CHAPTER ONE: THE WELCOME
The sign stood crooked at the edge of the mountain road. Welcome to Rajapur. Most of the white paint had peeled away years ago, leaving rust beneath the fading evening light.
One corner of the metal sign hung lower than the other, as if the mountain itself had grown tired of holding it up. Arun slowed his SUV and looked through the windshield.
There was nothing remarkable about the village. No abandoned houses, no mist crawling between the trees, and no bodies hanging from branches. Just a narrow road disappearing beneath enormous sal trees.
A few old stone houses stood beneath the dark outline of the mountains. Arun picked up his camera and turned it toward himself.
"Okay," he said, forcing a smile. "Rajapur. Population... honestly, I have no idea."
He laughed quietly, but the camera was still recording. That had become a habit lately—record everything, even silence. Especially silence.
At twenty-two, Arun had built his YouTube channel, Unmasking Myths, around one simple idea: Every legend has an explanation.
Ghosts were tricks of light. Haunted houses were abandoned buildings with bad acoustics. Possessions were usually psychological, and monsters were simply stories people told when they didn't understand something.
His subscribers had loved that confidence. Then the numbers began falling, and the same confidence started feeling more like pressure.
Three hundred thousand subscribers had once felt enormous. Now, every time Arun opened his analytics, he found himself staring at the same question: Why are people leaving?
His last four investigations had performed badly. His newest video had barely crossed twenty thousand views—a number that would have made him celebrate two years ago.
Rajapur was supposed to change that. The story had everything he needed: a remote village, an ancient forest, a ruined temple, and a legend about something called the Blood Moon.
According to the oldest stories, whenever the moon turned red, creatures known as Rakshasas emerged from ruins hidden deep inside the forest. People disappeared, livestock were found torn apart, and sometimes a stranger simply vanished.
No body. No belongings. Nothing. Arun had laughed when he first heard the story because every isolated village seemed to have one.
Every mountain had a demon, and every abandoned temple had something supposedly waiting inside. But that was three weeks ago. Now, as Arun stepped out of the SUV, he didn't feel like laughing.
The forest was too quiet. There were no birds, no insects, and not even the distant bark of a dog. The silence didn't feel peaceful.
It felt deliberate. Arun switched on his camera and looked toward the darkening forest.
"Rajapur," he whispered. "This is either going to be the best video I've made in months... or a complete waste of a weekend."
A voice answered from behind him.
"You should not stay outside after sunset."
Arun turned and found an elderly man standing beside the road. He had white hair, a thin frame, and simple cream-colored clothes, with a wooden walking stick resting against one shoulder.
His face carried the kind of warmth that made Arun relax almost immediately. "You must be Arun."
Arun lowered the camera. "Pandit ji?"
The old man smiled and extended his hand. "Raghav. I am the village head."
They shook hands, and Arun noticed something strange. Raghav's palm was not cool from the evening air. It was cold.
Not cool. Cold. Arun noticed it, but decided not to say anything.
"I called yesterday," Arun said. "About the guesthouse."
"Yes." Raghav glanced toward the forest, then looked up at the sky. "You came later than expected."
"Roads were terrible."
Raghav nodded. "They always are."
Arun smiled and looked around. "You've got a pretty isolated place here."
"That is why people like it."
"People?"
For a moment, Raghav said nothing. Then he smiled again.
"Not many people."
Arun lifted his camera. "Would you mind saying something for the vlog?"
Raghav chuckled. "You came here to investigate our stories."
"That's the plan."
"Then you will have plenty to record."
They walked into the village. The houses were small, built from stone, mud, and weathered timber, but several doors were already closed even though the sun had not completely disappeared.
A woman carrying a metal bucket saw Arun and suddenly stopped. Their eyes met for a moment before her expression changed.
She hurried inside and shut the door. Arun glanced at Raghav.
"Do I make people nervous?"
"No." Raghav kept walking. "They are nervous about the moon."
Arun looked up. A faint red glow had begun spreading beneath the clouds.
"Tonight?"
Raghav nodded. "Full Blood Moon?"
"Tonight."
Arun smiled. "Perfect."
Raghav stopped walking and looked at him for several seconds.
Then he said quietly, "That is not the word I would use."
