A few moments later, Kunal's eyes snapped open.
The demon was gone.
He lay still for a second, expecting pain—expecting agony—but there was nothing. No torn flesh. No burning wounds. Even his back, which had been shattered moments ago, felt whole.
He slowly rose to his feet and looked at himself in disbelief. Not a single injury remained.
His grip tightened around his sword.
When I killed it… why did it smile?
The memory surfaced like poison in his veins.
Did it heal me? But why? It was trying to kill me…
He checked his watch. The fading light told him everything.
"Nightfall is close… and the cub is still inside the mansion. I need to hurry."
He scanned the floor again. Nothing. No trace of the book.
Grinding his teeth, he climbed the stairs.
The first floor was vast—unnaturally vast—but completely empty. No rooms. No furniture. Nothing but hollow silence.
He went up another level.
This floor had only one door.
It was massive.
On its surface, carved in ancient letters, was a single word:
Library.
"Maybe it's here…"
He pushed the door open.
Thousands of books.
Shelves towering to the ceiling. Countless volumes scattered across the floor—torn, ancient, rotting with age.
"This is impossible… How am I supposed to find it here?"
He searched. Shelf after shelf. Piles of dust and paper.
Nothing.
At the far end of the room, something caught his eye.
A painting.
He walked toward it slowly.
It depicted multiple gods, gathered together, blessing a single human. The man held a sword in his hand. Behind him, countless people knelt on one knee, heads bowed in reverence.
Below the painting stood a table.
On it rested two bowls.
One was engraved with the words: Blood of Art.
The other: Art of Ruin Metal.
Kunal tried to lift them.
They didn't move.
Not even an inch.
He pulled harder.
Nothing.
"Are these glued down too…?"
Frustrated, he pulled out the slip of paper again.
Book Number: 375
Shelf Number: 195
Code Number: 276
He searched again.
Still nothing.
Anger boiled over.
"I risked my life for this useless thing… and there's nothing here!"
He crushed the slip in his fist and threw it to the ground.
But something strange happened.
As the paper crossed his knee, it fell… through something invisible.
Like it had passed through a hidden wall.
Kunal froze.
"What…?"
He slowly bent down and reached his hand toward the same spot.
Everything looked normal.
He lowered his head further.
And the world changed.
From that angle, it was as if he was looking into a different dimension.
Moments ago, books had been scattered across the floor—torn and ruined. But now…
Not a single book lay on the ground.
Every shelf was perfectly arranged.
Clean. Ordered. Untouched.
He slowly sat down and picked up the slip again.
He checked the numbers.
This was the shelf.
The exact one.
Heart pounding, he walked forward.
There it was.
The book.
The same one.
As he reached out to pull it from the shelf—
Silence.
An unnatural, suffocating silence swallowed the entire room.
Kunal could hear his own heartbeat echoing inside his skull.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
His vision began to blur.
And then—
The visions struck.
He saw the mansion.
Someone was rushing out of the ritual room. Moving fast. Descending into the basement. Crossing the tunnel.
Climbing the stairs.
Heading toward this very room.
The door burst open violently.
And the figure stepped inside.
It was coming closer.
Closer.
And now—
Kunal saw himself.
Sitting on the floor.
Staring forward.
Watching something.
Or… someone.
Or himself.
The approaching figure lifted a spear.
It aimed directly at the seated Kunal.
About to strike.
Suddenly—
The vision shattered.
Kunal jolted backward violently, scrambling away.
There was no one in the room.
No sound.
Nothing.
His heart was racing uncontrollably. His eyes were wide. Sweat rolled down his face. His body trembled. His breathing turned ragged.
"Calm down… calm down…"
He forced himself to stand.
And then—
A hand burst out from beneath the floor.
The entire ground shook violently.
Before he could react—
The hand grabbed his leg.
Hard.
And pulled...
© Kunal Singh
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