The House Chapter 4 - The Fate

  Harish and Chandini stood in the darkened room, their breaths ragged and hearts pounding. The muffled screams of Rajesh, now silenced, echoed in their minds. The room was dust-covered trinkets, and a faint odor of decay.

  They could hear the creatures outside, scratching at the door and emitting low, guttural growls. Chandini wiped her tears with a trembling hand. “What do we do now, Harish? We can’t stay here forever.” Harish, equally shaken but trying to remain composed.

   That moment they hear a laugh of someone from the room. As they turn over, they saw an old woman sitting facing the wall. Harish and Chandini stood frozen, their eyes wide with shock and fear. The old woman’s laugh was a chilling contrast to the growls and scratching at the door. She sat facing the wall, her back hunched, her gray hair tangled and matted. Her laugh was eerie, filled with a sinister glee that sent shivers down their spines.

  “Who… who are you?” Chandini managed to stammer, her voice barely above a whisper. The old woman slowly turned her head, revealing a face lined with deep wrinkles and eyes that glinted with a disturbing mix of madness and amusement. “Ah, finally, more guests,” she crooned, her voice raspy and unnervingly calm. “Asking the owner, who am I?”

  Harish and Chandini exchanged a bewildered glance. “The owner?” Harish echoed, his voice barely steady. “Amirthavalli?”

  The old woman’s smile widened, showing yellowed teeth. “Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “Yes, I am Amirthavalli, the owner of this wretched place. Welcome to my humble abode.”

  Chandini took a step back, her hand instinctively gripping Harish’s arm. “What do you want from us? Why are you killing our colleagues?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady despite the terror coursing through her veins.

 Amirthavalli’s laughter echoed around the room, a sound that seemed to come from the very walls themselves. “Killing?” she repeated, shaking her head slowly. “No, my dear. I am not killing them. I am making them my humble servants.”

  Harish and Chandini exchanged a horrified glance. “Servants?” Harish echoed, his voice barely a whisper.

  “Yes,” Amirthavalli said, her eyes gleaming with a mix of madness and satisfaction. “Many years ago, I was wronged by the villagers, driven by fear and the influence of King Rajadhipathi and that Biritsh officer. They were feared and had respect for them and sought to appease them by sacrificing me. If that day I had authority and had that same respect, today everything changed. So on that night, as they took my life, I performed a ritual that bound my soul to this house. Those who enter become part of the house, my servants in death as they were in life. Even the demon, black figure and the reanimated all of them were living beings once.”

  Chandini’s eyes widened in realization. “Our colleagues… they’re dead?”

  “Precisely,” Amirthavalli crooned, her voice filled with dark delight. “They serve me now, as will you. This house is my domain, and everyone who enters is bound to it. Your friends are already part of my collection. And now, it is your turn.”

  Harish’s mind raced as he tried to comprehend the horror of what she was saying. “You can’t do this,” he said, his voice shaking. “We won’t become your servants.”

  Amirthavalli’s smile never wavered. “You have no choice,” she said simply. “The moment you stepped into this house, your fate was sealed. Now, you will join the others, bound to this place for eternity.”

  Chandini’s heart pounded as she looked at Harish, desperation in her eyes. “There has to be a way out of this,” she pleaded. Amirthavalli shook her head slowly. “There is no escape,” she said. “You belong to the house now.”

   The creatures outside the door seemed to sense the conclusion of their conversation, their growls growing louder and more insistent. Harish and Chandini could feel the weight of their impending doom pressing down on them.

  Amirthavalli’s smile twisted into a sinister grin as she watched the terror unfold on Harish and Chandini’s faces. “Don’t fear the creatures,” she said with a chilling calmness. “They will not kill you. They are merely the heralds of your fate. I will handle you myself. It’s been years since I have done this with my own hands.”

  Harish and Chandini felt a renewed wave of dread as Amirthavalli stood up slowly, her movements deliberate and unnervingly fluid for someone who appeared so aged and frail. Her eyes never left theirs, and the room seemed to darken further, and started slowly fogging around.

