The sky was weeping-miserably, angrily-as if mourning the cruel injustice that fate had inflicted upon them. Thunder cracked through the air like a scream from the heavens, and the wind howled with a fury that shook the world. The balcony doors banged repeatedly against the walls, flung open by the storm's wrath.
Sumitra was lying lifeless on the wet floor. The heavy rain was continuously drenching her already soaked body.
Amidst the chaos, a young servant girl entered the chamber. She wore a black Rajasthani ghagra and choli, with a maroon dupatta draped around her head and shoulders. Her bare feet padded silently on the cold floor. The door had already creaked open when she arrived, as if inviting her into something foreboding.
"Baai sa? Hum andar aa jayein, baai sa?" she called softly, standing hesitantly at the threshold.
(Translation:"Baai sa? May I come in, Baai sa?")
There was no reply-only the roar of thunder.
"Baai sa? Aap andar hain?" she asked again, her voice trembling slightly.
(Translation: "Bai sa? Are you inside?")
Still, no answer.
Stepping in cautiously, her anklets jingled faintly as she took hesitant steps into the room. It was empty-eerily empty. Silence loomed, not the peaceful kind, but the kind that carried weight... as if something had happened... or was about to.
She looked around in confusion, searching for any sign of her mistress.
"Areh, yeh baai sa kahan chali gayi? Bahar bhi nahi thi..." she murmured under her breath, her brows furrowed in concern.
(Translation: "Hey, where has baai sa gone? She wasn't outside either.")
Gripping the sides of her ghagra tightly, she tiptoed toward the wardrobe. Before opening it, she called once more, "Baai sa, aap andar hain?"
(Translation: Bai sa, are you inside?))
No voice answered.
She opened the wardrobe, peering inside, scanning every corner. But it was empty. Confused and anxious now, she stepped back into the center of the room, her heart beginning to race.
Suddenly, thunder cracked again-so loud it felt like the sky was tearing apart. The glass jar on the side table fell to the floor. She flinched, letting out a frightened gasp, her hand flying to her chest.
"Oh God, what is happening? Why is the weather so dreadful today?" she whispered, shivering as a gust of wind whipped her dupatta around. She bent to pick up the broken glass from the floor.
And then-crash! A loud thunderclap split the sky.
The balcony doors slammed open violently. The storm had forced them ajar, and in the flash of a lightning strike, the sky lit up-her eyes fell on the balcony. And there she saw-
Sumitra.
Lying motionless on the rain-soaked balcony floor.
Her heart nearly stopped. For a moment, she couldn't move, couldn't breathe. And then-without thinking-she stood and ran. Rain lashed against her as she stumbled into the storm, nearly slipping on the wet floor. But she held the pillar nearby and again started running towards her.
"Baai sa! Baai sa! Kya hua aapko? Uthiye, baai sa!" she cried out, falling to her knees beside Sumitra.
(Translation: "Baai sa! Baai sa! What happened to you? Please get up, Baai sa!")
Sumitra was lying there unconscious, her face drenched, her hair stuck to her cheeks. Her body was still-too still.
The girl patted her cheeks, shaking her gently. "Hey Bhagwan... kya ho gaya baai sa ko? Uthiye, aankhein kholiye!"
(Translation:"Hey God... what happened to Baai Sa? Please get up, open your eyes!")
Panic consumed her. She tried again and again to rouse her, but Sumitra didn't respond. She patted her cheeks over and over, but she lay lifeless all the same.
Tears mixed with rain as the maid stood up and ran back inside, shouting for help. Her wet clothes clung to her skin, her feet slipping, the broken glass cutting into her foot. A sudden pain shot through her body and she hissed, but she didn't stop.
Outside the room, guards were stationed-men in black, armed and alert, shadows of power ready to hunt on command. As soon as they saw the maid-crying, soaked, breathless, with bruised and bleeding feet-they stiffened.
