The sun had set over the forest, casting a dark and eerie shadow over the deserted road. A family of three was driving home in their modest sedan, winding their way through the dense woods. As they rounded a sharp bend, a sleek black Rolls-Royce came speeding around the corner, its tires screeching in protest.
The Rolls-Royce slammed into the sedan with tremendous force, sending it soaring into the air. The sedan crashed to the ground, its metal frame crumpled and twisted. The parents were slumped over in the front seats, motionless.
The child, shaken but alive, was trapped in the backseat. The mother, despite her severe injuries, stirred and tried to move. With a surge of adrenaline, she managed to free herself and reached for her child. She pulled the child out of the wreckage, trying to drag them to safety.
The child looked up to see the Rolls-Royce's occupants stumbling out of the vehicle. A man, reeking of alcohol, gazed at the wreckage with a mixture of shock and indifference. The child cried out for help, but the men ignored them, laughing and joking as they returned to their vehicle.
As the Rolls-Royce drove away, the child watched in horror as the sedan burst into flames. The mother's eyes locked onto hers, filled with a mix of pain and love. With a final whisper, she went limp, leaving the child alone and adrift.
The child stumbled backward, watching as the sedan was engulfed in flames. The Rolls-Royce disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind a trail of destruction and death. The child head was bleading , eyes were getting with tears as it just saw death of its parents . The child looked towards Rolls - Royce which was slowly disappearing from the child sight , child screamed for help looking towards that car . But ofcourse no response. Due to heavy blood loss , child fainted but before child closed his/ her eyes , those eyes saw Rai which was written in bold letters in back mirror of Rolls - Royace
{ Van ki sadak par ek durghatna hui
Parivaar ki khushiyan ek pal mein khatm hui
Bachche ke sir se khoon bah raha tha
Maata-pita ki mrityu ho gayi bachcha akela rah gaya
Van ke vriksh khade the jaise ve ro rahe the
Bachche ki pukaar sunkar dil dukhi ho raha tha
Jin logon ne takkar maari ve dil ke patthar the
Unhone bachchi ki madad nahin ki aur chale gaye bina dard ke sahare
Bachchi ke aansoo gir rahe the jaise baarish ki boondein
Uski pukaar sunkar dil toot raha tha jaise patthar ke chunden }
{ An accident occurred on the forest road
A family's happiness ended in an instant
The child's head was bleeding profusely
The parents died, leaving the child alone
The trees of the forest stood like they were crying
The child's cry made the heart sorrowful
The people who collided were heartless
They didn't help the child and left without a care
The child's tears fell like raindrops
The child's cry made the heart break like shattered stone }
FLASHBACK ENDED :~
Aarav stood at the edge of the grand ballroom, nursing a glass of scotch as he watched the who's who of Mumbai's elite mingle and laugh. His father, Rajiv, was holding court, regaling a group of admirers with stories of his latest business conquests.
Aarav's eyes narrowed as he gazed at his father. He had always felt like an outsider in his own family, a constant reminder that Rajiv had made a mistake by loving a woman who wasn't worthy of his name.
His mother, Nalini, had been a beautiful and vibrant woman, but she was also the daughter of a poor artist. Rajiv had never married her, and Aarav had grown up with the stigma of being a bastard.
As he scanned the room, Aarav's eyes landed on his half-brother, Kabir. Kabir was the legitimate son, the one who would inherit Rajiv's empire. Aarav felt a familiar pang of resentment. Why should Kabir get everything, while he was left with nothing?
Just then, a soft voice spoke from behind him. "Aarav, you're not joining the party?"
He turned to see a woman with piercing green eyes and long, curly brown hair. "I'm just observing," Aarav replied, his tone low and smooth.
The woman, Kiara, smiled. "You seem like a man with a lot on his mind."
Aarav raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think that?"
Kiara's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "The way you're standing, the way you're looking at your father... you seem like someone who's searching for something."
Aarav's gaze locked onto hers. "Maybe I am."
Kiara took a step closer to him. "I think you're more than just a outsider, Aarav. I think you're someone who's capable of great things."
Aarav felt a shiver run down his spine as Kiara's words struck a chord deep within him.
As Aarav and Kiara continued to converse, the doors to the ballroom swung open, and a hush fell over the crowd. All eyes turned to the entrance, where a tall, handsome young man stood, surveying the room.
