Everyone had retired for the day.
The faint sound of the ceiling fan in Rudra's room and the occasional rustle of the wind outside were the only noises.
"____"
Rudra stirred from his sleep,
blinking against the dim moonlight spilling through the curtains.
He reached for the water bottle beside his bed and took a few slow gulps.
As he set it down, a sudden ding-dong echoed through the hallway.
Ding... Dong...
His eyes snapped toward the door.
The bell rang again.
'Who's here at this hour…?'
He grabbed a shirt and slipped it over his shoulders as he stepped out into the corridor.
The wooden floor creaked gently under his feet as he made his way downstairs.
The entire lobby was dark except for the faint glow of the front desk light.
Reaching the main door, he leaned toward the peephole.
His brows lifted slightly.
An old man stood there, hunched slightly with age, a woollen muffler wrapped tightly around his neck.
He clutched a suitcase in one hand and a cloth bag in the other, his expression difficult to make out from the distorted lens, but he looked calm… and patient.
Rudra unlocked the latch with a soft click and cracked the door open cautiously.
Click~ Creak~
"Good evening,"
The old man said in a voice that was both gentle and gravelly with age.
"Apologies for arriving this late. I… didn't expect the bus to be this delayed."
Rudra blinked.
"Uh, it's alright. You're looking for a room?"
"Yes, if that's possible,"
The man said with a tired nod.
"Just for the night."
Rudra stepped aside to let him in.
"Come in. You're lucky we're newly opened—there are rooms available."
As the old man stepped over the threshold, Rudra's eyes flicked to the luggage.
Something about him felt… ordinary.
But the way the silence wrapped around him as he entered the lobby made Rudra to frown.
He shook the thought off.
"Please wait here. I'll get the reception desk logged in,"
Rudra said, heading behind the counter and flicking on a few more lights.
The old man simply stood there, taking in the interior quietly, his eyes sweeping across the room like someone who had been here before.
Rudra sat behind the reception desk, flipping open the old registration ledger while the computer booted up.
The old man gave his name as "Mr. Krishnan" and handed over an ID without hesitation.
Everything about him was calm—
too calm.
Rudra copied the details with practised ease and handed over the room key.
"Room H-1, second floor. Let us know if you need anything."
Mr. Krishnan offered a quiet nod, took the key, and started toward the staircase, his slow, deliberate footsteps echoing across the wooden floor.
Rudra let out a breath and turned to shut the register when—flick—a flash of red caught the corner of his eye.
He froze.
One of the decorative lamps near the old bookshelf… glowed red.
Not the soft amber glow it usually cast.
Red. A dull, slow pulse like a warning.
That's where the hidden door to the surveillance and archives room is...
Then—
bzzz bzzz bzzz—
His phone vibrated violently on the desk.
Rudra grabbed it.
It was a system notification.
[Surveillance Alert: Movement Detected – Sector C – Anomaly Registered at 12:11 AM]
His pulse quickened.
'Sector C… That's near the staircase Mr. Krishnan just took.'
The app loaded the most recent feed—
grainy night vision from a hidden corner camera.
Rudra watched as Mr. Krishnan passed by the lens.
But just as he moved into the frame, the image shimmered.
For a brief second—
less than a blink—
His reflection in a nearby mirror didn't match his movements.
It just stood there.
Staring.
Rudra's breath caught in his throat.
He slowly rose to his feet, eyes never leaving the screen.
The red glow from the lamp still pulsed behind him.
Something was off.
Something he couldn't explain with logic,
But his instincts screamed danger.
He locked the front door, double-checked it out of instinct, and made his way toward the hidden surveillance room to investigate further.
The dim corridor behind the old bookshelf creaked as Rudra stepped into the hidden surveillance room.
The moment he plucked the glowing bulb from the red-lit lamp outside, the concealed door slid open with a soft mechanical hum.
Stepping inside, he placed the bulb into the vacant socket in the lamp mounted within the room—
click.
Thud.
The hidden door sealed itself behind him.
The space inside was compact but well-equipped—
Rows of monitors, enchanted and tech hybrids, flickered softly, showing various camera angles of the inn and surrounding roads.
The room buzzed faintly, old circuitry working in tandem.
But Rudra's eyes locked onto one monitor in particular.
Camera 7 –
Street Behind The Highland Leaf.
The feed had frozen—
not in a glitch, but like time itself had been suspended.
Onscreen stood Mr. Krishnan, the very same old man he had checked in moments ago.
Frozen mid-step.
Mid-blink.
Like a statue.
Rudra's fingers flew over the controls.
He rewound the footage slowly, frame by frame.
11:58 PM – Nothing.
11:59 PM – The street was empty. Quiet.
12:00 AM – A faint ripple.
Then suddenly, as if reality warped—
Snap.
The shadow appeared.
Before even a hint of Mr. Krishnan's figure formed, an elongated, twisted silhouette flickered into view.
It stretched across the pavement unnaturally—
inhuman in shape.
