Samaira loves Devyansh. He resorts to black magic and devil worship. A teacher by profession, he had everything, name, fame, riches...all that he needed except the one. What was the one he was searching for? Nobody knew except a few. They formed his core group of confides. His world, a creation of his deception and black magic housed her for a long time, leaving her with many questions unanswered. He did not have any weapon to kill but he still managed to damage her mind, body and reputation beyond any repair. By deception, he created a bad world for her. A world full of greed, lust, anger, betting, prostitution, penchant for gold and foul smell. A magical world of illusions inhabited by tantric practices and other-worldly norms.
Waiting for her release from the magical den, she is cribbed, cabined and confined. It is no peaceful place but a haven contaminated with all things bad and abound with negative energies. Samaira has travelled past dimensions of time and space for a purpose - to lead her life with the anti-social elements of the Universe. Who are these anti-social elements? How will she lead her life with them? What do they want from her? Will they succeed?
Was she an ordinary mortal or an Incarnation?

The Hell Games

Samaira gives a cold welcome to the Guests. They have come, she thought, hiding herself behind a book. 


"Hello, Bela. How are you doing? And where is the doll? I want to meet her, said Maria. 


She is sitting there. Just go and meet her. Now that you are here, you can meet her more often, began Bela. Maria happily approaches Samaira. 


So Samaira, how are you? You have been a source of inspiration for us, spoke Maria. 


Yes. The way you have taken care of yourself throughout the journey in Ahmednagar. You were brave. 


Maria spoke through her transmedium. I have come to kill you. What will you do now? 


She showered her anger and frustration on her and left for the inside room. 


Samaira got an eerie feeling. "I think I should leave the house as early as possible. By tomorrow morning, perhaps". 


The Unwanted “Guests”