Part H: The Tantrik’s Warning. The Forbidden Haunts: A Dare into the Darkness – Paranormal Adventure Thriller | Chapter 1: Unraveling the Mystery of Rajasthan’s Bhangarh Fort | The Best Thriller Novel
Chapter 1, Part H: The Tantrik’s Warning
The house smelled of warm spices, old wood, and something distinctly comforting—the kind of scent that makes a place feel like home. The storm had left the air crisp and fresh, and sunlight streamed in through the wide windows, casting golden patches on the polished floor.
Alan and Adib, still reeling from the horrors of Bhangarh, now found themselves in a completely different world—one where the ghosts of last night seemed almost… distant.
The living room was large but cozy, lined with dark wooden furniture, handwoven cushions, and shelves stacked with old books, framed photographs, and tiny brass idols. The ceiling fan whirred softly above, a lazy contrast to the chaos they had barely escaped.
At the center of it all was Ava’s father, a tall man in his fifties with a deep, commanding voice, yet a warmth that made Alan instantly like him. He sat in a wooden rocking chair, gesturing wildly as he told a story from his younger days.
Alan sat beside him, genuinely intrigued, his eyes alight with amusement.
Ava’s Father (grinning): “And that’s when the cow chased me for five whole minutes! I swear, I have never run so fast in my life.”
Alan chuckled. “Man, I’d pay to see that.”
Ava’s father slapped his knee, laughing heartily, and the entire room seemed to vibrate with the energy of it.
Adib, meanwhile, was fully immersed in a plate of steaming samosas, barely paying attention. Every now and then, he would grunt in approval, too busy enjoying the crispy, spicy goodness to contribute to the conversation.
Across the room, Ava watched silently.
Her gaze flickered between Alan and her father, her expression unreadable.
She had never seen her father warm up to someone so quickly.
But it wasn’t just her father—it was her grandmother, too.
In the kitchen, Alan had wandered in, drawn by the mouthwatering aroma of something frying.
Ava’s grandmother, an elderly woman with silver hair neatly tied back, stood by the stove, rolling out dough with practiced ease.
She turned as Alan approached, eyeing him up and down before handing him a fresh, hot paratha.
Ava’s Grandmother (smirking): “You’re too thin. Eat.”
Alan grinned, taking a bite. His eyes widened instantly.
Alan: “Oh my God. This is better than anything I’ve ever had.”
Ava’s grandmother chuckled, patting his cheek affectionately.
Ava’s Grandmother: “You talk too much, but you eat well. That is good.”
From where she stood near the doorway, Ava exhaled, pressing her lips together.
Something about the scene made her uncomfortable—not in a bad way, but in a way she couldn’t quite explain.
Alan was… fitting in too well.
She had known him for a little over a day, and yet here he was, laughing with her father, bonding with her grandmother, and looking like he had always belonged in her home.
And that was the part that unsettled her the most.
Ava swallowed, suddenly feeling out of place in her own house.
Why did it feel like Alan belonged here more than she did?
Later that evening, the house grew quieter. The distant honking of cars from the city mixed with the occasional sound of crickets.
Alan sat alone on the rooftop, leaning against the railing. The night breeze was cool, carrying the faint scent of rain from earlier. The city lights stretched into the distance, flickering like dying embers.
Footsteps approached.
Ava.
She leaned against the railing beside him, her eyes focused on the night sky. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then—
Ava (Softly): “You were great with them today.”
Alan smirked. “Yeah? Your grandma might’ve adopted me.”
Ava chuckled. “Don’t get too comfortable.”
A pause.
Alan exhaled, looking up at the stars. “It almost makes you forget, doesn’t it?”
Ava frowned. “Forget what?”
Alan turned to her, his face shadowed under the moonlight.
“That we’re supposed to be dead.”
The words hung between them like a curse.
Ava’s throat tightened.
Ava: “We survived.”
Alan’s gaze darkened. “For now.”
Ava shivered, hugging herself. The memory of the ghost woman’s twisted smile flashed in her mind.
Was it really over?