Without a word, they stormed into the room.
"Malkin? Malkin, where are you?" they called out, scanning every corner.
No answer. They only saw some blood on the floor. Their instincts took over.
They rushed to the balcony-and saw her.
Sumitra.
Lying motionless under the wrath of the storm.
One of the guards immediately turned and ran to fetch the daii (midwife), while others called for the household maids. Within minutes, old maids surrounded Sumitra, calling her name, patting her cheeks, trying to bring her back.
"Bahurani! Bahurani, uthiye!" one of the elderly women cried out desperately.
(Translation: "Daughter-in-law! Daughter-in-law, please get up.")
A guard hesitated, then knelt, extending his arms to lift her. But just then-
CRASH!
A sudden burst of energy surged through the air as the doors slammed harder than ever. A voice-dark, powerful, commanding-echoed through the balcony like a god descending from the storm.
"Don't you dare touch her!"
Zamindar Raja Veer Pratap Singh had arrived.
His voice sliced through the air like lightning itself. Everyone froze. Heads bowed instantly. The guard stood up, shaking.
"I-I was only trying to help-"
"Don't. Don't even think." Veer's eyes glowed with rage as he stepped forward, towering, wrathful.
"S-sorry, Malik-"
"Get out. NOW." he roared.
The guard fled instantly.
Veer's eyes then turned to Sumitra-his wife-lying lifeless on the floor. For a moment, he simply stared. His expression was unreadable, yet his gaze was fixed-unmoving-as though she were something sacred... something fragile... something meant to be locked away in a glass cage.
The others watched silently from the corners of their eyes. Why was he only staring? Why wasn't he doing anything?
Suddenly, his expression shifted. His jaw clenched so tight it seemed it might snap. His fists balled at his sides, his face hardening with an emotion darker than fury.
"What are you doing, Veer? Why are you just standing there? Do something!" came a shrill, commanding voice from inside.
It was his mother-Thakurain Damyanti Devi-standing at the doorway of the inner chamber, prayer beads clutched in her hands, lips tight with disdain. She hadn't stepped into the rain-not even to look at Sumitra. Her gaze was cold. The white strands of hair on her forehead showed her age, but there was no sympathy or fear of losing Sumitra anywhere on her face.
"Dekh, kahin mar toh nahi gayi?" she added venomously.
(Translation: "See, she hasn't died, has she?")
The workers and guards exchanged glances at her words, but did nothing.
"Arey, tu khada kyun hai, beta? Utha usse! Agar use kuch ho gaya toh humare vansh ka kya hoga? Hamara waaris chala jaayega uski wajah se!" Her voice trembled-not with fear for Sumitra, but for the unborn heir.
(Translation: "Hey, why are you just standing there, son? Pick her up! If something happens to her, what will become of our lineage? Our heir will be lost because of her!")
How laughable, isn't it?
Veer didn't reply as if he was not even listening to her. He didn't look at her. He simply walked forward, his eyes still locked on Sumitra's face. Then, with surprising gentleness, he scooped her into his arms.
As if she might break.
As if she were the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth.
He carried her inside, laid her carefully on the bed. The others followed but kept their distance, the weight of silence pressing against the walls.
Still staring at her, he gestured with one hand.
The young servant girl-the one who had first found her-stepped forward with her head bowed. But her steps were slower than usual because of the pain in her feet, still untreated. Blood was now trickling down her toes.
"What happened to her?" he asked, not taking his eyes off Sumitra.
"I-I don't kn-know, Malik..." she stammered, her fingers twisting in fear.
"Then how did she end up there?!" he bellowed, his voice like thunder.
"I-I swear, when I came... she was already in that state, Malik..." she sobbed.
His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more.
"Change her clothes. And do not move even an inch from her side until she wakes up. Do you understand?"
"Ji... ji Malik..." she replied with a trembling voice.
He didn't move. He just kept looking at Sumitra's pale, lifeless face-as if searching for answers.
