The lane was dim and nearly deserted, the yellow streetlight flickering like a dying firefly.

A distant auto rumbled past before fading into the silence. Maya crouched near the side compound wall, her breath clouding in the cool air. Rachi stood beside her, nervously wringing her fingers.

"Sure this is the right time?" Rachi whispered.

Maya nodded without looking back.

"The guard leaves at exactly 10:30 p.m. for his tea. He'll be gone for at least twenty minutes. I've watched him for days."

Maya hoisted herself onto the ledge of the low side wall-chipped paint, rough concrete under her palms.

She swung one leg over, then the other, landing softly inside the compound. Rachi followed hesitantly, wincing as her shoes crunched on a dry leaf.

Both girls were dressed for stealth—black sweatshirts, fitted black pants, and dark shoes muffling their steps.

Their backpacks clung tight to their backs, packed with essentials—water, gloves, a flashlight, and Maya’s trusty multi-tool.

The building loomed before them, five stories of silent windows and darkened balconies.

They didn't head toward the front gate, where the main lock clanked loudly even when opened with a key.

Instead, Maya led her to the side-towards the old emergency staircase that curved up the back of the building.

A single bulb glowed weakly above the stairwell, casting shadows that stretched like arms along the damp walls.

They climbed, step by step. The stairs creaked faintly under their weight. Rachi kept glancing over her shoulder, as though fearing the shadows might move.

The fourth-floor landing had a half-broken nameplate hanging askew.

A few potted plants stood wilted near one of the doors. From somewhere inside a flat, a ceiling fan hummed dully.

They reached the third floor.

Maya paused, catching her breath as her eyes landed on the familiar white-painted door. A wooden nameplate hung above the doorbell: Priya Dey.

Rachi hesitated. "It feels strange... breaking into a her home."

Maya didn't respond. Her face was pale but set. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the newly made key - a near-perfect copy of the master key she'd secretly molded from the one on the guard's ring a week ago.

Her hand didn't shake as she slid the key into the lock.

Click.

Rachi stiffened beside her as Maya slowly turned the knob.

The door creaked open, and a musty wave of dust and decay wafted out, making both girls wrinkle their noses.

They stood at the threshold of the 2BHK flat, the air thick with silence and a lingering sadness.

The furniture stood like forgotten statues, each piece covered with thin white sheets that fluttered slightly in the breeze from the open window.

It was as if time had stopped the moment Priya disappeared.

The flat had been untouched for weeks, sealed after the police conducted their half-hearted investigation. Time had stopped here.

“Don’t switch on the lights,” Maya whispered.

“I wasn’t going to,” Rachi murmured, already reaching into her sling bag.

She fished out a small torch and clicked it on. A narrow beam of white light sliced through the blackness. Maya did the same. Their twin torchlights flickered against the walls like restless spirits.

They stepped inside cautiously and shut the door behind them with the softest push. The apartment embraced them in eerie silence.

A white sheet hung over the sofa, its fabric rippling faintly as their light passed over it—like a ghost startled in the dark.

The dining table stood still under a veil of dust. A spider had built its kingdom in one corner of the ceiling, its web glistening faintly under the torch.

Each of their footsteps sounded too sharp, too hollow, as if the apartment disapproved of their intrusion.

“It’s like walking through her memory,” Rachi said softly, eyes darting around.

“Then we better tread carefully,” Maya replied, her voice steady but quiet.

They split up silently.

Rachi veered toward the living room and kitchen, shining her torch into corners, over dusty shelves, and across the tops of cabinets.

She trailed her fingers along the edge of a table and came back with a thick coating of dust.

In the bedroom, Maya stepped carefully toward the wardrobe. Her light swept across the wall, lingering briefly on a cracked photo frame.

The glass was broken—probably from the police raid. Priya’s face smiled back at her from behind the crack, half-shadowed.

Maya looked away and focused on the cupboard. As she opened the doors, a gentle wave of a once-familiar scent escaped—Priya’s perfume, soft and floral, clinging to the fabric like a whisper from the past.

She hesitated for a moment, her torchlight hovering on the neat stack of clothes. Her fingers moved over the shelves, sliding between garments, feeling for something hidden—anything that the police might have missed.

Meanwhile, in the hall, Rachi carefully pulled the white cloth off a chair. A cloud of dust exploded into the air. She coughed, stepping back quickly and fumbling for her water bottle.

Maya appeared a moment later, offering her own bottle without a word. Rachi took it, still coughing into her sleeve.

“We need to hurry,” Maya said quietly, eyes alert. “We shouldn’t stay here for long.”

Rachi nodded. “Yeah. This place feels… like it’s watching us.”

