CHAPTER 10

Humans are simple yet the most twisted minded creature ever exists or will be.....

INDIA,IN A FOREST NEAR MUMBAI CITY.

The jungle near Mumbai was suffocating with heat and humidity, the air thick with the scent of damp leaves and soil. Birds cawed in the distance, their sounds swallowed by the dense canopy of trees that seemed to close in around the small, beaten-down van. Rajiv, the trafficker, wiped the sweat from his brow as he slammed the door shut. The van's engine had been cut off, and now there was only silence, broken by the faint whimpers from the back of the vehicle.

Inside the van, a group of children—ages ranging from 8 to 17—sat blindfolded, their hands tied with rough ropes. They huddled together in fear, their faces streaked with dirt, most of them wearing tattered clothes, their eyes puffy from crying beneath the blindfolds. They looked like they belonged to the streets—ragged, hungry, and frightened.

But one girl, seated toward the back, stood out even in this darkness. Her clothes were pristine, a sharp contrast to the others—an expensive dress, soft fabrics that were out of place in the grime and filth around her. She was about 14, with delicate features and long, black hair cascading over her shoulders. She sat stiffly, her body trembling slightly, her breath shallow. Like the others, she was blindfolded and tied, but something about her was different.

Rajiv paced outside, glancing nervously at the trees, his hands running over his stubbled jaw. He knew he needed to move quickly. This spot in the jungle was remote, but not remote enough.

Inside, the kids shifted nervously. The younger ones sobbed quietly, their cries muffled by the weight of their fear. The mysterious girl sat alone, separated from the others. She didn't cry, but there was a silent fear etched into the way she held her breath, how her lips trembled just slightly as if she was fighting back the urge to scream.

The older kids, roughened by street life, sensed something off about her. Even though none of them could see, they knew she wasn't one of them. They whispered amongst themselves, voices hushed but curious.

"She's rich," one boy muttered. "What's she doing with us?"

"Shut up!" another snapped. "You wanna get us all killed?"

The girl flinched at the words, pulling her knees tighter to her chest. She hadn't said a word since they'd all been thrown into the van. Her heart raced, each beat a pounding echo in her ears. Every time Rajiv spoke outside, her body tensed. She didn't know why she was here, why they had taken her. She only remembered the sudden grab, the cloth over her face, and then darkness.

Rajiv glanced back into the van, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the mysterious girl. She was different, he knew it the moment he grabbed her. Her clothes, her polished appearance—they didn't fit the usual profile. But he didn't care. She was just another commodity, another life to sell. Though he couldn't help but wonder—who would be looking for her? He hadn't expected anyone so well-off to cross his path.

"Keep quiet in there!" Rajiv barked, his voice cutting through the thick air. The jungle seemed to hold its breath in response.

The girl swallowed hard, her throat dry. She wanted to speak, to ask why this was happening, to plead for her release, but the fear was too great. She felt as if her voice had abandoned her, leaving her trapped in silence with the others.

Rajiv crushed his cigarette beneath his boot, glancing around the darkening jungle. The air felt thick with tension as he gestured to his men, motioning them to take the children out of the van. One by one, the kids were dragged into the undergrowth, their blindfolds still in place, ropes tight around their wrists. They stumbled on the uneven ground, some sobbing, others too exhausted to cry. 

The mysterious girl was the last to be pulled out. Her expensive dress now clung to her, streaked with dirt and sweat. She stumbled as one of Rajiv's men grabbed her arm roughly, pulling her towards a narrow trail deeper into the jungle. Her heart pounded in her chest, fear rising with each step. 

Through the thick underbrush, a faint light glimmered ahead. As they neared, the shape of an old, run-down cottage became visible—hidden deep in the woods, isolated from prying eyes. The dilapidated structure looked as if it had been forgotten by time, vines curling up the wooden beams, the windows covered with grime. 

Rajiv's men shoved the kids toward the door, forcing them inside. The interior was just as grim—a single room lit by a flickering lantern, with rough-hewn furniture scattered around. A table stood in the center, where several men—more traffickers—waited.