Before either of them could say more, Ava’s grandmother called them downstairs.
The living room was dimly lit, the only sources of light being the flickering glow of an old kerosene lamp on the table and the occasional crackle of lightning outside. The storm from earlier had faded, leaving behind a haunting silence that settled heavily in the air.
Ava’s grandmother, now seated in her favorite wooden chair, traced her fingers along the rim of a brass cup filled with warm milk. Her silver hair, loosely tied back, made her wrinkled face look even more solemn. She inhaled deeply as if summoning the ghosts of the past before she began speaking.
Ava’s Grandmother (in a hushed tone):
"There was a time when Bhangarh Fort was not a ruin but a kingdom—a place filled with life, wealth, and ambition. But with power… comes curses."
Alan and Adib exchanged glances. They had heard plenty of Bhangarh’s ghost stories before, but something about the way Ava’s grandmother spoke sent a shiver down their spine.
She continued, her voice growing more distant, almost as if she were lost in the story herself.
Ava’s Grandmother:
"There was a queen, Rani Ratnavati, known for her unmatched beauty. Many men sought her hand in marriage, but one man—Tantrik Singhia—was obsessed beyond reason. He was a powerful black magician, and when he realized the queen would never be his, he cursed the entire kingdom."
She paused, staring into the darkness beyond the room.
"A terrible storm arrived the night after the curse was cast, just like tonight. The queen and her people perished, and the fort… became a prison for wandering souls. But among them, there was one woman—one whose story is rarely told."
Alan leaned forward, his heartbeat quickening. The way Ava’s grandmother spoke—she wasn’t just telling a legend. She spoke like she had seen it. Lived it.
Ava’s Grandmother (lowering her voice):
"There was a young woman—a mother—who lost her child the night the curse took hold. In the chaos, she searched for her little boy, running through the dark corridors of Bhangarh, calling his name. But when she finally found him… he was already gone."
The air grew colder.
Ava hugged her arms to herself, as if trying to shake off a sudden chill. Adib swallowed hard.
Ava’s Grandmother (softly):
"The pain drove her mad. The loss twisted her soul. And when she died that night, she did not leave this world—she stayed behind, forever searching… forever mourning… forever angry."
The room was deathly silent. Even the wind outside had stilled as if the entire world was listening.
Then, Alan spoke.
Alan (narrowing his eyes):
"How do you know that the woman saw her child die?"
Ava’s grandmother stiffened.
Alan leaned forward. Something about her words had been too specific. Too personal.
"You weren’t there… were you?" Alan continued, his gaze locked onto hers. "What’s the relation? What are you hiding from us?"
Ava’s grandmother’s fingers tightened around the brass cup. For the first time, she looked shaken.
Ava and Adib both turned toward her, waiting for an answer.
The old woman sighed heavily, looking down at the floor. A shadow of grief crossed her face.
Ava’s Grandmother (whispering):
"Some ghosts… are not just legends."
The room felt smaller all of a sudden.
Ava’s breath hitched. Alan’s mind raced.
What the hell did she mean by that?
Ava’s grandmother’s words hung in the air like an unshakable fog. Some ghosts… are not just legends.
Alan felt a chill creep down his spine, but he wasn’t the type to let it go. There was something she wasn’t telling them.
Alan (leaning in):
"What do you mean? That woman—she's not just a ghost, is she?"
Ava’s grandmother didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she took a slow sip of her warm milk, her hands trembling slightly around the brass cup. When she finally spoke, her voice was weighed down with something deeper than fear—guilt.
Ava’s Grandmother (softly):
"The woman… she wasn’t just another spirit trapped in Bhangarh. She was different. More dangerous. More vengeful."
Alan and Adib exchanged glances. Ava, who had been quiet until now, slowly shook her head.
Ava:
"Nanu… you’re hiding something from us. You knew about this woman before we even told you what happened at the fort. How?"
Ava’s grandmother closed her eyes for a long moment. Then, with a heavy sigh, she set her cup down on the table and spoke.
Ava’s Grandmother:
"Because… she was my grandmother."
