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Violence Scene Ahead⚠️⚠️⚠️

Outside the gate of the abandoned building, a girl lay curled up in a ball. Her forehead glistened with cold perspiration under the suffocating darkness of the night. Her hands were clenched tightly, and her eyes squeezed shut as though trying to block out the horrors engulfing her.

The building's perimeter was desolate, shrouded in an eerie silence. The oppressive weight of the night's ominous presence seemed to wrap around her like a monstrous grip, squeezing the air from her lungs.

"Shreesha!"

A piercing voice cut through the darkness like a blade. The sound was sharp, commanding, and filled with urgency. Moments later, a figure rushed through the perimeter, her movements swift and determined.

Arya dropped to her knees beside the trembling girl, gathering her into her arms. Shreesha's body was ice-cold, her violent shivering so intense that it felt as though life itself was slipping away.

Arya's brows furrowed deeply as she studied her. Shreesha's pale face, drenched in sweat, looked almost lifeless. Her lips trembled, and her breath came in shallow gasps.

"Shreesha," Arya called again, her voice softer this time but laced with worry. She shook her lightly. There was no response.

Without wasting another moment, Arya hoisted Shreesha to her feet, one arm around her waist to steady her. "Come on," she muttered under her breath, half to herself and half to Shreesha.

Dragging her inside the flat, Arya's mind raced. She was painfully familiar with these episodes. Shreesha had faced this before—this complete breakdown, this paralyzing fear. But something about tonight felt different.

"What triggered it this time?" Arya murmured as she glanced at the girl leaning heavily against her.

Shreesha's trembling didn't subside even after they entered the relative safety of the flat. Her cold skin felt unnatural, as though she'd been frozen to the core by something more than just the night's chill.

Arya carried a bowl of warm water and a hand towel to the bedside. Her eyes lingered on the girl cocooned in the blanket, trembling despite the layers of warmth. Shreesha's fragile form seemed smaller than ever, her face pale and damp with sweat.

Arya's jaw tightened, and her grip on the bowl strained, making the water ripple dangerously close to the edge. The sight of Shreesha like this—helpless, trapped in a torment Arya couldn't fight—stoked a fire of frustration and helplessness in her chest.

She knelt beside the bed, dipping the towel into the warm water before wringing it out. With gentle hands, she dabbed the cloth across Shreesha's clammy forehead, her touch soft but deliberate.

Her voice broke the silence, low and almost inaudible. "Shreesha... why won't you tell me?"

Arya's gaze flickered to the trembling girl's face, searching for answers in the furrowed brows and quivering lips. She already knew the truth: Shreesha's nightmare was back. The same silent terror that had haunted her before.

But how to stop it? How to fight something that lived in the shadows of her mind?

No one knew. Not even Shreesha herself.

Arya drew in a shaky breath, the warmth of her resolve battling the chill of fear creeping up her spine. Over the years, she had tried everything to help Shreesha: soothing words, distractions, even relentless questions in moments of desperation. Yet every time, Shreesha's lips had remained sealed, locking the nightmare away as if speaking it aloud would give it even greater power.