Aarav had always heard rumors about the abandoned forest temple near his village, a place where no one dared to enter after sunset. Locals whispered that a daiyan, a witch-like spirit, performed nightly rituals there. One evening, driven by curiosity and disbelief, Aarav decided to uncover the truth himself.
With only a torch in his hand, he reached the old temple. The air felt unusually cold, and a strange humming echoed from inside. As he stepped closer, he saw symbols drawn on the ground—fresh, glowing faintly in the dark. Suddenly, the wind stopped. Silence swallowed the place.
Then he saw her.
A tall, twisted figure draped in black stood before the altar. Her long hair touched the ground, and her face was covered, but her hollow whisper reached him, “You should not have come.”
Aarav froze as she turned. Her face had no eyes—only dark, endless sockets. The shadows behind her began to move like living creatures, crawling toward him. He tried to run, but his legs wouldn’t obey.
The last thing he remembered was her cold breath on his neck.
The villagers later found his torch near the temple—still on, still warm—
but Aarav was never seen again










.png)
