The danger itself

5:00 PM

Kavya and Meera stepped out of the university gates. The outside world was a chaos of honking vehicles and chattering crowds, every second bringing a new distraction. Amidst the noise, the two friends made their way down the left path, chatting casually. After walking for nearly 500 meters, they reached a cross-junction—where their paths were meant to diverge.

Kavya glanced around and then asked,

"Your Tom's not here yet?"

"Tom? No idea. He's usually here by now." Meera replied after a brief pause.

"I can wait with you for a bit if you want. I'm not in a hurry to get home. And..."

"Oh no, it's fine!" Meera interrupted. "I've already troubled you enough today. And if you're late, your family will worry too. Tom's probably just around the corner."

"Alright. But be careful. And call me once you reach home. Or else, I swear I'll file a missing person report." Kavya warned with a half-smile.

"Okay, okay, Mom! Now go already," Meera said playfully, giving her a quick hug.

Kavya crossed the road, turned once to glance back at Meera, then disappeared down her own path.

Meera now stood alone by the roadside. The air buzzed with horns and distant voices, but a strange stillness wrapped around her. Just then, a rickshaw—an electric three-wheeler—pulled up in front of her. A middle-aged man with black hair and a white beard stepped out.

"Standing all alone, dear? Where's your Tom?" he asked.

"No idea, uncle. He's usually never this late."

"No worries. Let's wait a bit—he'll show up. Until then, sit down and rest," he said, switching off the engine and motioning for her to sit on the passenger seat.

Before Meera could respond, the man looked down the left street and said, "There he is."

Meera turned and saw Tom, her German Shepherd, sprinting toward her. As he reached her, he began circling her excitedly, tail wagging, eyes gleaming. He stopped and nudged his head gently against her hand.

Meera glared at him but then sighed. She knelt down and softly stroked his head. Tom's eyes lit up, and he leaped around in joy before jumping into the rickshaw.

"Let's go, Ramu Chacha. We're already quite late today," Meera said, shaking her head.

"Hmm," Ramu replied, starting the rickshaw and steering it right from the junction.

Ramu was the man who took Meera to and from the university every single day. She never paid him anything extra, yet he was always on time—always dependable. Meera deeply respected his selfless nature and felt grateful for him. What she didn't know was how much Rudra was secretly paying him for this service. Had she known, perhaps her opinion of him would've been different.

Twenty minutes later, the rickshaw entered a deserted alley. Ramu made a U-turn and stopped.

Meera and Tom got down, paid the fare, and walked deeper into the silent lane. After about five minutes, Meera began to feel uneasy, as if someone were following her. She turned back several times, but each time she saw only darkness and silence.

Her house wasn't far now—just another 500 meters or so. No other homes or people existed within a kilometer radius. The entire land belonged to her, gifted to her by her father. Though eerie and isolated, Meera had grown used to the silence. She never invited friends over. She had her reasons.

Taking a deep breath, she dismissed her paranoia and walked on.

Then she stopped.

Eight burly men stood in her path, each armed—some with knives, others with axes, and a few gripping hockey sticks.

Behind her, she heard footsteps. Turning around, she saw two more men closing in.

She was completely surrounded.

And yet, not a flicker of fear crossed her face. Expressionless, she looked them dead in the eyes.

But someone else was watching them too—someone whose gaze was fiercer, more primal.

Tom took a step forward, tilted his head back, and let out a chilling howl.

"Awooo..."

"Stop, Tom," Meera said calmly.

She turned toward the attackers, her voice cold as ice.

"I don't know who sent you. But I suggest you all leave. If you don't clear my path within one minute, whatever happens next will be on you."

Clap... clap... woah...

A mocking applause echoed through the silence.

A masked man stepped forward and removed his scarf.

Vinod.

But Meera's face didn't register even the slightest recognition. As if she'd never seen him before.

He chuckled darkly and said,

"Well, I'd love to see what you think you can do. Go ahead, one minute. But..."

He paused. His expression turned sinister.

"If you fail to impress me, I'll make sure your beloved little dog dies in agony."

Vinod wasn't afraid—not here. Outside the university, a kidnapping would have been risky. But this location was perfect. There were no other dogs from Tom's pack around—those intimidating creatures that often lingered near campus.

Meera stared at him for a few seconds, then turned to Tom. His eyes were fixed on the men, burning with a predator's focus. As Meera looked at him, Tom turned toward her. After holding her gaze for a moment, he turned back toward Vinod and bared his teeth.

Vinod's confidence wavered. A chill ran down his spine.

But Tom didn't attack. Instead, he raised his head again and howled—

"Awoooooooo…"

Louder this time. Again and again, shaking the sky.

An irritated voice spoke up,

"Binod, this dog's gone mad. Let's finish this. You take the girl—we'll deal with the dog."

"Why not?" Vinod grinned wickedly and stepped toward Meera.

But suddenly—he froze.

His smirk vanished. His body went rigid.

He noticed something strange.

The two men behind Meera—who were supposed to flank her—were staring at something. Their eyes wide, faces pale, mouths open but speechless.

Vinod followed their gaze—past Meera, past Tom.

And then he felt it.

Before he could even turn, something crashed into him with the force of a boulder.

"Argh!"

A cry escaped his lips. Pain bloomed across his chest. He looked up—and froze.

Two bloodthirsty eyes glared back at him. Paralyzing, inhuman eyes.

Before he could scream—

Khach…

His head was no longer on his shoulders.

Roar...

A thunderous roar echoed through the skies.

One of the men screamed,

"L-Lion..."

The atmosphere turned sinister. The scent of blood filled the air. And atop Vinod's lifeless body stood a majestic beast—its mane dancing in the wind, its eyes burning like fire.

The very air seemed to bow in his presence.

Roaaar...

Another earth-shattering roar—and then the beast stepped toward its next victim.