At the edge of the village stood a small guesthouse. Beyond it was the forest, with the trees beginning less than fifty yards from the back door.
Raghav handed Arun an old brass key. "You will stay here."
Arun looked at the building. "Alone?"
"Yes."
"Closest neighbor?"
Raghav pointed toward the village. "Five minutes."
Arun looked toward the trees. "And the forest?"
Raghav looked behind him. "Your backyard."
Arun laughed. "That's reassuring."
Raghav didn't laugh. Instead, he stepped closer and lowered his voice.
"If you hear anything tonight..."
Arun waited.
"Do not answer it."
"A person?"
"Anything."
Raghav's voice became even quieter. "Especially if it calls your name."
A strange silence passed between them. Then Raghav smiled again.
"Rest before midnight."
He turned and walked away. Arun watched him disappear between the houses before looking back toward the forest.
Something moved between the trees. Arun immediately raised the camera, but there was nothing there.
Only darkness. He lowered the camera and shook his head.
"Great. Definitely not creepy."
Behind him, somewhere deep inside the forest, something knocked three times against wood.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Arun froze and slowly turned toward the sound. Nothing moved between the trees.
He waited for another sound, but the forest remained completely still. Finally, he laughed quietly.
"Wind."
But there was no wind.
❖❖❖
CHAPTER TWO: THE THING IN THE TREES
At 11:34 PM, Arun stood in front of the guesthouse mirror with a camera strapped to his chest and another in his right hand.
A thermal monitor was clipped to his belt, a flashlight was attached to his vest, and a drone controller hung around his neck.
He looked less like a paranormal investigator and more like someone preparing for war. Arun looked into the camera.
"Okay. Midnight investigation. Which is exactly the kind of thing responsible adults don't do."
He smiled, but the joke sounded forced. He knew it, and so did the silence outside.
For the last twenty minutes, Arun had been listening to the world outside. Nothing had changed, and that bothered him more than the legend.
He had grown up around cities—traffic, construction, air conditioners, and dogs barking at three in the morning.
Silence like this didn't feel natural. It felt manufactured.
He opened the door, and cold air touched his face. The village was completely dark.
Every window was shut, every door was locked, and not one porch light remained on. Arun stepped outside.
"Guys," he whispered into the microphone, "if you're watching this later, please understand something."
He glanced toward the village. "No one here thinks I'm funny."
Then he started walking. The forest waited ahead, darker than it had looked in the evening.
When Arun reached the tree line, his phone vibrated. He pulled it out and saw two words.
NO SIGNAL.
He frowned and held the phone higher, but nothing changed. "That's new."
He slipped it into his pocket and launched the drone. The machine rose above the trees with a soft mechanical hum.
Arun watched the live feed on his tablet as the forest appeared in shades of gray and black.
He moved the camera toward the mountains, and then he saw it.
Between the trees stood the ruins—an enormous stone structure half-swallowed by vegetation.
Arun zoomed in. "Got you."
He guided the drone closer, but the image suddenly shook. Static appeared across the screen.
"Come on."
The static grew heavier before suddenly clearing. For less than a second, Arun saw something standing beside the temple.
It looked human, but it was tall. Too tall.
Arun froze as the image flickered again. The figure was gone.
He rewound the feed, but the image showed nothing. He played it again and caught the shape once more.
Maybe it was a tree. Maybe it was a person. Arun zoomed in, and the picture became distorted.
He switched to thermal. The ruins were almost completely cold, but several heat signatures surrounded the temple.
Arun stared at the screen. One. Two. Three. Four.
Then he saw a fifth.
The figures were moving slowly, but something about them was wrong. They were too large to be human.
Nearly eight feet tall, and they weren't moving like animals. They were simply standing there.
Watching.
One of them suddenly turned toward the drone. Arun instinctively stepped backward.
The figure was looking directly into the camera. It shouldn't have known where the drone was.
The drone was hundreds of feet above the forest, yet the creature seemed to be staring straight at it.
Then it moved.
Not forward. Up.
It climbed the temple wall like a person walking vertically across stone. Arun couldn't move.
The drone feed filled with static, and a wet, heavy crunch came through the speaker.
SIGNAL LOST.
Arun stood there for several seconds before whispering, "Okay. That wasn't a glitch."
