Chapter 1: The Whispers and the Woods

The fog lay thick and low, muffling the world into a palette of gray, making the path ahead indistinct and perilous. On either side, the dense jungle pressed in—a wall of black and green, yielding only to the narrow, isolated road.

But a short distance away, the world was alive, clustered around a bustling vegetable market. The cacophony of vendors hawking their produce, the cries of buyers haggling, and the endless churn of people filled the air.

Near a stack of bright red tomatoes, two women stood, their heads close, their voices dropping to conspiratorial whispers.

“Look over there, isn’t that her? The one who works at the bungalow far out in the woods?”

“It is. That’s definitely her.”

“What was her name again?”

“Ruchi, dear. The daughter of that Padma Raju who ran off.”

“Ah, yes! The one who eloped with another woman. That man…”

“That’s his daughter, she’s the one.”

The venomous gossip was audible to Ruchi, yet she went on with her shopping, forcing a small, tight knot of tears back down her throat. Their words were a familiar, searing brand.

The whispers continued, sharper this time.

“How her poor mother endures such shame, I’ll never know.”

“True. But Ruchi, she lives well enough. Working for the head of a cotton business—that’s no small feat. I wonder how much she earns.”

“And who is to say she earns it rightfully? No matter how much she makes, the way she gets it might not be through the proper channels.”

Ruchi couldn’t bear another word. Clutching her bag of vegetables, she turned and walked away, the market's noise fading as she re-entered the quiet, judgmental air of the street.

The tears she had swallowed rose again, spilling silently down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the end of her scarf, but they wouldn't stop, fueled by the relentless echo of their cruel comments. Shame. Wrongfully. Elope.

Her path soon led her to the inevitable. The road narrowed into a ribbon of asphalt flanked entirely by the deep, intimidating jungle—her daily route. It was a path that made most people shudder, yet for Ruchi, it was the only way home.

She began to walk, her steps hesitant. Even after traversing this route countless times, the fear was a cold, constant companion. Her palms were slick with nervous sweat.

As she moved deeper into the woods, her small keypad phone vibrated. It was her mother.

“Have you just woken up, dear? I left food for you on the table. It might be cold by now, warm it up and eat. I will try my best to get home a little earlier today.”

Ruchi spoke into the phone, her focus entirely on her mother’s voice, which was why she failed to notice the subtle movement—a disturbance in the thicket beside the road.

Still talking, she reached the gate of the large bungalow, set like a grand, isolated jewel in the heart of the surrounding wilderness.

“No one would ever guess there was such a beautiful, sprawling house here, surrounded by nothing but the jungle,” Ruchi remarked to her mother.

Suddenly, her mother’s voice fractured over the line. “Mother? Amma, can you hear me?”

Ruchi checked the phone, frustrated. “Why does the signal always fail right here?”

From inside the house, the clear, high sound of a child’s laughter drifted out. In the absolute silence of the woods, any noise carried with unnerving clarity.

Ruchi opened the large front door and paused, a small smile touching her lips at the scene before her. Priya, the lady of the house, was desperately trying to feed her son, Suman. The boy, still in his school uniform shirt—two buttons undone—but wearing only his underwear instead of his school trousers, was refusing to eat. He was giggling, running around and thoroughly exhausting his mother.

“Ruchi Akka is here!” Suman shouted, spotting her at the door.

Priya let out a heavy sigh, breathing deeply. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here. I can’t get a single bite into him. Please, you feed him. I need to get ready for work, I’m running late.”

Suman’s smile vanished. “Play with me, Amma. I promise I’ll eat this time.”

“I can’t, Suman,” Priya said, her voice strained. “Don’t make a fuss, eat quickly. You’ll be late for school.”

Suman slumped into a pout. Ruchi knew the situation well. How could Suman understand his parents’ burdens? she thought. They’re so busy with their work. Even if she can’t be with him 24 hours a day, she should spend quality time with him when she can.

Just then, Prasad, Suman’s father and the head of the cotton business, rushed out, phone pressed to his ear, clearly preoccupied with an urgent work call. He barely glanced at his son. Suman watched his father leave, but Prasad drove off without acknowledging him.