Two long, curved horns.
A slender, towering body with arms too long, fingers like hooked blades.
Its presence distorted the air around it like heat waves on asphalt.
No face—
only glowing pinpoints where eyes should be.
And then… Mr. Krishnan appeared in the centre of the street, stepping forward from thin air.
As though birthed by the shadow.
Rudra's breath caught in shock.
"____"
He paused the feed and leaned in, eyes narrowing.
There was something wrong with the shadow.
Not just its shape—
But the aura it left behind on the screen.
Like a stain burned into film.
"What… in the name of god is that?"
Rudra whispered to himself.
He leaned back, mind racing.
First, the old woman's warning.
Now this.
The rumours about this place being haunted might not be entirely false.
But this wasn't just a ghost—
This was something else.
Something darker.
Something possibly tied to the misuse of Astra.
Or it might not be a human but something else.
He stood up, pushing the chair back gently, and looked around the surveillance room.
There were more files here—
old ones.
Blueprints, purchase logs, and sealed boxes that Guru Arvind had yet to mention.
Rudra had only one thought in his mind.
'Whatever this place is hiding… I need to find out fast.'
Rudra sat in the worn swivel chair, leaning forward, his elbows on the table, fingers steepled against his lips.
His eyes, bloodshot now, refused to blink.
The screen labelled
"H-1: Corridor Feed"
showed a still image of the door to Room H-1—the one the old man had entered hours ago.
Nothing.
No movement. No shadows.
No sound.
Rudra tapped a key and rewound the feed to the moment the old man entered the room.
He watched it again. And again.
Each time, he noticed the same thing:
The lights near Room H-1 flickered. Twice.
And for a split second, as the door creaked open, the shadow that entered seemed… longer than the man's frame.
Taller. Like something else had slipped in behind him.
He paused the frame. Zoomed in.
The shadow at the threshold curled inward, as if it had claws.
The warm rays of the early morning sun filtered gently through the sheer curtains of the reception hall.
The quiet was interrupted by the sound of a lamp being twisted back into place.
From behind the bookshelf in the far corner, the hidden mechanism clicked, and a section of the wall creaked open.
Rudra emerged slowly, his steps heavy and slow, his usually sharp eyes dull and ringed with dark, heavy circles.
He looked like someone who had spent an entire night wrestling with ghosts—
Perhaps he had.
Dragging his feet toward the reception desk, Rudra sank into the chair and leaned back, letting out a long breath as he closed his eyes.
Sigh~
"____"
He ran his fingers through his hair before pressing them against his temples, trying to ease the dull throb in his skull.
Moments later, the clink of bangles echoed softly from the hallway.
Amirtha appeared, her saree neatly draped and her hair tied back.
She blinked, confused at the sight of Rudra's dishevelled state.
She approached the reception, one eyebrow arched in concern.
"Rudra?"
She asked cautiously, walking closer.
"What happened to you? Did you not sleep at all?"
Rudra slowly opened one eye, the corner of his lips twitching into a tired half-smile.
"I… forgot,"
He muttered, voice low and scratchy.
"Had something on my mind."
Amirtha crossed her arms.
"What do you mean you forgot to sleep? What were you doing all night?"
Rudra glanced toward the staircase—
The path leading to the guest rooms—
particularly Room H-1.
He didn't reply immediately.
Instead, he raised a hand and rubbed his temples, as though the answer itself gave him a headache.
Then, without looking at her, he said in a gravelly voice:
"I'll explain everything in a bit… but first, please—tea. Strong one."
Amirtha frowned deeper but nodded.
Nod~
"Okay, wait here."
As she walked off to prepare the tea, Rudra's eyes lingered on the stairs.
There was still no sound. No movement.
The guest in Room H-1 had been quiet for too long.
Rudra leaned back in the chair, eyes half-closed, fingers digging into his temples as he tried to ease the persistent throb in his head.
Creak~
The soft creak of the entrance door echoed as Cook Malla arrived, offering a cheerful nod before heading toward the kitchen.
One by one, the other workers trickled in, their chatter and footsteps filling the once-quiet inn with the energy of a new day.
A moment later, the sound of quick steps echoed down the staircase.
Junoo, dressed crisply in her receptionist uniform with her hair tied into a neat ponytail, descended with her usual bounce.
She froze halfway down the steps upon seeing Rudra slouched at the reception desk.
She narrowed her eyes, then hurried toward him.
"Whoa, Rudra, did someone punch you in the face last night? What's with the zombie look?"
Rudra let out a small groan, not even looking up.
"I forgot to sleep."
He mumbled.
Junoo blinked.
"You forgot?"
Before she could dig further,
Amirtha returned from the kitchen carrying a tray with three steaming cups of tea.
She handed one to Rudra, who accepted it gratefully, then passed the others to Junoo and herself.
Taking a long sip, Rudra finally let out a quiet sigh, the warmth giving him brief relief.
Sigh~
"____"
The scent of masala tea mingled with the early stirrings of breakfast preparations from the kitchen.