He was in his early twenties, with chiseled features and piercing brown eyes that seemed to sparkle with warmth and energy. His dark hair was perfectly messy, and his tailored suit accentuated his athletic build.
Kiara's eyes widened in surprise. "Vikram Jain is here," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the music.
Aarav's gaze narrowed as he watched Vikram make his way through the crowd, flashing a dazzling smile as he shook hands and exchanged greetings with the guests.
As Vikram approached, Aarav felt a pang of curiosity. Who was this young man, and why was he commanding so much attention?
Vikram's eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on Aarav, he smiled and nodded in greeting. Aarav felt a spark of surprise at the warmth in Vikram's eyes.
"Hi," Vikram said, extending a hand to Aarav. "I'm Vikram Jain. I don't think we've met before."
Aarav shook Vikram's hand, feeling a jolt of electricity at the firm handshake. "Aarav Rai," he replied, his voice neutral.
Vikram's eyes sparkled with interest. "Rajiv Rai's son," he said, his tone friendly. "I've heard a lot about you."
Aarav's gaze narrowed, wondering what Vikram had heard, and what he wanted.
Aarav's curiosity got the better of him. "What have you heard about me?" he asked Vikram, his tone light.
Vikram's smile never wavered, but his eyes seemed to gleam with a serious intensity. "Oh, just that your father is a murderer," he said, his voice low and even. "So, I'm guessing you're probably a chip off the old block, right?"
Aarav's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. Vikram's words were delivered with a joking tone, but his eyes told a different story. This wasn't a joke to him.
Kiara's eyes widened in shock, and she placed a hand on Aarav's arm, as if to restrain him. "Vikram, that's not funny," she said, her voice tight.
Vikram's smile never faltered. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend. It was just my sense of humor , I hope Mr Rai's son didn't get offended by it ."
The music and laughter around them seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of them, locked in a silent standoff.
Aarav's eyes seemed to bore into Vikram's, searching for any sign of weakness or insincerity. But Vikram's expression remained neutral, his eyes glinting with a hint of challenge.
Kiara's hand on Aarav's arm tightened, as if she sensed the tension building between the two men. "Vikram, let's not talk about this here and your sense of humor is seriously very bad," she said, her voice low and urgent.
Vikram's gaze never wavered from Aarav's. "Oh, I think it's the perfect place to talk," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "After all, we're all friends here, aren't we?"
Aarav's jaw clenched, his anger simmering just below the surface. Who did Vikram think he was, coming into their home and making accusations like that?
But before Aarav could respond, Vikram's eyes flicked to something over his shoulder. His expression changed, and for a moment, Aarav saw a glimmer of something else - something that looked almost like fear.
Vikram's gaze snapped back to Aarav's, and he smiled again, but this time, it seemed forced. "Excuse me," he said, his voice smooth. "I think I've made a bit of a scene. I'll just go... mingle."
And with that, Vikram turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Aarav and Kiara staring after him in confusion.
Aarav turned to Kiara, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Who is Vikram?" he asked, his voice low.
Kiara's expression was guarded, but she smiled politely. "Vikram Jain is a... businessman," she said, her voice measured. "He's quite influential in certain circles."
Aarav's gaze didn't waver. "And who are you?" he asked, his tone neutral. "We've both met for the first time, and yet you're acting very... sweet, while he's acting like a brat."
Kiara's smile faltered for a moment, and Aarav saw a flash of something else - something that looked almost like vulnerability.
"I'm just a friend of the family," she said, her voice soft. "I've known your father for a while now."
Aarav's eyes narrowed. "And Vikram?" he pressed. "What's your connection to him?"
Kiara's expression turned guarded again, and she glanced around the room nervously. "I... we just move in the same circles, that's all," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Aarav's gaze lingered on Kiara's face, searching for any sign of deception. But her expression remained neutral, and he couldn't help but wonder what secrets she was hiding.
Kiara's eyes darted around the room again, and she smiled politely. "I should probably mingle," she said, her voice light. "It was nice talking to you, Aarav."
Aarav nodded, his eyes still searching for any sign of deception. "Likewise," he said, his tone neutral.
Kiara turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Aarav standing alone. He watched her go for a moment, his mind racing with questions.
