Tuesday Morning
Parth didn't sleep after what happened.
He sat on his bed until sunrise, body stiff, thoughts racing, heart thrumming to a rhythm older than his own life. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the danava's claws. Every breath he took felt like it wasn't his.
When the sun finally bled through the curtains, it didn't bring peace. Just more questions.
And the worst part?
No one remembered a girl going missing.
No alarm. No investigation. No whispers over morning tea.
Nothing.
The day went on like it was any other Tuesday.
---
In Class
"Parth?"
His head snapped up. The professor—Dr. Sinha—was staring at him.
"You've been staring at the same paragraph for fifteen minutes," she said. "Are you alright?"
He opened his mouth. Closed it.
Aarav covered for him. "Ma'am, he pulled an all-nighter. Must be the new pharmacology module.It's killing all of us ma'am."
Dr. Sinha sighed and moved on.
Neel passed him a note.
You saw it too, didn't you?
Parth turned slowly. Neel's eyes didn't waver.
He wrote back: Yes.
Neel nodded. Then, in the margin, drew something.
It was rough, but unmistakable.
The danava.
---
Between classes, Parth pulled Neel aside.
"How do you know?"
"I don't," Neel said. "But I dream things. Not always clear. Mostly wrong. But last night… I saw a shadow with horns. I saw you. I saw her."
Parth's throat tightened. "Then where is she now?"
Neel looked away. "Gone. Like the others."
"What others?"
Neel didn't answer. Instead, he said, "You're not the only one remembering, Parth."
He took out a folded paper from his bag—aged, browned at the edges. A torn script, maybe from a temple archive.
On it: symbols, a rough sketch of the danava's kind. Not just one. Many.
Neel whispered, "They've been returning. Slowly. Quietly. Feeding on forgotten names."
Parth stared at the script.
"I don't remember this," he said.
Neel met his gaze. "Not yet."
---
The Bell That Doesn't Ring
Later that evening, Aarav joined them at the library.
"You know the old temple near the railway tracks?" he asked. "The one no one really goes to?"
Parth nodded.
"I passed it today. Weird thing is—there's a bell there. Huge. Always used to ring with the 6 PM train. Every day. I've heard it since first day."
Parth leaned in. "And?"
"It didn't ring today."
They looked at each other.
Silence was no longer just absence. It was a sign.
---
Meanwhile
Somewhere beneath the soil of an old shrine, vines withered.
A cracked idol's eyes glowed faintly.
A whisper stirred the dust:
"Remember us."
And far, far away, a white horse whinnied at the darkening horizon.