As the inn began to wake up properly, Amirtha took a seat near Rudra.
After a moment of comfortable silence, she looked at him curiously.
"Rudra,"
She began,
"I've been meaning to ask you something. Have you thought of your vigilante identity yet?"
Rudra raised an eyebrow, blinking the sleep from his eyes.
"My what?"
"Your identity,"
Amirtha clarified.
"As the Brahmansh in charge of this sector, you'll be expected to take action when danger arises. But, like the others, you'll need a masked identity—something that separates your public face from your real role."
Junoo leaned forward, intrigued.
"You mean like the old stories? The 'Masked Wind', or 'The Crimson Blade'?"
Amirtha nodded.
"Exactly. These aren't just costumes—they become symbols. Names people can rally behind. Each Brahmansh chooses one for their sector. Those who follow and train under them eventually carry the same identity… turning it into a legacy. A movement."
Rudra exhaled, leaning back in the chair, tea warming his hands.
"A name that becomes a group…"
He echoed, thoughtful.
"I never really thought about it before. Guru Arvind didn't mention this."
"He wouldn't,"
Amirtha replied softly.
"He wanted you to grow into it, not be forced into a mould."
Junoo smirked.
Smirk~
"So, what's it gonna be? 'The Sleep-Deprived Saviour'? 'The Tea Knight'? Come on, we need something cooler."
Rudra chuckled tiredly, sipping his tea.
Chuckle~
But deep in his mind, he couldn't help but glance again toward the staircase—
toward Room H-1.
Cool names could wait.
As the day stretched on,
Guests who had come for the serene escape and the attractive opening offers slowly started checking out, one after another.
Laughter faded, footsteps echoed across the tiled floors, and the occasional thank-you and goodbye echoed in the reception hall as vacationers resumed their journeys.
The restaurant bustled briefly with the breakfast rush,
but now it too began to settle, the air filled with the comforting scent of freshly cleaned linens and leftover spices.
At last, the moment Rudra had been waiting for came.
The old man—
the same mysterious guest who had checked in late at night—
descended the stairs with a slow, steady gait, suitcase in hand, muffler still tightly wrapped around his neck despite the mild Ooty weather.
His face remained unreadable, eyes cast downward as he made his way to the reception desk.
Rudra, who had taken position behind the counter earlier with sharp eyes and a neutral expression, watched silently as the man approached.
Without saying much, the old man placed the room key on the counter and paid the bill in cash.
No complaints. No small talk.
Not even a goodbye.
Then, suitcase in hand, he turned and walked out the doors of The Highland Leaf, disappearing into the late morning fog that curled around the distant hills.
Rudra's gaze remained fixed on the entrance even after the man had left.
He said nothing.
"____"
"____"
But in the silence that followed, a flicker of unease passed through him once again.
Rudra let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding.
Sigh~
His eyes lingered on the misty path outside for a moment longer before he turned around and walked back behind the counter.
Amirtha was sipping the tea while Junoo sat cross-legged on a chair by the reception, lazily sipping her tea.
"Alright,"
Rudra said, rubbing the back of his neck.
His voice was low but steady.
"Now that he's gone… I can finally tell you both what happened last night."
Junoo perked up immediately.
"So, something did happen? I knew it! You looked like a zombie this morning."
Amirtha's eyes narrowed with concern.
She placed the teacup aside and stepped closer,
"What's going on, Rudra?"
Rudra leaned on the counter, lowering his voice even further.
"That old man... he wasn't normal. When he rang the bell at midnight, I went to the door like any other guest. He looked old, tired, a bit stiff maybe. But something about him didn't sit right with me."
He paused, glancing around to ensure no one else was nearby.
"I got a signal from the surveillance room, and I checked the surveillance after letting him in."
Rudra continued.
"And what I saw... shook me."
Junoo leaned forward.
"Wait—what do you mean?"
Rudra looked at them both, eyes serious.
"He appeared out of nowhere. One second the road's empty, and the next—bam—he's there. But before he appeared… There was a shadow."
"____"
"____"
Amirtha frowned.
Frown~
"A shadow?"
"Yeah,"
Rudra nodded.
"Not human. Slender, tall, horns. Like something stepped through reality in disguise as the old man."
Silence fell between the three.
Rudra crossed his arms.
"I didn't say anything until now because I didn't want to risk the old man overhearing us or sensing something was off. We don't know what he is, or what he wanted. And I wasn't going to poke the snake before knowing where its fangs were."
Junoo's teasing nature was nowhere in sight now.
She sat stiff, the cup in her hand cooling rapidly.
Amirtha exhaled slowly.
"Did you check his room?"
After hearing Rudra's description, Amirtha asked him in a serious tone, but Rudra shook his head, telling the old man had left just now and had not come out of the room for the whole night.
Which Rudra could use to check his room.
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************
(Author's POV)
(A/N):
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review!!! And power stone!!!
Which will motivate me more.