Shrugging, Aarav turned and made his way back to the entrance of the ballroom. He slipped out into the hallway, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as he escaped the noise and chaos.
He made his way back to his room, his footsteps echoing down the empty hallway. As he entered his room, he closed the door behind him and leaned against it, letting out a deep breath.
The encounter with Vikram and Kiara had left him feeling unsettled, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their stories than they were letting on.
Aarav climbed the stairs to the top floor of the mansion, where his room was located. This floor was off-limits to everyone else, a sanctuary that only he inhabited. But even its silence and solitude couldn't shield him from the demons of his past.
He entered his room, closing the door behind him. The room was dimly lit, with only a single lamp casting a faint glow, like a dying ember struggling to stay alight. Aarav walked over to the rocking chair in the corner of the room and sat down, letting out a deep sigh that seemed to shake the very foundations of his soul.
He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of his memories bearing down on him like a physical force, crushing him beneath its unyielding pressure. As he rocked gently back and forth, his mind began to wander back to his childhood, like a river flowing inexorably to its dark and troubled depths.
Flashes of memories began to surface, like storm clouds gathering on the horizon, their thunderous rumblings shaking the air. He remembered the sound of his father's yelling, like the crack of a whip splitting the air, the feel of his belt on his skin, like a branding iron searing his flesh, and the taste of his own tears, like bitter rain pouring down his face.
Aarav's childhood had been a barren and desolate landscape, devoid of love, compassion, or kindness. His father, Rajiv, had been a raging tempest, destroying everything in his path, leaving only devastation and despair in his wake. His stepmother, Nalini, had been a venomous snake, striking without warning, her words and actions dripping with malice and cruelty.
As the memories flooded back, Aarav's eyes snapped open, and he sat up straight, his heart racing like a wild animal trapped in his chest. He felt like he was drowning in his own memories, unable to escape the undertow of his past, which was pulling him down into the dark, icy depths of his own private hell.
The rocking chair creaked softly as Aarav sat there, frozen in time, reliving the horrors of his childhood, his mind shattered like fragile glass dropped on stone, his soul torn apart like a tree uprooted by a hurricane
Aarav's breath came in ragged gasps, as if he was suffocating under the weight of his memories. His eyes felt dry and gritty, like the desert sand that had blown into his room on stormy nights.
He rocked back and forth, his mind trapped in a never-ending cycle of pain and fear. His childhood had been a living nightmare, and he couldn't wake up from it.
Just as he thought he couldn't take it anymore, Aarav's eyes began to droop, and his head nodded forward. He was exhausted, drained by the emotions that had been swirling inside him.
As he drifted off to sleep, Aarav felt a sense of relief wash over him. Maybe, just maybe, he could find some peace in his dreams.
But as he slipped into unconsciousness, Aarav's mind had one final trick in store for him. A voice whispered in his ear, a voice that sounded uncannily like his father's.
"You'll never be free, Aarav," the voice hissed. "You'll never be able to escape the past."
Aarav's eyes snapped open, and he sat up with a start. He was drenched in sweat, his heart racing like a jackhammer.
It was just a dream, he told himself. But the voice still echoed in his mind, haunting him like a ghost.
After some hours :~
The darkness was absolute, a living, breathing entity that wrapped itself around Aarav like a shroud. He couldn't see his hand in front of his face, couldn't hear anything except the sound of his own ragged breathing.
He was lying on a narrow bed, his body tense and rigid. The air was thick with the scent of decay and rot, and Aarav's stomach churned with nausea.
Suddenly, a faint light flickered to life in the corner of the room. It was a small, candle sized flame that cast eerie shadows on the walls.
Aarav's eyes adjusted slowly to the light, and he saw that he was in a small, dingy room. The walls were cracked and crumbling, the floor covered in a thick layer of dust.
He sat up slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. Where was he? How had he gotten here?
The flame danced and flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Aarav felt a presence in the room, a presence that watched him with cold, calculating eyes.
He spun around, but there was no one there. The presence seemed to be all around him, closing in on him like a vise.
Aarav's breath came in short, sharp gasps. He was trapped, trapped in this
dark, dingy room with no escape.
And then, he heard the voice. It was a low, rasping voice that seemed to come from all around him.
"Welcome home, Aarav," the voice said. "You'll never leave."
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