Something cracked behind him. Arun spun around and aimed his flashlight between the trees.
Nothing. He listened again, but the forest gave him no answer.
When he turned back toward the tablet, the screen was still black. Then his chest camera made a sound.
RECORDING INTERRUPTED.
Arun looked down. "Why?" The red recording light had gone off.
He pressed the button once, then again. Nothing happened until the camera suddenly restarted.
Static filled the screen for a second. Then one line of text appeared.
DON'T GO TO THE TEMPLE.
Arun stared at it. His camera didn't even have a text function.
He slowly looked toward the forest. Somewhere beyond those trees was the temple.
He should have gone back. A normal person would have gone back.
But Arun had built his entire life around walking toward things other people ran from.
He tightened his grip on the flashlight. "Let's see what you are."
Then he stepped into the forest.
Rajapur hides a secret among the living—but in Naraka, there are secrets waiting for the dead.
❖❖❖
CHAPTER THREE: THE RITUAL
The deeper Arun went, the colder it became. His flashlight beam seemed smaller with every step as branches scraped against his jacket and roots caught at his boots.
Yet something was wrong. Nothing moved.
No animals ran from him, and no insects buzzed near his ears. It was as if every living thing had already left the forest.
Arun checked the thermal monitor. The temperature had dropped nearly twelve degrees.
He stopped. "That's not possible."
His breath appeared in front of his face. He moved forward anyway, and soon the ruins emerged from the trees.
They were much larger than they had looked from above. Broken pillars surrounded an open courtyard, while ancient carvings covered the remaining walls.
Some carvings looked like animals. Others looked almost human.
Then Arun saw the altar. It stood in the center of the courtyard, made of black stone and covered in cracks.
Resting on top of it was a crystal roughly the size of a human heart.
It was deep red, but it wasn't reflecting the moonlight. It was producing its own.
Pulse. Pause. Pulse. Pause.
Arun slowly approached while his camera captured every detail. "Guys... I don't know what this is."
He reached toward the crystal.
"I wouldn't."
Arun jumped and spun around. His flashlight swept across the ruins.
Four people stood between the pillars—Raghav and three elders from the village.
But they looked completely different now. Their ordinary clothes were gone, replaced by dark ceremonial robes.
Strange symbols had been painted across their faces, and Raghav's walking stick had been replaced by a long iron dagger.
Arun stared at him. "Pandit ji?"
Raghav looked at the camera and then back at Arun. "I'm sorry."
Arun took a step backward. "What's going on?"
"You were never supposed to see this."
"Then why bring me here?"
Raghav's eyes moved toward the crystal. "Because we needed you."
Arun's stomach tightened. "Needed me for what?"
The old man took a slow breath. "For the same reason your ancestors were once afraid of this place."
Arun frowned. "What does that mean?"
Raghav stepped closer. "Three hundred years ago, Rajapur was dying."
His voice remained calm, almost gentle. "Famine came first. Then disease."
He took another step. "Children died."
Arun swallowed as Raghav continued. "The villagers prayed."
Raghav looked at the crystal. "Nothing answered."
Then he looked back at Arun. "Until something did."
A low vibration moved through the ground. The crystal pulsed brighter, and Arun felt the vibration inside his chest.
Raghav continued, "The thing beneath this temple offered our ancestors a bargain."
"Protection. Rain. Harvest. Wealth."
He paused before looking directly into Arun's eyes.
"And all it wanted in return... was a person."
Arun felt his stomach drop. "No."
Raghav's expression barely changed. "Every Blood Moon."
Arun looked toward the forest. The shadows between the trees seemed darker than they should have been.
"You invited me."
Raghav nodded.
"You called ahead."
"Yes."
"You gave me a room."
"Yes."
"You fed me."
"Yes."
Arun's voice became quieter. "Why?"
Raghav answered, "Because you came looking for a story."
One of the elders smiled. "And because nobody would miss you here."
Arun stepped backward until his heel struck stone. "You people are insane."
"No." Raghav's voice was almost sad. "We are survivors."
Something moved behind him. Arun looked over his shoulder.
The darkness near the temple wall was changing. It slowly peeled away from the stone like smoke being pulled from a fire.
One shape became two. Two became five.