Maya didn’t reply. Her torchlight moved to the wardrobe again.

The apartment was dark, but it wasn’t empty.

It was filled with silence, with memories.

With something unspoken.

And somewhere inside that silence—was a truth waiting to be uncovered.

Maya turned her torch toward the wardrobe once again, her other hand gently pushing aside a row of neatly folded sarees and old sweaters. The smell of naphthalene hung faintly in the air.

Her fingers paused at the back of the lowest shelf. Something felt… different.

She bent down, brushing aside a blanket to reveal a small metallic locker—half-concealed behind a stack of old blouses.

The paint on the lock had chipped away with time, but it was still firm. The keypad blinked dimly under the torchlight. A four-digit code was needed.

“Rachi,” she whispered urgently.

Rachi hurried over, her torch bobbing wildly. She knelt beside Maya, peering at the hidden safe.

“A locker? Do you think it’s ever been opened?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Maya murmured. “Not by the police, at least.”

She directed her torch beam carefully around the inside edges of the wardrobe, scanning every surface.

Dust swirled in the air. Then something caught her eye—a faint, almost invisible scratch on the inside panel of the drawer.

Four digits.

3 2 7 9

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Might be the code,” she said softly, fingers already moving to type it in.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Click.

The lock gave a soft mechanical sound and unlatched.

They both leaned in.

The locker wasn’t crammed full—just a few files, some folded papers, a cloth pouch, and a single envelope.

Most of it looked like random documents, maybe insurance or property-related. But Maya had a sharp eye. She flipped open the envelope.

Inside was an old, sepia-toned photograph.

A woman—elegant, with tired eyes—held a newborn baby close to her chest. Standing beside her was a teenage girl, smiling faintly…

Priya.

A much younger Priya.

Maya’s fingers froze on the edge of the photo. Her torch trembled slightly.

“This… this wasn’t just kept here. It was hidden,” she whispered.

“Why hide a photo?” Rachi asked, frowning.

“I don’t know. But someone went to lengths to keep it safe. If the police found the locker, they didn’t mention this. Maybe they missed it. Or maybe... someone didn’t want it found at all.”

She slipped the photograph into her bag, eyes still on the locker’s contents. Something about that picture made her skin crawl.

Was it the look in the mother’s eyes? Or the way Priya’s hand subtly gripped the edge of the woman’s saree?

Before she could ponder further, Rachi sighed beside her.

“There’s nothing else useful here. I’ve checked the drawers, the shelves, even behind the fridge. This whole place… it’s empty.”

“No,” Maya said softly. “It’s been emptied.”

Rachi pointed toward a dusty corner of the room. “Maya… what if we try the computer?”

An old desktop sat abandoned, a faded brown cloth thrown loosely over it. Cobwebs stretched between the monitor and a broken table lamp.

Maya walked over and pulled the cloth off carefully, sending a small cloud of dust swirling into the air.

Coughing, she pressed her hankerchief over her nose and pressed the CPU’s power button. To their surprise, it came alive with a groan.

The monitor flickered on, dim and flickery. The machine was sluggish, humming like a tired old man waking up from years of sleep.

No password. The desktop unlocked instantly.

A row of folders appeared:

Work Docs, Bills, Photos, Random, and Personal.

Maya clicked through each folder while balancing her small torch between her shoulder and cheek. Her black sleeves caught some of the dust as she leaned in. Inside were mostly dull files—scanned bills, work spreadsheets, and holiday photos.

“Looks routine,” she muttered.

“Try the Recycle Bin,” Rachi said, keeping an eye on the door.

Maya clicked it open. Empty.

She slumped slightly in the creaky chair. “Nothing useful. Maybe the police already cleared everything.”

“Wait… can you try restoring deleted files? You’re good at this stuff.”

Maya’s fingers snapped back to the keyboard. “I’ll try.”

She opened the command terminal and entered a line of code. A loading bar appeared.

They watched as the system began recovering files—images, documents, emails.

“There we go,” Maya murmured, hope rising.

But halfway through, a second window flashed open—unauthorized.

Files began vanishing. One by one.

“What the— No, no, no!” Maya whispered urgently. “They’re being wiped. Someone set an auto-delete!”

“What do you mean someone?” Rachi asked, dread creeping into her voice.

Before Maya could respond, her phone—resting on the desk—vibrated once.

A message notification.

She ignored it, her eyes darting between lines of code.

The light from the screen flashed briefly. Out of habit, Rachi leaned in, glancing at the notification bar. What she saw made her breath hitch.

Her face paled.

“Maya…” she whispered, voice uneven.

“Hmm?” Maya didn’t look up, still focused on the laptop. “I think I’m getting something—just give me a sec.”