At the head of the table sat a man with cold eyes, their boss, who nodded as Rajiv entered. He was older, grizzled, and had the kind of presence that commanded silence. His gaze swept over the group of children being herded inside, lingering for a moment on the mysterious girl.

"She's the one?" the boss asked, his voice low but sharp.

Rajiv nodded, wiping the sweat from his face. "Yeah. We grabbed her with the others, just like we were told."

The boss leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he examined the girl. She stood trembling near the door, still blindfolded, her bound hands clenched into fists. Even in the dim light, her polished appearance set her apart from the other ragged children. 

"The others can be sold off, same as usual," the boss said dismissively, waving his hand toward the group of terrified kids. "Street rats—nobody will miss them."

One of the traffickers grinned, already thinking of the profits. But the boss's focus remained on the girl. He stood up slowly, walking toward her, his boots echoing in the quiet cottage. He reached out and removed her blindfold, revealing her wide, frightened eyes. For a moment, their gazes locked—her fear clashing with his cold indifference.

"She's not like the others," the boss muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He circled her, studying her with an unsettling intensity. "This one's important. Someone paid a lot of money to get her."

Rajiv frowned, glancing at the boss. "Who paid?"

The boss smirked, but his eyes remained hard. "Some guy. Mysterious. Didn't give much detail, just said he'd pay a fortune if we took her and kept her alive. We're supposed to wait for further instructions."

Rajiv's stomach twisted. He had suspected something strange about this job, but hearing it confirmed made him uneasy. "And the others? What do we do with them?"

"They're nothing. Same deal as always—sell them off to whoever's buying," the boss said, waving his hand dismissively.

The mysterious girl stood frozen, her breath coming in short gasps as she tried to process what was happening. She wasn't a random target. Someone wanted her. Someone dangerous enough to hire these men to take her. Her mind raced, but she was too terrified to speak.

The boss looked at her again, this time with a more calculating gaze. "Keep her separated. She's worth more than the rest of these brats combined. We don't touch her until we know what this guy wants."

Rajiv nodded, though his thoughts were racing. This girl was different, and whatever they had gotten themselves into, it was far more dangerous than the usual kidnappings. But money—especially this kind of money—was enough to silence any doubt. 

The boss motioned to one of the men. "Get her to the back room. Tie her up but make sure she stays unharmed."

As they led her away, the mysterious girl's mind was a whirlwind of fear and confusion. She still didn't know who had taken her or why, but she understood one thing—her life was no longer in her hands. She was a pawn in someone else's game. And time was running out.

Rajiv's men forced the blindfolded children into a separate room, each one tied and trembling. The room was cold and bare, lit only by the faint flicker of a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. The children huddled together on the dirty floor, the fear and exhaustion evident in their gaunt faces. The mysterious girl was led to a separate, locked room at the back, where she was left alone, her fate uncertain.

As the night deepened, the sounds of the jungle grew quieter. The traffickers had settled into a grim routine, their voices low and tired. The only noise now was the occasional rustle of leaves outside and the shuffling of feet in the cottage. The room with the children fell into an uneasy silence.

Hours later, one of the children stirred. He was a boy of about 13, with a face streaked with dirt and clothes that hung from him like rags. He had been barely conscious when they had tossed him into the room, his thin frame shivering from hunger and fear. But now, something changed.

The boy's eyes opened slowly, revealing a startling clarity that seemed at odds with his appearance. His gaze was sharp, and his breathing, though still shallow, seemed more controlled. He sat up, rubbing his wrists against the ropes, his movements deliberate and strangely calm.

The other children, still blindfolded and bound, remained oblivious to his transformation. They lay huddled together, their breaths coming in uneven sobs. The boy, however, seemed to be in a state of profound awareness. His eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail with an intensity that was unusual for someone his age and condition.

The boy began to speak softly, his voice steady and surprisingly articulate. 'It's as if I've been reborn' he said, though his words were directed more to himself than to anyone else. 'ahh...the bloody black hole,that really did a number on my soul its feel like im burning'

....

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