The alley was silent now, save for the faint crackle of a shattered streetlamp. The ox spirit's remnants lingered as ash, swirling in the cold air like black snow. Maya sat slumped against a graffiti-stained wall, her hands trembling as she stared at the burn marks on her jacket. Momo crouched beside her, eyes scanning the darkness for movement. The Lakhey was gone, but its sulfurous stench clung to the air.
Bishnu Dai emerged from the shadows, his usual gruffness replaced by a grim weariness. "You girls shouldn't be here," he muttered, kicking aside a twisted chain link from the ox's binds. "Not after what you've seen."
Momo's voice wavered. "What was that thing? Why did it attack her?"
The old man knelt, his joints creaking. "Because she's a bridge. Always has been."
He spoke quietly, the words heavy.
"This world isn't just ours. It's layered—like pages in a book. Most never see beyond the first. But some are born with the sight. Bloodlines. Or traumas. Or… contradictions." His gaze settled on Maya. "Your parents. One from mountain tribes who spoke to the wind, the other from ancient city-dwellers who bargained with shadows. Their worlds collided in you. Made you a beacon."
Maya hugged her knees. "So the ox…?"
"A parasite. Drawn to your clashing aura. It feeds on regret, guilt—the rot in a soul. Once it latches, it devours you slowly. Unless something stronger intervenes."
"The Lakhey," Momo said.
"A spirit of transaction. They act only for payment. This time, it was your voucher. Next time?" He shook his head. "It'll cost more."
"What stops them from just… eating us?" Momo asked, eyeing a stock boy who suspiciously resembled the ox spirit.
"Balance. The Between has rules. Spirits need anchors to meddle here—gifts, grudges, grocery vouchers." He glared at Momo. "Which reminds me—never haggle with a Lakhey. That 5,000-rupee coupon? It's probably buying hellfire toilet paper right now."
Maya's fists clenched. "How do we stop this?"
Bishnu Dai's eyes darkened. "You don't. Not alone. The ox was just the first. Now that you've seen the Between, it's seen you. More will come."
He pulled a folded pamphlet from his coat—yellowed paper stamped with a sigil resembling interlocked serpents.
"There's a place. A school. They train those cursed with the sight to defend themselves. To sever spirits, break binds. To survive. They Train tantrikas—spirit-whisperers. They've been cleaning up mortal messes since… well, since mortals started making messes."
Minutes pass, the after effects and the residue of what happened seemed to slowly loose it's initial chaotic and fictional element.
"A magic school?" Momo groaned. "We failed anthropology. You think we can pass exorcism?"
"This has been their purpose for centuries," Bishnu Dai answered. "To balance the scales between our world and the Between. You'll learn rituals, wards. Or you'll die. Tibet's ngagpas, Nepal's dyahmis, They all serve the same purpose"
Momo studied the pamphlet. "Why us?"
"Because you paid a Lakhey with a supermarket voucher and lived. That's either luck or fate. Either way, it's a thread they'll tug."
"And you ", Bishnu Dai's tone lowers as he points to Maya,
"You got the blood. Newari father, Tibetan mother—two cultures steeped in the Between. Their worlds clash in you, kid. Makes your aura… sparkly. Like a disco ball for hungry ghosts."
Momo snorted. "So the ox spirit was haunting her because she's… ethnic?"
"Because she's a buffet," Bishnu Dai corrected. "Spirits sniff out conflicted souls. That ox? A karma-leech. Feeds on regret. And you two?" He gestured to their failed exam receipts crumpled in Momo's pocket. "All-you-can-eat."
Maya stood abruptly, her voice brittle. "What if we refuse? Burn this and walk away?"
The old man's laugh was hollow. "The Between doesn't forgive debts. That ox was a scavenger. Next time, it'll be a hunter. And it won't stop until your light's snuffed out."
A cold wind stirred the ash at their feet. Somewhere in the distance, a dog howled—a sound too raw, too human.
"What if we ignore this? Pretend it's… a weird dream?"
Above them, a streetlamp flickered. Shadows pooled too thickly at its base.
Bishnu Dai lit a cigarette. "The Between doesn't do ignore. You're on the menu now, kid. School's your only shot at flipping the table."
A cold wind stirred the ash at their feet. Somewhere in the distance, a dog howled—a sound too raw, too human.
Maya stared at her phone. A notification blinked: "Lalitpur High: Academy of Tantric Arts – Enrollment Open!"
She showed Momo.
"Yeah, we're cooked!"
As they turned to leave, Bishnu Dai gripped Momo's arm. "One more thing. That voucher you gave the Lakhey? It wasn't yours to offer. Spirits keep ledgers. It'll come to collect what's owed."
As The girls breathing slowed, the weight of the old man's warning settling like stone. Behind them, the alley seemed to breathe, shadows pooling where the ox had fallen.