Priya emerged from a side room, fastening a cuff. “Haven’t you got him ready yet? He’s clearly not going to eat. Just get him into his school clothes.”

Later, driving Suman to school, Priya spoke sternly. “No naughtiness like you just did at home. Behave nicely. And be careful on the bus after school. Ruchi Akka will meet you and bring you home.”

Suman, still wearing his stubborn pout, asked, “Why don’t you ever come in the evening?”

“I have a lot of work, sweetie. A lot of work.”

“Daddy never talks to me anymore,” Suman said quietly.

Priya quickly covered for her husband. “That’s not true. He’s just very busy lately, that’s all.”

They reached the school. Suman trudged gloomily toward the gate. Noticing his sad posture, Priya called out, “Hey, look at me! It’s been ages since we did something fun. We’ll go out this Sunday, okay?”

Suman’s face instantly lit up. “Okay!” he cried, skipping happily into the school.

Priya watched him go, a pang of guilt hitting her. He feels so lonely. She immediately called Prasad, her frustration boiling over.

“Why do you have to make an issue out of this?” Prasad snapped. “You said we’d go out, so we will. Now, I have work. I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up.

Prasad, the owner of the largest cotton business in the village, commanded respect but also resentment. Even now, amidst the whirring of looms and the scent of raw cotton, employees whispered.

“This man works us to the bone. Does he think we have to stay here just because he doesn’t want to go home?” one muttered.

“It's not even his inheritance,” another replied, lowering his voice further.

“What do you mean?”

“The previous owner just vanished. Prasad stepped in to manage the business. The owner never came back. And Prasad never stepped down.”

“Seriously?”

“What do you think? He used his new position to get his wife a good job, too.”

“What a lucky break.”

“Luck runs out. Once something happens to him, someone else will take his place. We’ll just have to wait and see who that will be.”

“It definitely won't be us.”

A strong wind rustled the trees; the sound was the only thing audible on the isolated road leading to the bungalow. Inside, Ruchi was working hard, cleaning the vast house. Sweat beaded on her forehead. The cold air against the sweat was a brief relief, and she closed her eyes, savoring the cool breeze.

When she opened them, she saw it: a shape at the window, like a silhouette of a person. She jumped back in fright. After a moment, she looked closer. It was just the shadow of a tree, distorted by the angle.

She quickly shut the window and resumed her work, though her heart was still hammering.

At the school, Suman was ignoring the teacher’s lecture, deep in discussion with his friends, Ramesh and Suresh, about yesterday’s Kho Kho game.

“Ramesh, our team won yesterday. We have to win today, too,” Suman insisted.

“Yes, we must win today and make them buy us samosas!” Suresh agreed enthusiastically.

Ramesh looked glum. “But one samosa from them is never enough for me.”

“Listen, Ramesh,” Suman said, “I’ll give you my samosa too, but you have to play brilliantly.”

“Okay!”

“Yes!”

“We’ll win!”

“Suman! Ramesh! Suresh! Get out of the class and stand outside!” the teacher barked.

The three boys stood outside in silence for a few minutes, which soon gave way to a quiet argument.

“We’re out here because of you,” Suresh accused Ramesh.

“But you were shouting too!” Ramesh protested.

“You shouted the loudest, Suresh!” Suman chimed in.

“Well, you shouted too!” Suresh shot back.

“No, I was just whispering! You were yelling!” Suman argued.

Their arguing only escalated until the teacher reappeared. “Silence! Are you making noise even out here?”

“Teacher, please tell us who shouted the loudest,” Ramesh pleaded.

Suman and Suresh also turned to her, eager to know. “Tell us, Teacher, it wasn’t me, was it?” Suman asked. “The whole discussion started because of Suman, Teacher!” Suresh insisted.

The teacher glared at them, then returned inside to continue the lesson. The boys were left to do their punishment: kneeling down with their hands up.

Back at the bungalow, Ruchi’s phone rang on the glass table. No one was there to answer it. It rang again. This time, Ruchi rushed to pick it up.

“Tell me, Amma.”

“Ruchi, your voice is breaking. Wait, let me go outside and talk,” Ruchi said, locking the back door and heading toward the garden. “Yes, speak now, Amma.”