Tall figures emerged without horns, claws, or recognizable faces. They were simply human silhouettes made from impossible darkness.
Their eyes were the first things Arun could see.
Blue. Cold. Unblinking.
One of them tilted its head, and Arun heard a voice.
Not through his ears. Inside his mind.
RUN.
Arun stared at the creature. Raghav looked at the shadows and whispered:
"It has begun."
Rajapur wasn't the only place hiding a terrible secret. Discover the darkness that still haunts Tamasa Valley.
❖❖❖
CHAPTER FOUR: THE HUNT
Arun moved before he understood what he was doing. He swung his flashlight directly into Raghav's face.
The old man shouted, and Arun ran. Branches tore at his clothes as he crashed through the forest.
Behind him came footsteps—heavy at first, slow and steady, then faster.
Arun didn't look back. He couldn't. His lungs burned as his heartbeat hammered against his ribs.
The forest seemed to stretch around him. Every time he thought he recognized the path, the trees seemed to change.
He passed the same broken tree twice. Then three times.
"No..."
He stopped and turned around. The path behind him was empty.
His breathing filled the forest. Then he heard a voice.
"Arun."
He froze. It was his mother's voice—soft, familiar, and completely impossible.
"Arun, don't move."
His eyes filled with tears before he could stop them. "Mom?"
Silence followed. Then the voice came again.
"Don't look behind you."
Arun's skin prickled. His mother was hundreds of miles away.
She couldn't be here. He slowly turned his head anyway.
Nothing. The forest stood empty.
Then another voice whispered directly behind his ear.
"Arun..."
He spun around. A face stood between the trees.
His mother's face.
But the eyes were wrong. They were too dark, and the mouth opened wider than any human mouth should.
Arun screamed and ran. He didn't stop, and he no longer cared where he was going.
His phone had no signal, his camera kept cutting in and out, and his flashlight flickered with every few steps.
Then, ahead of him, he saw light.
The road.
Arun burst through the trees and fell onto the gravel. His SUV was only twenty yards away.
He crawled toward it. Behind him came silence.
Arun turned.
The forest was empty.
Then Raghav stepped onto the road. Blood ran down one side of his face where the flashlight had struck him.
Three elders followed, each carrying an iron dagger. Raghav looked at his watch.
"Two minutes."
Arun struggled to stand. "What?"
"The moon reaches its peak in two minutes."
Shadows appeared behind them. Blue eyes stared through the darkness.
Raghav walked closer. "You cannot outrun the contract."
Arun backed toward his SUV. "There is always a way out."
"Not tonight."
Arun reached the vehicle. Raghav smiled.
"You have no signal."
Arun looked at him, then at his phone. Something changed in his expression.
Fear remained, but beneath it was something else—a tiny smile.
Raghav noticed. "What?"
Arun raised his phone. "You're right. I have no signal."
"But I don't need your cell tower."
❖❖❖
CHAPTER FIVE: THE LIVE FEED
The screen illuminated Arun's face. A red icon blinked at the top.
LIVE — VIEWERS: 18,742
Raghav stared as the number climbed. 21,304. 27,911. 34,608.
"What have you done?"
Arun breathed heavily. "I started streaming when I realized the drone wasn't coming back."
Raghav's expression changed. Arun turned the phone toward him.
Comments were racing across the screen.
WHAT IS THIS PLACE?
IS THIS REAL?
CALL THE POLICE
THAT THING BEHIND THEM
ARUN RUN
Raghav looked at the camera, then at the phone, and finally back at Arun.
"You said there was no signal."
"There isn't."
Arun pointed toward the roof of his SUV. A small satellite dish was mounted above it.
"I brought my own."
The viewer count climbed again. 61,205. 74,891. 93,402.
Then the number changed.
100,000
Raghav took a step backward. Arun's voice steadied.
"Every word you said is being recorded—the ritual, the sacrifice, the contract, the temple, the creatures..."
He looked directly at Raghav.
"...and your names."
One elder whispered, "Raghav..."
The old man ignored him. "You think the world will believe you?"
Arun looked at the phone. "They don't have to."
He smiled faintly. "They only have to watch."
The viewer count crossed 150,000, then 200,000. A siren sounded somewhere far down the mountain road.
Raghav looked toward the darkness. "No."
Another siren came, much closer.
