Standing in front of Sangini was Pradip.
The moment she saw him, she felt a wave of relief wash over her.
"Pradip-da! You scared me," Sangini said, letting out a long breath.
Pradip gave her a strange smile and replied,
"Why? Did you think I'd leave you all alone?"
For some reason, Sangini felt that something was different about him. His voice sounded different. The way he spoke felt different.
Yet when she looked at him, he appeared exactly the same as always.
Pradip smiled again and said,
"I couldn't leave you by yourself. I was worried."
This time Sangini was completely bewildered.
"Worried? You were worried about leaving me alone? Why?"
Pradip laughed softly once more.
"Because I love you. I want to keep you close to me."
Then his expression darkened slightly.
"What if something happened to you? What if you died? Then..."
"Alright, forget all that," Pradip said.
"Do you know, you came to me in a dream last night? In the dream, you came to my house and hugged me. Then this morning you told me you had never come at all—that it had all been a dream."
He sighed.
"That hurt more than I expected. So I thought... maybe I shouldn't keep hiding my feelings anymore. That's why I came looking for you. When I saw that you seemed frightened, I hurried over. But then you started walking faster and faster."
He laughed softly.
"Why are you so scared? Do you think I'm going to hurt you?"
Although Sangini felt uneasy because of the strange way Pradip was speaking, his confession stirred a confusing mixture of emotions inside her. Her heart began to race, and she found herself unsure of what to think.
Suddenly, Pradip stepped forward and embraced her.
The unexpected gesture left Sangini startled and uncertain. She did not know how she should react. She was already running late for school, and she worried that her teacher might scold her for arriving late.
For a moment, she simply stood there, trying to make sense of the situation and of the emotions that were swirling around her.
Everything felt confusing, and she did not know what to do next.
**R18 part will be placed in next chapter**
As they melted into each other behind the gnarled old tree, naked and gasping, her fingers raked across Pradeep's neck. She meant to pull him closer, to claw at him in raw lust. Instead, the skin tore too easily—peeling away like wet cloth.
A sick, wet ripping sound filled the night.
Beneath the skin was not flesh. There was only a hollow, gaping absence where a face should have been. A dark, sucking void ringed by jagged remnants of muscle. Thick, dark blood and foul, yellowish-white pus oozed slowly from the hole, dripping onto her breasts with soft, obscene plops.
If anyone could have seen it in four dimensions, they would have understood instantly: this thing was the same as the one that had come to her weeks ago. The one she had married. The same empty, devouring face.
But she didn't understand. Not yet.
A sudden, violent spasm ripped through her belly. She looked down in horror as her stomach began to swell at an unnatural speed—rising, stretching, ballooning like a grotesque pregnancy accelerated by months in seconds. The skin pulled so tight it turned shiny and translucent. Veins pulsed black beneath the surface. She could feel something moving inside her, kicking, writhing, tearing.
She screamed.
The pain was beyond anything human. It felt like her organs were being rearranged by clawed hands. Blood gushed between her thighs in thick, steaming ropes, splattering the dry grass. Her legs shook uncontrollably. She clawed at her own belly, desperate to make it stop, but the thing inside only grew stronger, pushing outward.
Then came the final, wet tearing sound.
A single, piercing shriek tore from her throat—raw, animal, final.
And then… silence.
---
Some time later, from the far edge of the moonlit field, a figure emerged.
It looked exactly like her.
Same hair. Same swaying walk. Same soft curves that Pradeep had loved. But if you looked closely—very closely—you would notice that the skin around her neck hung slightly loose, like a poorly fitted mask. A little wrinkled. A little slack.
As if it had just been pulled on.
And in the darkness behind her, something wet and faceless dragged the two empty human skins deeper into the trees, leaving long, bloody trails in the grass.
But it seemed that the curse had no intention of ending there.
Something strange happened to Pradip as well.
After taking a bath, Pradip entered the prayer room. He had already finished offering food to the deity. All that remained was to light the oil lamp, wave the incense, ring the bell, and leave.
He struck a flame and lit the sacred lamp.
A moment later, the flame went out.
There was no wind.
The room was stiflingly hot and completely still.
Yet it felt as though someone had deliberately extinguished the lamp.
Pradip lit it again.
The same thing happened.
Again and again, every time he lit the lamp, something seemed to put it out.
After repeating this ten or twelve times, the flame suddenly burst to life with a loud whoosh.
And then something far more terrifying happened.
The moment the lamp ignited, the fire flared up with unnatural force. Flames spread throughout the prayer room in an instant.
Within moments, the fire had leapt from the shrine and engulfed the entire house.
Pradip tried to run outside.
But it felt as though something was holding his legs in place.
No matter how hard he struggled, he could not move.
Then he saw her.
The woman.
She looked somewhat like his mother, yet she was not his mother.
It was that same grotesque figure.
That same twisted body.
But now it appeared heavily decayed, as though time itself had ravaged it.
Terror gripped Pradip.
He wanted to flee.
He desperately tried to escape the burning room, but he could not.
The flames were closing in around him.
Then, suddenly—
Another Pradip stepped out from the burning house.
This Pradip was not the same one who had been trapped inside.
The original Pradip had been surrounded by flames.
Yet this one emerged untouched.
There was not a single burn mark on his clothes or body.
In fact, the fire itself seemed afraid of him.
The flames recoiled as he approached, retreating little by little, as though they were trying to say:
"Do not come near me."
"Stay away."
"Stay far away from me."
Askra had been admitted to the village hospital in a deep coma.
At night, the old building was nearly deserted. Only a single dim bulb flickered in the corridor. No one noticed when the figure rose from the bed and slipped out through the back door.
It wore Askra's face, but the resemblance was dying.
The eyes burned with a cold, unnatural white glow — no pupils, no soul, just twin dead moons. Patches of hair had fallen out in clumps, revealing pale, rotting scalp beneath. The skin looked loose in places, as if it no longer fit properly. Long, blackened fingernails curved like claws that had grown unchecked for decades.
The thing that was no longer Askra moved silently through the sleeping village.
It stopped in front of a small house on the outskirts. The door was unlocked. It stepped inside.
In the inner room, a young woman lay sleeping on a thin mattress. She was barely nineteen, beautiful in that quiet, untouched village way. Askra had known her once — she had been his neighbor years ago. Her name was Rina.
The creature approached the bed without a sound.
Then it attacked.