Her mother’s voice was sharper now. “Ruchini, why does your phone always have problems whenever I call?”

“The signal is poor inside the bungalow, so I have to come outside to talk.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m just leaving to pick up Suman. It’s time for him to come home from school.”

“Why do you go all the way out there alone? Can’t you find a job closer to home?”

Ruchi’s voice hardened. “After the disgrace your husband brought upon us, no one will hire me. Like it or not, this is the only job I have. Priya Madam was kind enough to take me in, even knowing what people say about me. Besides, no one else would pay me this much.”

“So, you’re blaming me?”

“Whether it’s your fault or not, I’m the one who suffers. I have no respect outside because of him. Please, I have reached the bus stop now. I’ll call you later,” Ruchi said, hanging up.

“Why are you crying, Ramesh?” Suman asked his friend.

Ramesh was weeping softly. “I didn’t get an extra samosa this time.”

“We would have gotten samosas if we had won,” Suresh pointed out.

Ramesh cried harder. “Suman promised me an extra samosa, was that why we had to lose?”

“If we win tomorrow, I’ll definitely give you an extra samosa,” Suman promised.

“But this is my stop,” Suman said, getting off the bus.

Ruchi noticed Suman’s dejected face. “What happened? Why do you look so glum?”

“We lost the Kho Kho match,” Suman replied sadly.

They walked along the winding road through the jungle, their voices the only sound in the deep silence.

“We tried so hard, but we couldn’t win,” Suman sighed. “And Ramesh is upset because he didn’t get any samosas.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll win tomorrow,” Ruchi assured him.

“Really?”

“Really.”

The sounds of their voices and laughter echoed in the silent forest. Ruchi, however, was filled with a growing sense of dread. She felt a movement in the woods around them. Her eyes widened, reddening with panic. Sweat beaded heavily on her brow, and her hands began to tremble.

Suman noticed her fear. “Ruchi Akka, what’s wrong? Your hands are so sweaty and shaking.”

Ruchi’s response was rushed and terrified. “N-nothing. We need to hurry home.” She gripped his hand and pulled him along, increasing her pace.

The movement in the trees seemed to quicken with her steps. As they reached the house, Ruchi was almost sprinting. She unlocked the door, pushed Suman inside, and slammed the door shut, locking it with frantic haste.

Suman was confused. “Ruchi Akka, what is it? What are you scared of?” He then walked to the window. “What did Ruchi Akka see outside that made her so afraid?”

He peered into the dark woods. He saw something move in the trees opposite the house, but couldn’t make it out clearly. Unfazed, he shrugged. “Probably just some animal. I wonder what kind it was, though.”

Priya was the head of the stitching department, and the air was filled with the rhythmic whirring of sewing machines. Her sharp voice cut through the noise. She was scolding an employee.

“Is this how you stitch? How many times do I have to tell you people? You’ve ruined these clothes! You’re wasting material every day! If you can’t do the job properly, then leave!”

The employees nearby whispered amongst themselves.

“Look at her arrogance,” one said.

“She thinks she’s queen now that she’s the owner’s wife,” another scoffed.

“And if her husband hadn’t taken over the cotton business, she wouldn’t even be here!”

“But why does she treat us like this?”

Priya fired the woman she had been scolding. “Go! And don’t mess up another piece, or I’ll cut your salary!”

She checked her watch, grabbed her bag in a rush, and left.

“See,” the gossiping employees said, watching her hurry out, “we toil here, and she gets to leave right on time.”

“It’s all pride because of her position over us.”

“Exactly.”

“Ruchi Akka, come out and play. You’ve been behaving strangely since you came back. Come out, Akka,” Suman called, knocking on the bathroom door.

Inside, Ruchi was silent, sitting rigidly on the closed toilet seat. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face and body drenched in sweat. Her hands were still trembling as she desperately tried to recall what she had seen.

As they walked through the woods, she had noticed the movement in the bushes. The fear mounting, she had cautiously peered into the dark foliage.

She saw a strange, silhouetted figure. Its eyes glowed like embers, but she could not make out its face. She had broken into a run, frantically trying to escape the unseen presence in the trees.