"You called them?"
Arun shook his head. "My team did."
The first police lights appeared around the bend, red and blue flashing through the trees.
For the first time, Raghav looked afraid. He looked toward the forest, then toward the crystal, and finally back at Arun.
"You don't understand."
Arun lowered the phone. "Understand what?"
Raghav's voice cracked. "The contract was never about keeping the sacrifice secret."
Arun stared at him.
Raghav looked at the red moon. "It was about keeping the story alive."
The crystal pulsed once. Then twice.
A crack appeared across its surface.
The crystal was breaking.
Raghav's eyes widened. "No."
The crack spread with a sound almost like glass breaking underwater.
The shadow creatures stopped moving. Their blue eyes turned away from Arun and fixed on Raghav.
The old man slowly stepped backward.
"We gave you what you wanted. We gave you the outsider."
One of the elders began crying. "Please."
The shadows moved toward them. Raghav raised his dagger.
"No! We kept the bargain!"
The first shadow touched him.
Raghav disappeared.
Not violently. Not dramatically. One moment he was standing there, and the next there was only empty space.
His dagger hit the gravel. The other elders screamed as the shadows moved through them.
The police vehicles were almost at the village now. Arun stood frozen beside his SUV.
He should have felt relief. Instead, something cold settled inside his chest.
The crystal cracked again.
This time, Arun heard the voice inside his head.
YOU TOLD THEM.
He closed his eyes. The voice continued.
NOW THEY KNOW.
Arun opened his eyes. The last shadow was staring directly at him.
Its blue eyes were not angry. They were almost human.
Almost grateful.
Then it disappeared into the trees, and the forest became silent again.
The police arrived seconds later. Officers jumped from their vehicles, shouting questions, but Arun barely answered.
He simply got into his SUV, locked the doors, started the engine, and drove.
He didn't stop until Rajapur was far behind him.
❖❖❖
EPILOGUE: THE SEVENTH PERSON
Three weeks later, Arun sat alone in his apartment. The video had become the biggest thing he had ever released.
Twenty-seven million views. News channels had picked it up, and people argued endlessly about the footage.
Some called it the greatest paranormal evidence ever recorded. Others called it an elaborate hoax.
The government denied knowing anything about Rajapur, and no official report mentioned Raghav.
No bodies were found. The village itself was strangely quiet.
Too quiet.
Arun stopped reading the comments. He couldn't sleep, because every night he heard the same sound.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Always three.
One night, he finally opened the door.
Nobody was there. But when Arun returned to his apartment, his laptop was on.
He was certain he'd shut it down.
The screen showed the Rajapur livestream. Arun frowned as he realized the video was paused at the moment he had first entered the ruins.
He watched himself walk toward the altar. Then something caught his attention.
A figure stood behind him between the pillars.
Arun leaned closer. The figure was tall, motionless, and watching.
He rewound the footage and played it again. The figure was still there.
He checked the original footage. Same thing.
Arun's face went pale. He had never seen it before.
He slowed the video, and the figure moved.
One step. Then another.
It had been following him—not from the temple, but from the moment he entered the forest.
Arun's hands began to shake. Then the livestream chat appeared on the screen.
Thousands of comments filled the window, but one message was pinned.
The strange part was its timestamp. It had been posted three minutes before Arun had even reached the ruins.
The username was:
RAGHAV_1712
The message contained only seven words.
THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN SEVEN OF US.
Arun stopped breathing. He looked at the video again.
Six figures stood behind the altar.
He counted them slowly. One. Two. Three.
Four. Five. Six.
Then he looked at the seventh shadow.
It was standing directly behind him.
Arun slowly turned toward the dark hallway of his apartment.
Nothing.
He looked back at the screen. The figure had moved closer.
The livestream suddenly froze.
A new message appeared.
It wasn't from the chat. It wasn't from YouTube.
It appeared in the center of the screen in deep red letters.
CONTRACT TRANSFERRED.
Arun stared at the message. Then the lights in his apartment went out.
Three knocks came from inside his bedroom.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Then his own voice whispered from the darkness.
"Arun..."
He didn't answer. He remembered Raghav's warning.
If you hear anything that calls your name...
The bedroom door slowly opened.
And somewhere beyond it, something smiled.