  Harish and Chandini felt the fog envelop them, growing denser with each passing moment. They clung to each other, their hands interlocked as they moved backward, but the thickening mist was relentless. Within seconds, the fog became so dense that they could no longer see their own hands in front of their faces.

  “Chandini, stay close!” Harish shouted, his voice muffled by the swirling fog. He tightened his grip on her hand, but the cold, clammy mist seemed to have a life of its own. It seeped between their fingers, prying them apart with an almost supernatural force.

  “Harish! I can’t see you!” Chandini’s voice was tinged with panic as she felt his hand slip from hers. She reached out blindly, her fingers grasping at nothing but the thick, damp air. The fog grew colder, and a sense of isolation and dread washed over her.

  Harish, now separated from Chandini, stumbled through the fog, his heart racing. “Chandini! Where are you?” he called out, but his voice seemed to vanish into the mist. He could hear her faint replies, but they sounded distant, as if she were miles away.

   Amirthavalli’s laughter echoed through the fog, a haunting sound that sent chills down their spines. Chandini felt a cold hand grasp her shoulder. She spun around, but saw nothing in the thick fog. “Harish?” she whispered, hoping against hope that it was him. But the grip tightened, and she knew it wasn’t Harish.

  The grip dragged her into the fog. Her screams echoed through the dense mist, reaching Harish’s ears. He called her name, but he couldn’t see anything, just the impenetrable fog.

  After what felt like an eternity, the fog began to thin. Harish’s vision slowly cleared, revealing the ghastly scene before him. Amirthavalli stood beside a blood-soaked Chandini, her lifeless body sprawled on the floor. Blood pooled around her, forming a dark, crimson puddle that inched its way across the floor toward Harish’s feet.

  Harish’s breath caught in his throat as the reality of the scene sank in. The blood, warm and sticky, touched his feet, sending a shiver up his spine. Amirthavalli’s smile was one of twisted satisfaction as she looked at Harish.

  “She resisted,” Amirthavalli said calmly, her eyes gleaming with malevolence. “But in the end, they all succumb.” Harish’s mind raced. The sight of Chandini’s lifeless body fueled a fire within him. Desperation and anger surged through his veins, mixing with the overwhelming sense of fear.

  “You... you monster,” he whispered, his voice trembling with rage. “You won’t get away with this.”

   Amirthavalli’s laughter filled the room once more, a chilling sound that reverberated off the walls. “That will be also seen,” she replied, her tone dripping with mockery.

   As the fog began to close in again, Harish knew he had to act quickly. There had to be a way to escape this house of horrors. But with Amirthavalli’s malevolent presence looming over him, time was running out.

  Harish saw a window in the room. Without a second thought, he dashed toward it, the fog parting just enough for him to see his escape route. He crashed through the window, shards of glass slicing into his skin as he fell from the considerable height. The impact with the ground was brutal, sending a sharp pain through his legs as they twisted unnaturally upon landing. Thorns from the overgrown garden pierced his flesh, but he didn’t stop. Limping and bleeding, Harish pushed forward, driven by sheer will to survive.

  But the house seemed to have a malevolent will of its own. As Harish stumbled through the underbrush, something unseen tangled around his legs, pulling him down with a violent yank. He cried out as he fell onto a broken tree branch, the jagged wood piercing through his body. The pain was excruciating, and he felt his life ebbing away with each passing second.

  As he lay there, helpless and bleeding out, Harish’s vision began to blur. He could hear the distant, haunting laughter of Amirthavalli echoing through the night. His breaths grew shallow, and darkness began to close in. Just before he lost consciousness, he felt a cold hand grasp his ankle, dragging him back toward the house.

  The last thing Harish saw was the looming silhouette of the house against the moonlit sky, its windows like eyes watching his every move. He was powerless to resist as he was pulled back into the cursed abode, becoming yet another victim of Amirthavalli’s wrath.

  And so, the house claimed another soul. Harish’s lifeless body was dragged back inside, the door closing behind him with a final, ominous thud. The house standing silent and foreboding, a timeless prison for those who dared to enter.