Ava’s entire body stiffened. Alan and Adib froze.
Alan (shocked):
"Wait… what?"
Ava’s Grandmother:
"She was alive when the curse took hold. She was the one who lost her child that night. And when she died… she became something else. She became trapped in that place, forever searching for her lost son, attacking anyone she thought was responsible for his death."
The room felt colder now. The kerosene lamp flickered as if responding to the intensity of the story.
Adib (swallowing hard):
"And… you never tried to stop her?"
Ava’s grandmother slowly shook her head.
Ava’s Grandmother:
"There is no stopping a spirit that strong. She has been feeding on pain, on suffering, for centuries. If you have angered her, she will not stop until she has you."
The three of them felt the weight of her words.
Alan clenched his jaw. His heart pounded in his chest.
"“What should we do?” Alan asked, his voice deadly serious.
“Sorry, what do you mean?” Ava’s grandmother inquired.
“We went there last night and saw the woman,” Alan replied.
Ava’s grandmother finally looked at him, and for the first time since they arrived, she truly looked afraid.
Ava’s Grandmother:
"There is only one person who can help you now…"
She glanced toward the old wooden clock on the wall as if she were making a difficult decision.
Ava’s Grandmother:
"You need to go see Tantrik Mahadev."
Alan, Ava, and Adib left immediately. The streets were empty, the town eerily silent. Even though the storm had passed, the air felt thick, heavy, and charged with something unnatural.
Ava’s grandmother had given them directions to the Tantrik's house, deep within the woods on the outskirts of the town. It wasn’t far, but every step they took felt like a mistake—like something was watching them.
Adib (muttering):
"I swear to God, if this turns into some exorcist movie shit, I’m running."
Ava nudged him, but she didn’t laugh. No one did.
They reached a crumbling old temple, half-buried in the jungle, the stones cracked with age. Smoke rose from the entrance, the scent of burning herbs thick in the air. The flickering glow of firelight spilled from within.
Alan stepped forward first.
Inside, an old man with piercing eyes and long matted hair sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by dark red markings drawn in chalk. He wore a simple robe, his fingers tracing symbols in the air as he chanted in a deep, unsettling voice.
The tantrik did not look up when they entered. But the moment Alan took another step forward, he stopped chanting.
His cold, sunken eyes snapped to Alan.
For a long moment, he just stared, as if looking directly into Alan’s soul. Then, his lips curled into a knowing smile.
Tantrik Mahadev (low, gravelly voice):
"You have brought her with you."
Alan felt his blood turn to ice.
Ava (confused, whispering):
"Who is he talking about?"
The tantrik slowly lifted one bony hand and pointed.
At Alan.
Tantrik Mahadev:
"She has already marked you."
Alan's breath caught in his throat. His pulse pounded against his skull.
Adib grabbed his arm. "Alan… what the hell does he mean?"
The tantrik did not answer. Instead, he reached behind him and pulled out a small brass container filled with dark, shimmering liquid.
Tantrik Mahadev:
"Drink this. Rub it onto your skin. If you don’t… she will come for you tonight."
Alan took the bottle, his hands shaking.
Ava’s grandmother was right. They had awakened something. And now, it wasn’t just about Bhangarh anymore.
It was about survival.
The air inside the dimly lit temple grew heavier as if the walls themselves were pressing inward. Shadows flickered unnaturally, twisting and shifting in the corners. The brass container in Alan’s hands felt cold—too cold—like something more than just liquid rested inside it.
Alan swallowed hard, glancing at Ava and Adib. Ava’s face was tense, her hands clenched into fists. Adib, usually the first to crack a joke, looked pale under the flickering torchlight.
The Tantrik’s piercing eyes locked onto Alan’s.
Tantrik Mahadev (low, ominous voice):
"She has already placed her mark on you, child. If you do not act now, you will not live to see another sunrise."
Alan's stomach twisted. A part of him wanted to reject all of this, to believe it was some elaborate mind game. But deep inside, he knew. Something was watching him. Something was waiting.