But Rachi’s silence was loaded. Maya finally turned toward her. “What?”

Rachi hesitated.

Maya frowned.

“Rachi, what is it? You saw something on my phone?”

Rachi reluctantly picked it up, handed it over.

“I didn’t mean to look, but… read the message that came just now.”

Maya snatched the phone and unlocked it quickly.

And there it was.

My Siren,

I’ve missed you more than words can say. Every second without you has been a wound that refuses to heal.

But the wait is almost over.

When I finally get to hold you again, I won’t let go — not in this life, not in the next.

You’re mine. You always have been.

Stop playing detective, little flame. You're not meant to run, you're meant to belong. To me.

So be my good babygirl and stop digging into things you shouldn’t.

But if you still want to act like a little hero…

I hope neither of you plan to get caught —

Not just by the guards outside,

But by me.

As Maya’s eyes traced the last haunting line of the message, she felt her fingers tremble.

Her throat dried. Her heart began pounding against her ribcage, loud enough to drown out the silence between her and Rachi.

Rachi had already seen the message from the lockscreen and now stared at Maya in alarm. “Who is it?” she whispered.

“I—I don’t know,” Maya replied, voice shaky.

“There’s no name. Just an unknown number.”

A twisted feeling slithered in her gut—like someone had been watching them all this time. Someone who knew exactly what they were up to tonight.

Maya’s gaze snapped to the door as a noise echoed from the hallway.

Footsteps.

Heavy ones.

Then a man’s voice thundered—

“Who’s inside?!”

The sound of a baton dragging along the railing followed, and Maya’s panic flared.

“We need to go,” Rachi breathed, grabbing Maya’s wrist.

But Maya stood frozen for a second. Her mind raced. Who was this person? How did they know? Were they watching them right now?

Then the torchlight flashed against the window pane.

That was enough.

Maya came back to her senses.

They moved quickly now, working as a pair without speaking. Their black hoodies and backpacks helped them blend into the dimness of the apartment.

Another shout rang out. “Fast! I heard someone inside!”

Maya threw one last glance at the screen—at the unknown number, at the chilling words—and then shoved the phone into her pocket.

No time to feel fear. Not now.

They slipped through the narrow balcony, using the ladder. Her hands burned against the cold metal as they climbed down, but she didn’t stop.

They landed quietly into the garden patch behind the building, just as two guards burst into the flat above.

“Where did they go?!”

“I saw shadows!”

Maya and Rachi ducked behind a boundary wall, crouching low, breaths sharp and shallow.

For a moment, Maya dared to peek out from the side—and her stomach twisted again. The torch beams were spreading like searchlights. They had only seconds.

But then she looked at Rachi, equally scared, and something inside her hardened.

“We’re not giving up,” she whispered, almost to herself. “Not now.”

She ran.

With her black sweatshirt clinging to her back and the backpack bouncing against her spine, she clutched Rachi’s hand and darted into the dark alley behind the building.

Gravel crunched beneath their shoes. Leaves brushed past their shoulders. The torchlights behind them flickered wildly like angry eyes chasing shadows.

“Stop! Stop there!” a guard’s voice rang out.

Maya didn’t dare turn around.

Her breath came in sharp bursts, her lungs burning, but she didn’t slow down. The message still echoed in her mind like a curse.

When I finally get to hold you again, I won’t let go — not in this life, not in the next.

You’re mine. You always have been.

“Left!” Maya hissed as they reached the end of the alley.

Rachi didn’t question her. They veered into the narrow side path, heartbeats thundering like war drums. The sound of boots followed—closer now.

Torchlight skimmed the wall beside them.

They reached a locked gate. Rachi looked at Maya, breathless. “We’re trapped.”

“No,” Maya said, voice hard. “Climb.”

She dropped her bag, hoisted herself up the metal lattice, ignoring the way it rattled beneath her grip. Her fingers were scraped, her knee hit the edge, but she didn’t stop.

The fear crawling through her bones was no longer just fear. It was fury. She wasn’t going to be caught like some helpless girl. Not by whoever sent that message. Not tonight.

Rachi followed, gasping, struggling—but Maya reached down and yanked her up with all her strength.

They jumped.

Thud.

They landed on the other side, nearly stumbling, but Maya caught her balance. The building security guards were just behind the wall now. Their flashlights flashed over the gate but couldn’t follow.

Maya grabbed her bag, and the two of them vanished into the darkness once more—this time, toward the construction site next to the colony.

Their clothes were dusty. Palms scraped. Breathing ragged.

But they were alive.

For now.

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The narrow lane stretched endlessly ahead, dimly lit by a flickering streetlamp at the far end.

