It was early January in the year 1990 in the city of Simla. The chilly winds hovered around freely, probably because of the snowfall in the northern hemisphere that took over the new year celebrations. Due to heavy rainfall the normal day to day operations came to a gradual halt. In the heart of the city, stood an edifice not that traditional ones found in the hilly areas like Simla, but somewhat similar to the one found in the plains.
Harshvardhan Thakur, an impeccable man who always performed his duties discreetly. He led a life with greatest honor that never causing him to turn his head down in front of anybody. But with power and money like he had, creating a school of life threatening enemies was obvious. But he always played his cards with utmost caution. He had his moved planned in a manner that overtook his enemies most deadly plans. But as said but seldom believed, every powerful man has some weakness. The weakness which is often unknown to all except the possessed himself.
Simran, a jovial girl in her early twenties was the center of attraction in the whole family. Being the only daughter of the royal Rajputs, being possessive for her was something can't be blamed as a crime on Harshvardhan. She was a doll of a woman who was the dream bride of every second person in the city since they had stepped in but Harshvardhan was a man of strong principles. He made his decision to marry his daughter to his childhood friend's son Yash, the only son of Vikram Chauhan, the best friend of Harsh's childhood. Simran was against this marriage as she wanted to be free. She needed time for the biggest decision of her life. Moreover Yash was too possessive for her.
One night when the full moon took its position to enlighten the darkest nights, something inexplicable happened. Simran was resting in her room turning the pages of the book. Suddenly she heard a noise that rose slowly but gradually. It was coming from the forest area behind her back. Someone was walking, coming close with every breath she took. Panting heavily because of anxiety, she moved close to the window at the back of her room. Cases of Ghost sightings were famous in the hills with every man or woman who had lived there for a long time believed of seeing a ghost or two in their life. The knock was getting louder as it came closer. Her throat went dry. She felt like every drop of water being sucked out from her body. Trying to scream hard, but the larynx felt nonexistent. Heavy sweating had made her cold. The vision was getting blurred every second as the oxygen supply to the brain was cut. Her nostrils breathed air that had turned cold. With a gasp she fell like a corpse on the wooden floor. It was gone!
To be continued.
