Author's POV

As Nayan walked sinde the huge mansion, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over her. 

The aura of the villa was utterly dark, with no light except for the unsettling red lights at various corners, casting long, ominous shadows. The interior was even more disturbing—dark tones dominated every room, with peculiar artifacts and strange objects that seemed out of place.  

The silence was palpable, broken only by the occasional jingle of her jewelry, which seemed to pierce the quiet in an uncanny way. Nayan felt a chill of discomfort, as though the very air was thick with malevolence.

Her discomfort only grew as she entered the main hallway. Her gaze was drawn to the left wall, where she initially thought she saw black butterfly stickers, but upon closer inspection, they revealed themselves to be bat stickers, their wings outstretched in a sinister embrace. The other wall was decorated with gothic elements—ornate, dark mirrors and intricate, eerie carvings that added to the oppressive atmosphere.

The curtains hanging by the huge French window were a deep shade of dark grey, their heavy fabric adding to the somber mood of the room. The entire space exuded a sense of foreboding, a stark contrast to the bright and cheerful atmosphere she had left behind at her father's house.

The absence of a warm welcome from her in-laws felt like a slap in the face. There were no traditional rituals, no joyous celebrations. It was as if she were an unwelcome guest rather than a cherished bride. This lack of hospitality was insulting and strange, adding to the foreboding sense that something was not right about this place.

The sense of claustrophobia was overwhelming, as if the very high and imposing, black walls were closing in on her.

Turning back to search for her husband, Nayan found herself alone in the vast emptiness. Yashvardhan was nowhere to be seen; he seemed to have vanished into thin air. The realization struck her with a wave of panic. The silence of the mansion, now more pronounced in his absence, felt even more suffocating in lack of human interactions. 

Suddenly, a sharp and commanding voice cut through the silence, piercing Nayan's eardrums and making her jolt.

"You! Girl! Come with me."

Nayan turned to see Sadhna Thakur standing in the doorway, her presence as cold and imposing as the surroundings. Her eyes were sharp, her expression stern. Without waiting for a response, Sadhna turned on her heel and strode down a narrow corridor, leaving Nayan little choice but to follow.

Her heart pounded violently in her chest as she trailed behind Sadhna. The corridor was secluded, tucked away from the main areas of the mansion, and the dim, flickering lights only heightened the sense of isolation. The walls seemed to press in on her from both sides, and each step felt like she was descending into a dark abyss, a deep hole that might trap her forever once she reached its end.

Goosebumps erupted on Nayan's skin as a chill of apprehension washed over her. Her mind raced with a torrent of thoughts—her father's warnings about Thakur Memsahib, the unsettling atmosphere of the villa, the strange and foreboding decorations. Was her father right about Sadhna? Was she indeed up to something sinister?

Nayan felt confused and disoriented, her senses overwhelmed by the eerie environment and the growing sense of entrapment. The corridor seemed to stretch endlessly, its darkness swallowing up any glimmer of hope or comfort. Every sound, every shadow, seemed magnified in the oppressive silence, making her feel as though she was being drawn further into a trap.

Her steps felt heavy, her anxiety mounting with each passing moment. The corridor appeared to lead into an even darker part of the mansion, and Nayan's apprehension grew stronger. The sense of being trapped, of having no escape, was almost unbearable.

When they finally reached a heavy wooden door, Sadhna pushed it open with a commanding gesture. The room that greeted Nayan was even more disturbing than the rest of the villa. It was huge. Way too huge. The air inside was thick and heavy.

The furniture in the room was ornate yet chilling, with dark, intricate carvings that seemed to twist and writhe in the dim light. A grand chandelier hung above the bed, its dim glow casting long, sinister shadows that seemed to close in on Nayan from all sides. The shadows danced ominously on the walls and floor, creating an unsettling and claustrophobic effect.

As Nayan's gaze swept across the room, she noticed a meshy dark net hanging in a rough square shape above the bed. Its  seemed to cast a suffocating shadow over the bed, making it look like a sinister snare waiting to trap its prey.

Her eyes then fell upon the walls, which were adorned with framed photographs. The images were distorted and unsettling, painted in dark, disfigured shapes that conveyed a sense of malevolence and despair. 

Just then, Sadhna's voice cut through the silence with a chilling edge.

"Like it here?"

The cruel smile on Sadhna's lips was like a knife twisting in Nayan's already raw nerves. She was leaning casually against a dark, ornate desk with her arms folded across her chest. Her posture was relaxed, yet there was an unmistakable air of menace in her demeanor. The way she looked at Nayan, with a mix of amusement and cold detachment, made the room feel even more creepy. 

Sadhna's eyes gleamed with a cold satisfaction as she observed Nayan's reaction.

"Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to get used to it."

Sadhna continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nayan nodded awkwardly.

Upon reaching the wardrobe, Sadhna opened one of the heavy doors, revealing rows of neatly arranged black sarees, their monotone blending seamlessly with the shadowy interior of the room. The sight of the wardrobe's contents only deepened Nayan's sense of unease.

On top of the layered black fabric lay a dark-red saree that matched Nayan's lehenga. Its rich, deep color stood out against the sea of black. Beside the saree, tangled jewelry pieces were strewn haphazardly.

Sadhna turned to face her, her eyes cold and calculating as she walked towards Nayan with the new red saree and jewelry in her hand.

"Listen carefully, Nayan. My son should not go to other women to fulfill his needs. It is your duty to satisfy him completely and give him whatever he wants."

Saying this she handed the fabric and the ornaments to her. The words hung in the air like a poisonous cloud. Nayan felt a surge of anger and humiliation, but she forced herself to remain composed. The weight of Sadhna's command felt like a shackle around her, tightening with each passing second.

"Ji, Memsahib." 

She replied softly.

"Ye memsahib mat bola kar!" 

Sadhna shrieked.

Does she want me to call her maa? Nayan wondered, her thoughts tinged with a mix of sarcasm and frustration.

"Thakurain bola kar!" 

(Call me Thakurain!)

Sadhna's voice echoed in the oppressive room.

Nayan's subconscious mocked her. Learn to lower your standards, Nayan. You're expecting way too much.

"Ji, Thakurain."

"Good. Remember, his happiness is your responsibility now. Fail him, and you will face the consequences."

With that, Sadhna turned and left to a room attached to hers via a massive door,  leaving Nayan alone with her mounting dread. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself against the overwhelming sensation of everything that happening right now.

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