Chapter 2: The Watcher in the Dark

Priya was driving her car on the same road, heading home. It was 9:30 PM.

She was on the phone with Prasad. “When are you coming home?”

“It will take me some time.”

“But it’s already 9:30 PM!”

“I’ll come home as soon as my work is done, okay?” He ended the call.

Priya spoke to herself, frustrated. “He’s always like this. He ignores me, he ignores Suman. I promised Suman we’d go out, but my husband won’t even listen to me.”

She was mid-sentence when a deer suddenly bounded across the road in front of her car and disappeared back into the forest. Priya slammed on the brake, her heart racing.

She stared, wide-eyed, at the empty road. It took a moment for her to process what she’d seen. Are there even deer in this forest? I never knew that.

She began to drive again, cautiously, arriving at the bungalow soon after.

“What is Suman doing?” she asked Ruchi.

“He’s asleep.”

“Did he eat?”

“Yes, Madam, he ate and went to sleep.”

“Alright, you can go home now.”

Ruchi hesitated. “Madam, if you don’t mind, could you do me a favor?”

“What is it?”

“Could you drop me off at the bus stop?”

“Why?”

“I’m very afraid to walk in the dark like this,” Ruchi said, hiding the real reason behind her fear.

Now, Priya and Ruchi were in the car, Ruchi staring anxiously out the window into the darkness.

“How is your mother’s health?” Priya asked.

“She’s fine, Madam,” Ruchi replied, her attention fixed on the woods.

Priya’s suspicion was piqued. “What’s wrong, Ruchi? What are you afraid of?”

Ruchi’s voice was shaky. “Madam, there is something in these woods. I’m scared to take this road every day.” She then added shyly, “Madam, could you please come home a little earlier tomorrow? So I can leave on time? My mother is alone at home.”

Priya, understanding her distress, said, “I was late today, I know. I’ll come earlier tomorrow. And Ruchi, wild animals have been seen on this road lately. Be careful when you walk.”

Ruchi gave Priya a long, meaningful look, saying nothing more.

They reached the bus stop. As Ruchi got out and closed the car door, she offered a warning. “Madam, please be careful on your way back.”

“My bus is here,” she said quickly, and hurried away.

Priya watched her go. Why is Ruchi behaving so strangely? Was it just an animal she saw?

Priya began driving back down the jungle road, now completely alone. The darkness was absolute; the only light came from her car's headlamps. The chirping of insects felt menacing. A low, creeping fear started to take hold. She instinctively pressed down on the accelerator, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Sweat began to film her neck and face. Her eyes, wide and focused, scanned the blackness ahead.

She reached her house. As she got out and locked the car door, she heard a soft noise coming from the forest opposite her gate. She froze, staring at the wall of trees. Silence. There was no movement. She turned to go inside, but then heard the strange sound again. She spun back around. Nothing.

Taking a huge, shuddering breath, her face now completely slick with sweat, she turned and rushed towards her front door. Just as she did, she felt something—or someone—whisper right next to her ear.

Her legs buckled in panic, and she fell heavily to the ground. She looked back immediately. No one was there. Scrambling to her feet, she fumbled with the key, flung the door open, and ran inside.

Gasping for breath, she cautiously peered out the side window. It was pitch black. But then, a light pierced the darkness. A car. That must be Prasad, she thought, sighing deeply in relief. Thank goodness.

She quickly opened the front door just as Prasad walked in. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him in a desperate embrace.

Prasad, bewildered, held her at arm’s length. “What are you doing by the door? Hey, why are you trembling? What happened?”

Priya hugged him tighter, her eyes squeezed shut, unable to speak.

“Tell me, what is wrong?” Prasad insisted.

“Nothing, dear. You must be hungry,” Priya said, trying to cover her fear.

Prasad didn't press the issue, sensing her agitation.

They sat down to dinner.

“What happened to you today?” Prasad asked. “So many emotional changes in one day.”

Priya spoke, her voice still trembling slightly. “We live in such a remote place. If anything happens to us, there’s no one to call. Surrounded by this jungle, I live in fear every day.”

Prasad frowned. “Why the sudden change? You were fine yesterday. Besides, this house came to us for free. Buying one in the village would cost a fortune, and the business is just breaking even—we haven’t seen major profits yet.”

“A small house is fine. We can adjust. And Suman is bored. He misses having other children to play with. He was complaining to me.”

“And what about our reputation? What will people say if we move from a big house to a small one?”

“Is that all that matters to you?” Priya shot back. “Do you know what he told me this morning? That you never spend time with him!”

“What did you tell him?”

“I managed it by saying you were busy with work. But we have to take him out this Sunday.”

“But the clients said they’re coming on Sunday,” Prasad protested.

“I don’t care about that. You are coming with us, or I’ll take him myself.” Priya stood up, her dinner unfinished. “I’m done eating.”

“Wait, listen to me!” Prasad called out, but Priya walked away, ignoring him completely.

Priya walked into Suman's bedroom. He was sleeping peacefully, an innocent contrast to the tension that permeated the rest of the house. She sat down beside him, tracing the fine, soft hair near his temple, a gentle smile replacing the anger and fear that had dominated her face earlier.

Prasad, who had followed her silently, stood framed in the doorway. "You fight with me, and then you show all your affection to him," he said, his voice low but tinged with hurt.

Priya looked up at him, a finger pressed to her lips. "Shhh. Be quiet."

Prasad approached slowly, lowering his voice further. "Why are you so suddenly angry with me? What changed?"

"The anger isn't directed at you or Suman," Priya admitted, her eyes returning to her son. "It's the fear. I feel this inexplicable dread being here. And tonight, on the way home, a deer suddenly darted across the road right in front of the car."

Prasad frowned, confused. "A deer? Here? I've never seen one."

"Well, I'm telling you I saw it," she insisted.

"Alright. So what do you want me to do?"

"Let's look for a new house," Priya pleaded, her voice cracking slightly. "I'm terrified that something bad is going to happen to him if we stay here."

"You're scaring yourself over nothing," Prasad said, trying to rationalize her panic. "Why are you borrowing trouble?"

"Then at least finish your work early and spend more time with us," she countered, shifting the argument.

Prasad sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know my situation, Priya. I didn't inherit this position. It was handed to me to manage. If I don't perform perfectly, they will replace me easily. Everything I've worked for, everything we've built, will be gone."

"You won't understand until it's too late," Priya said bitterly, standing up again. She left the room without waiting for a reply.

"Priya, try to understand my position too!" Prasad called after her, his plea hanging unanswered in the air.

The room settled back into silence. The only person left was Suman, sleeping soundly in the center of the bed.

Outside the window, unnoticed by the arguing parents, the figure was there.

It was the same strange silhouette Ruchi had glimpsed earlier, a dark, ill-defined shape staring in through the glass. It watched Suman with unwavering intensity.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the figure slid the window open, creating a thin, black fissure in the glass pane. It began to move. Its neck stretched, elongating unnaturally, followed by its upper body, reaching with a slow, disturbing fluidity toward the sleeping child. The grotesque elongation of the shape seemed silent, purposeful, drawn by the peaceful presence of Suman.

He lay perfectly still, breathing softly, completely oblivious to the silent, monstrous presence now hovering just inches above his bed.