Act 2.3.1 Fear

Ashay closed his eyes, thinking about some good things while getting a haircut. For once he let his mind drift, trying to shut himself out from this world. Everything was well and smooth, until he had someone call him.

"Ashay!" The voice sounded awfully familiar yet disturbing. His eyes snapped open, catching his reflection in the mirror.

And when he did, he saw the same bloodied text on the mirror again. Slowly engraving on his reflection, bold and clear.

"THE LIGHT SHALL FALL!"

Ashay could feel his stomach churn. Images crashed through his mind in rapid flashes—people locked in dark rooms, bound and gagged, their eyes hollow and bleeding. Figures in masks stood in cold, merciless formation, blood pooling at their feet, darkening the earth. He couldn't stop the visions. They poured into his mind like a nightmare forced wide awake.

Sweats beaded down his forehead, his skin tingled with a cold sensation, and his heart pounded so hard it hurt. Ashay grabbed on his chest, chugging with all his strength. 

The barber noticed his pale face and took a step back, his hands trembling.

"Are you fine, sir?" He asked, but there was no response.

"Sir? Sir?" He asked again, shaking Ashay's shoulder. The touch jolted him back. He blinked, and the bloody messages were no more. He turned to look at the barber standing next to him, then looked back at the reflection.

'Was that a hallucination?' He asked himself, but it happened to him so many times he knew it was all real. Ashay wiped the sweat off his forehead, swallowing the heavy lump down his throat.

"Ya… I am… It's good. It's a nice haircut." He responded in a trembling voice.

'It's the same message again,' he thought, making payments; his mind was mostly dozed off with thoughts. Ignoring the stares of strangers, Ashay bolted home. He barely noticed his surroundings as he tore through the door, uncaring about a shower, and he directly turned his computer on.

After connecting to the internet, he searched for information on the college incident.

He read the articles about it and looked for images, most of which were censored, but he discovered two odd and useful bits of information. The images showed scenes of carnage: blood-smeared walls, shredded limbs, and students' bags scattered and drenched in red.

But he saw something new—something hidden in the student interviews. One survivor mentioned seeing hooded figures lurking near the gates, though the media had forced him to retract his statement. Another, a police officer, claimed he'd felt an unnatural barrier keeping him from entering the campus during the attack. The statement was likewise erased, but Ashay found it, buried in a censored website.

He scrolled through articles after articles after articles, trying to connect some dots with the event. Time blurred with the screen; it was already evening, and there was no more information about the incident.

The more he scrolled, the more he switched between different news sections. It was almost as if all information about the incident was deliberately censored or hidden. 

'What the hell is happening?' Ashay rubbed his forehead frustrated. After four hours, he went into the bathroom to take a shower. "I clearly remember the monster who attacked the campus; why is there no mention of it?"

He let the cold droplets of water trickle over his skin. But even in this isolation, he could feel an uneasiness, like a hole he needed to fill. Something he found himself dragged into.

'The things happening—are they even real?' 

Ashay looked at his right hand; the bandages were drenched in water, and he could see the slight pink scratch mark on his arm. The person who gave him these marks—his pleads, his face—he remembered everything.

"NO! This is more than real." His voice echoed in the bathroom, and his expression stiffened once again. 'And somehow, I am deeply involved in this shit. All those visions and messages—they are all, and I too am a part of it.'

"The light shall fall."

He repeated the text again and again, "What does it mean... what does it mean... what?" Something clicked in his mind, and his expressions instantly changed.

Ashay turned off the shower and dashed back to his computer. His hair was barely rubbed dry. He scrolled through the news section again, this time looking for all of the stories that had been overlooked because of the college incident. Something caught his attention. He writes it down, then another, and another.

'This is...' Ashay's emotions were overwhelming as he reflected on another missing case in the city and the notebook containing the 30th case in a single day. Missing individuals include women, children, and teenagers who left for school or a walk.

He refreshed the page and scrolled through the news again, just to find ten more new cases uploaded within an hour. "The college news is so dominant that missing cases aren't getting any coverage at all!"

Suddenly the dots began connecting; Ashay's vision was true; something was about to happen, and it was taking place as of right now. He quickly threw a shirt on him and walked downstairs.

"Rajat! Rajat!" he shouted, bursting into his brother's room. Rajat, seated in his wheelchair and half listening to music, looked up, startled.

Rajat awkwardly lifted his headphones and turned to look back at Ashay, as if asking for an explanation. Ashay made a fowl expression in response to his dead look: "Just don't go out of the house whatever happens!"

"Seriously?" Rajat looked dumbfounded, pointing at the wheelchair he was sitting on. Ashay, on the other hand, abruptly closed the door.

He tried calling Mukesh, but his calls didn't go through. The network was constantly deviating, much like glitched software. Mukesh used to work as a watchman in the nearby complex, so Ashay was not concerned about him.

His shift was almost over, so he was heading home anyway. Even so, he had a feeling that something was going to happen. He walked around the hall, left and right, then closed all of the windows and other openings in the house except the main door.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Rajat came out of his room, looking at Ashay roam around. But despite his question, Ashay continued to ignore him. So he asked again, "If there is something funny that you want to apologize for, then now is the time for it."

Ashay paused, scratching his head in frustration. "Nothing's happening. You wouldn't believe it anyway." But Rajat overheard, raising an eyebrow.

"What won't I believe?"

Before Ashay could respond, a strange buzzing sound filled the room, like static from an old television. The two brothers looked stunned as the television screen came to life, despite the fact that no one had turned it on. Their phones began to glitch, flashing the same distorted images.

"Who the fuck turned the TV on?" Rajat asked, trying to switch it off, but the remote didn't work. "And why can't I switch it off?"

He turned away from the TV and looked at his phone. He struck it hard, but nothing worked. The disturbing video continued to play. Ashay dashed into his room and opened his laptop.

When he did, it resumed playing the same distorted visuals. Images are distorted and occasionally blink, with a dim sound audible. Rajat frowned as he rolled his chair to unplug the TV, but Ashay stopped him.

"Let it play," Ashay said with an unknown seriousness in his voice. Rajat was about to protest until the sound on TV became clearer and clearer, and the visuals slowly stabilized, turning into a dark place.

Ashay looked at the television, while Rajat observed everything with sharp eyes. At first glance, the screen appeared black, but this was not the case. The video showed the texture and outline of the object.

"The screen isn't blank, but it's playing a video of somewhere black," Rajat observed closely. He then turned to Ashay and asked, "Where is this video streaming from?" "Why can't I close it?"

"The hell do I know?" Ashay replied annoyed; he didn't know what frustrated him more, the screen or Rajat's observation. But none of them had time to think anything, as the visuals slightly blurred and lightened up into gray than normal.

It was some sort of empty ground until the camera angle slowly turned around and Ashay saw his fear turning into reality. Over a hundred people of various age groups were tied to wooden pillars, their mouths shut, and their hands pinned down with big iron nails.