The car headlights cut through the mist as they drove down the forgotten road toward the remains of Hollowridge House. Trees leaned inward as though trying to keep them from returning. The very air around the ruins felt thicker, heavier… like a living presence.
No one spoke.
Even Father Desai, usually calm and collected, clutched his crucifix tight and kept whispering prayers under his breath.
When the car rolled to a stop, the three stepped out into absolute silence.
There were no crickets.
No wind.
No stars.
Just the hollowed-out carcass of the mansion, now blackened, crumbling, and covered in vines.
Veer's voice was hoarse. "This place should be dead."
But Aarohi could feel it in her bones—it was very much alive.
The front steps had collapsed, so they climbed over piles of burnt wood and cracked brick. The main entrance had caved in, but a side window gaped open like a broken mouth.
They crawled inside.
The moment Aarohi's feet touched the scorched wooden floor, a gust of hot air blew through the ruins.
She shivered.
Veer shivered too, though the air was burning.
"Something's watching us," he whispered.
Desai lit a candle. "Stay close. And do not speak unless absolutely necessary."
They walked through what was once the living room.
The chandelier had melted.
The sofa was reduced to a steel skeleton.
The floor was slick with blackened soot.
But beneath the layers of destruction…
…symbols were appearing.
Not written in ink or blood—no.
The ash itself curled into them.
Runes.
Old ones.
Aarohi stepped back. "These weren't here before."
Desai knelt, examining the patterns.
"They're not meant to harm. They're meant to hold."
"Hold what?" Veer asked.
Aarohi looked up toward where the attic used to be.
Her voice shook.
"Him."
They moved toward the base of the staircase.
Or what was left of it.
Charred beams hung like broken ribs.
But in the space beneath them—where the earth had cracked open—a deep hole yawned, leading down into the foundation.
Aarohi's heart raced.
"That wasn't here before…"
Father Desai stepped closer.
He dropped a candle into the pit.
It fell…
…and fell…
…and finally landed with a squelch.
Not a clink. Not a thud.
A wet squelch.
They all stared.
Veer murmured, "What the hell is under this house?"
Aarohi answered softly, "Something that never burned."
They climbed down.
One by one.
Descending into blackness that no light could fully touch.
The candle flickered on the ground below, revealing walls that breathed.
Not literally—but close.
Moist. Pulsing. Covered in moss and ash.
The space felt unnatural. Wrong.
And at the center of it…
…was a door.
A heavy metal hatch, bolted shut with iron chains and nails driven deep into the walls.
It was old.
Older than the house.
Older than any of them could understand.
On it was carved a name in deep, jagged script:
DEV.
Veer swallowed hard. "This is it."
Desai took out the ritual dagger.
"We don't break it open. We don't challenge it. We ask."
Aarohi stepped forward. "Ask what?"
Desai turned to her, solemn. "What it wants. Why it hasn't moved on."
She nodded.
And with trembling hands, she knelt before the sealed hatch and whispered:
"Dev… we're here. Tell us what you need. What keeps you here?"
For a long moment—nothing.
Then—
A voice slithered through the cracks like a hiss of steam:
"You buried the lie. Not the truth."
The door vibrated violently.
Ash fell from the ceiling.
Chains rattled.
Veer backed away.
Aarohi pressed her hand against the metal. "Tell me what truth. I want to end this."
A moment of silence.
Then—
"Your great-grandfather didn't kill me for love or honor. He killed me… to take what I found."
Desai's eyes went wide.
"Found? What did he mean?"
Suddenly, the door creaked open just an inch.
Enough to let out one breath.
One putrid, ancient, hot breath.
And a whisper.
"The well. Beneath the earth. The power beneath Hollowridge."
Aarohi gasped.
Veer looked sick.
Desai stepped back, horrified. "There's something under this house. Something worse than Dev. And Rajnath killed to hide it."
And now Dev… was not just a spirit.
He was its voice.
They turned to flee, but the hole behind them sealed shut.
Roots burst through the wall.
Aarohi screamed as black vines snaked across her ankles, pulling her toward the door.
"It's awake!" she cried. "The thing below—it's waking up!"
Desai drew a circle of salt, chanting as fast as he could.
Veer hacked at the roots with the ritual dagger.
The walls pulsed.
And from behind the door, something groaned.
Not Dev.
Something older.
Hungrier.
Just as the roots pulled Aarohi into the hatch, she screamed one final question:
"What was buried here, Dev? What was so important that Rajnath killed you?"
And the answer came…
Whispered like death itself:
"A god."