The air was damp and smelled of metal and dust. With their black sweatshirts clinging to their skin and lungs aching from the chase, Maya and Rachi stumbled into the deserted passage, their footsteps echoing eerily on the concrete.

Both girls were panting hard, their legs trembling from exhaustion.

Suddenly—

A faint whisper. Then another.

Maya froze. She shot her arm across Rachi’s chest, signaling her to stop and be silent.

Eyes alert, heart thudding in her ears, Maya inched toward the edge of a crumbling brick wall that bordered the passage.

Carefully, she peeked.

What she saw drained the color from her face.

Just across the wall, in a dim clearing illuminated by a broken halogen light, a tall man was stabbing someone with terrifying brutality—again and again, without a flicker of hesitation or mercy.

Blood stained the ground. Around him stood a circle of shadowy men, watching without emotion.

A gang.

Rachi gasped and before she could stop herself, a short scream escaped her throat.

Maya reacted instantly, clamping her hand over Rachi’s mouth, eyes wide in horror.

But it was too late.

The tall man lifted his head.

“Someone’s there!”

A growl.

Then a louder command—“Everyone! Catch them and bring them here!”

There was no time to think. Maya yanked Rachi’s hand and ran, hard.

They bolted down the narrow lane, hearts pounding like war drums.

Shouts erupted behind them—heavy boots scraping concrete, a pack of predators chasing their prey.

Their faces were covered, so the gang hadn’t seen who they were. But the scream… it had given them away.

“They’re girls! Don’t let them escape!”

Somewhere in the chaos of broken lanes, old gates, and twisted turns, Maya and Rachi’s paths parted.

They didn’t even notice.

Maya turned left. Rachi turned right—both blindly seeking escape.

When Rachi realized Maya was no longer beside her, her panic nearly swallowed her. But there was no time to cry out. The footsteps were getting closer.

She spotted a narrow, half-open storage room—its door rusted and old. Without a second thought, she slipped inside, pulled the door shut, and backed into a corner.

Darkness swallowed her.

She pressed her hand over her mouth, stifling her ragged breaths, willing her body to stop trembling. Her chest ached with the need to sob—but she held it back.

Outside—

“Did you find that girl?”

“No, Boss. She disappeared.”

“Tch. Let's move out. Check the other lane.”

Rachi waited. Frozen.

Only when silence returned did she lower her hand, her breaths still shallow, her eyes glassy.

She whispered a silent prayer.

For Maya.

To be safe.

To still be running.

Because out there in the night, they were hunted—and alone.

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“Hey! Search this place. That girl’s hiding here somewhere!”

The shout cut through the silent night like a knife.

Maya crouched low behind the enormous, twisted trunk of an ancient tree, her heart slamming against her ribs.

Her chest heaved with every breath she struggled to contain. Sweat trickled down her forehead, stinging her eyes.

Her back was pressed so hard against the bark that its rough surface bit into her skin — but she didn’t move. Couldn’t.

Snap. Crunch. Crunch.

Footsteps.

Coming closer.

Moonlight flickered through the treetops, casting long, ghostly shadows that danced and shifted with every breeze.

The air was thick with the scent of moss, damp soil, and the undeniable stench of fear.

“She’s nearby. I can feel it,” came another voice — low, cold, confident.

Boots crushed dried leaves with brutal precision. A matchstick flared somewhere.

For a split second, the orange flame lit a man’s scarred face. Then darkness returned, more suffocating than ever.

Maya tried to move deeper into the shadows, every fiber of her being screaming to survive.

But fate betrayed her.

Her foot slipped.

In a blink, she was tumbling down a hidden slope, her body tossed like a ragdoll — dry branches snapping against her limbs, her breath stolen by the fall.

CRACK!

Her forehead collided with a jagged rock. Pain exploded behind her eyes. Blood burst forth, warm and sticky, tracing a crimson path down her face.

She gasped once. Shuddered.

Then fell still.

Somewhere above her, the footsteps stopped.

“Wait. Did you hear that?”

The sound of leaves rustling. The faint echo of her fall.

“Check that side!”

A flashlight beam sliced through the darkness — sweeping dangerously close. For a second, it flickered over Maya’s motionless body… but missed.

She lay there — half-hidden behind a clump of thorns, her blood blending with the forest floor.

Her eyes fluttered weakly.

A distant whisper echoed in her mind.

“My Siren… I’m going to find you.”

A twisted smirk curled on someone’s lips in the shadows.

And then—

A boot stepped into frame. Just inches from her face.

The screen fades to black.

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𝙏𝙊 𝘽𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙐𝙀𝘿..