Alan (hesitant, voice low):
"This… this will stop her?"
The tantrik did not smile. He did not blink.
Tantrik Mahadev:
"No. Nothing can stop her. But this… this will make her hesitate."
Ava shivered, her breath coming out in short gasps.
Ava (whispering):
"Alan… drink it."
Alan looked down at the shimmering black liquid inside the brass container. The thick, viscous substance didn’t look like anything he had ever seen before. It clung to the sides of the cup, moving almost as if it were alive.
Alan (muttering to himself):
"God help me."
Then, before he could second-guess himself, he brought the cup to his lips and drank.
The moment the liquid touched his tongue, Alan choked. It burned, not in the way alcohol burned, but something deeper—like fire running through his veins. His body jerked violently, his limbs going stiff.
Ava and Adib lunged forward to steady him, their voices blurring together. The temple spun around him, the firelight flickering brighter, and then—
Darkness.
For a moment, Alan felt as if he were floating in a void. The weight of the world vanished, and an eerie silence wrapped around him.
Then, suddenly—
Whispers.
Faint at first, then growing louder.
It was her voice. The ghost woman. She was here.
Woman’s Whisper (echoing, sinister):
"You think this will save you?"
Alan tried to move, but something held him down—like invisible chains locking him in place. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t scream.
Then, a flash of white light.
The whispers vanished.
The world snapped back.
Alan gasped for air, collapsing to his knees on the cold stone floor. His body was soaked in sweat, his heartbeat a deafening drum in his ears.
Ava and Adib knelt beside him, their faces etched with worry.
Adib (shaking Alan’s shoulder):
"Alan! Are you okay, man?!"
Alan nodded weakly, his throat too dry to speak.
The tantrik watched silently, his expression unreadable.
Tantrik Mahadev (softly, as if testing him):
"You have seen her."
Alan lifted his head, staring at the old man.
Alan (hoarse, voice shaking):
"She spoke to me. She’s still coming."
The tantrik did not look surprised.
Tantrik Mahadev:
"She will never stop. But you have bought yourself time. Now… we must complete the protection ritual."
The Tantrik retrieved a small wooden bowl filled with an eerie red paste, its strong scent burning their nostrils. He motioned for them to remove their shirts.
Alan, Adib, and Ava hesitated.
Ava (nervous, but trying to joke):
"This isn’t some crazy tattoo thing, right?"
The tantrik did not laugh.
Tantrik Mahadev:
"Your bodies are exposed. You are vulnerable. This will shield you."
He dipped his fingers into the thick paste and began drawing strange symbols across their skin—Alan’s chest, Ava’s back, Adib’s arms. The moment the paste touched Alan’s body, he felt a strange warmth, like something wrapping around him, shielding him.
But when the tantrik drew the last symbol on Alan’s forehead, a sudden gust of wind howled through the temple.
The fire trembled. The walls creaked.
And then—a shriek.
A horrible, bloodcurdling scream filled the air.
It was her.
She knew what they were doing.
And she was angry.
Tantrik Mahadev (firmly):
"She senses your defiance. But do not fear. She cannot harm you—yet."
Ava and Adib clutched each other, their eyes wide with fear.
Adib (nervous laugh):
"Yet?! What the hell do you mean, yet?!"
The tantrik turned back to Alan, his expression dark.
Tantrik Mahadev:
"She is not done with you. If you wish to survive, you must do more than just defend yourselves."
Alan’s blood ran cold.
Alan (slowly):
"Then… what do we do?"
The tantrik took a deep breath.
Tantrik Mahadev:
"You must return to Bhangarh. You must face her."
Silence.
Ava took a step back, shaking her head.
Ava (whispering, terrified):
"No… no way. Do you want us to go back? After everything?"
The Tantrik’s eyes gleamed in the dim light.
Tantrik Mahadev:
"You must finish what you started. Or she will never let you go."
Alan clenched his fists. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.
The ghost woman wanted them dead.
And now, they had no choice but to go back.
To Bhangarh.
Where she was waiting.
To Be Continued...
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