbearable. It licked at his skin, yet Purav stood in the inferno untouched—his body burning in fire, yet completely unharmed.
Madhav's eyes widened in horror.
Purav threw his head back and laughed, his voice blending with the crackling of the flames.
"Look at me, Madhav!" he shouted. " now I am fire resistant , It doesn't hurt me anymore!"
Purav grinned wickedly.
"This power… I got it by giving up my own left hand to demon." His voice dropped to a whisper, dripping with madness. "It's a small sacrifice… for something much greater."
Suddenly, the undead howled in unison, their bodies twisting unnaturally as the fire around them surged higher, hotter—
The entire house shook violently. The roof split apart.
A massive section of the house collapsed, sending debris crashing down.
Madhav shielded his face, coughing violently as thick smoke filled his lungs. His vision blurred, but through the swirling dust, he realized something—
The first-floor ground remained intact.
He was still standing. The structure had crumbled, yet a clear path remained between him and Purav.
And more importantly—the fire surrounding Purav had finally stop down.
Madhav's eyes narrowed. This was his chance.
Using the smoke as cover, he charged forward. Before Purav could react, Madhav leaped through the haze, grabbing his brother by the neck.
With a forceful tackle, they both crashed to the ground.
Purav struggled violently, but Madhav tightened his grip, twisting Purav's arm behind his back.
"I'm telling you one last time— end this, Bhaiya!" Madhav's voice was raw with emotion.
Purav thrashed, his expression twisted in anger. "You don't understand, Madhav! You never will!"
Madhav ignored his words.
His hand shot out, grabbing the small box from Purav's grip.
And then—
The undead shrieked.
Their decayed hands clawed toward him, their voices merging into a terrifying chant:
"DIE! DIE! DIE!"
Madhav's, grip on the box . He had to finish this.
His gaze dropped to the ground—there it was. The golden coin.
Without hesitation, he snatched it up, his fingers trembling.
As he stood, he could hear Purav behind him, scrambling to his feet.
"Give me my box back!" or that evil demon will do something to me." Purav roared.
Madhav ignored him.
Taking a deep breath, he raised the golden Curse coin . Just as he was about to place it inside the small box—
BANG!
A gunshot rang out.
Madhav's body froze.
Purav staggered backward, his eyes widening in shock.
A dark stain bloomed across his chest.
His mouth opened—but no words came out.
He fell to the ground.
As madhav watched, horrified, as Purav was struck by a gunshot. His big brother crumpled to the ground. "Purav!" Madhav cried, his voice thick with fear. He rushed to Purav's side. "Purav, look at me! Talk to me!"
Suddenly before Madhav could even process what had happened, a presence emerged.
A black, shifting mass of pure darkness, twisting and writhing like a living shadow.
It had no face, no form— evil demon, sucking in the light around it.
And then, it spoke.
"The offer was someone life."
If not your life, then I will take someone else's.
As Madhav heard the dark demon's words, a surge of anger flared within him. Without hesitation, he snapped the small box shut, and as the golden coin already inside.
The very moment the lid clicked into place—
The evil presence vanished.
The air, once thick with darkness and death, suddenly felt lighter. The swirling shadows dissipated into nothingness, leaving behind only the wreckage of the house and the lingering scent of smoke , few part of house now also Fire not stop and blood.
Madhav's breath came in ragged gasps. His entire body ached, burned, and trembled.
And then—
Through the haze of destruction, he noticed figures of some people moving outside the ruined house.
People. Armed men. Guns.
His instincts screamed at him to stay alert—but before he could react, he felt a weak tug on his hand.
Purav.
Madhav whipped around. His elder brother lay on the ground, his breath ragged and shallow. Blood seeped from his wound, staining the cracked floor beneath him.
Purav's fingers trembled as he gripped Madhav's wrist.
His eyes—once filled with madness—now held something else.
Regret.
In a soft, broken voice, Purav whispered, "At the end of my life… I finally realize… what I have done."
His grip tightened for a brief moment.
"I wanted to kill you, Madhav… but look at me now…"
Madhav's chest ached. His throat tightened.
"Big brother, don't say that! I'll take you to the hospital!" His voice shook with desperation.
But Purav only gave a weak smile.
A strange peacefulness settled on his face. His grip loosened.
And then— He went still.
Madhav felt his own eyes burning. The tears fell freely, rolling down his dirt-covered face as he clutched his brother's lifeless hand.
It was over.
Or so he thought—
Because suddenly—
A whisper echoed in his mind. A voice, not his own. You have obtained special power skills.
Madhav's breath caught.
1) Unconscious Skill.
2) Fire and Freeze Resistance Skill.
His eyes widened. But what did it mean?