Or maybe he already knew them.
He raised his hand again, and the rest of the people left in silence.
His mother approached, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Chalo, veer. Daai ko bula liya hai, woh dekh legi."
But without a word, he shrugged off her hand.
He turned to look at Sumitra one last time, then walked out.
Thakurain Damyanti's face fell with slight disappointment. Her son's rejection stung-but she said nothing. Her eyes briefly met the servant's before she turned and walked away.
Now, only Sumitra and the maid remained.
And soon, the daii entered the room.
______________
It was well past midnight. A heavy, dreadful silence hung over the palace like a curse. Not a single insect dared to chirp, as if even nature held its breath in terror. The only sound was the haunting hum of silence itself.
But amidst that unnerving quiet, from a far, shadowed corner of the palace-a scream tore through the dark.
Inside a dimly lit, grim chamber, a man was bound tightly to a heavy iron chair. Thick metal chains cuffed his wrists and ankles, digging deep into his flesh. His head hung low, almost lifeless, blood dripping from fresh, deep gashes on his swollen face. His blood-soaked clothes clung to his trembling body, the fabric stained dark red with dried and fresh blood alike.
His legs were submerged in a steel tub filled with water-no, not just water-ice-cold water.
Around him stood ten to fifteen men in all-black clothes, their faces emotionless, all in silence, each one a witness to unspeakable cruelty. One of them held a large, gleaming blade-its edge stained and wet. The room was lit only by the occasional flash of lightning through the cracked window. Every strike of thunder illuminated a tall shadow near the wall-standing motionless, his back turned to the tortured man.
Zamindar Raja Veer Pratap Singh.
He had a cigarette in one hand, his face utterly emotionless-a beast cloaked in human skin.
Without a word, he lifted one hand slightly. Four of his fingers of each hands were adorned with large silver rings, each one engraved with a wolf, each representing his victory over a territory.
One of the men walked over, silently handed him a loaded pistol, then stepped back and exited the room. Pratap Singh puffed the cigarette slowly, rolling the gun in his other hand dangerously.
Moments passed.
Then, still puffing on the cigarette, Pratap Singh moved. His boots echoed menacingly on the stone floor as he walked toward the bleeding man in the chair. He stopped just inches from him, staring down at the half-conscious figure with eyes that burned-not with rage, but with something darker... ownership.
Another nod. Another command. One of the guards stepped forward, this time holding a steaming mug.
Without warning, he splashed boiling water straight onto the man's face.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
A scream escaped the man's throat-muffled, hoarse, tortured. His skin sizzled as he convulsed in agony. His eyes fluttered open for a second, then shut tightly again from the unbearable pain.
Pratap Singh leaned down and crushed the burning cigarette into the man's face with force. The man hissed in pain. Pratap tossed the cigarette to the floor, folded his hands behind his back, and whispered in a low, chilling voice-his tone like venom seeping through ice,
"How does it feel? Good... or do you need more help?"
"Ma-maaf kar dijiye, ma-malik... galti ho gayi... p-please, p-please, don't kill me," the man begged, stuttering, each word a desperate gasp. His body was broken-yet his spirit still clung to the tiniest thread of hope.
(Translation: "F-forgive me, m-malik... I made a mistake... p-please, p-please, don't kill me.")
But Pratap Singh only smirked. A cold, bitter laugh escaped his lips as he straightened up again.
"Kill? But I am helping you," he said. "Just like you wanted to help my wife."
That was it-the truth behind this madness.
This man... was the same guard who had tried to help Sumitra. He hadn't touched her-yet still, he was burning under punishment for a mistake he had never even committed.
His only crime was showing kindness. And that had become the last and fatal mistake of his life.
"Ma-maaf kar dijiye, malik," the man pleaded again, sobbing now. His entire body shook uncontrollably-not just from pain but from fear, a deep, soul-breaking terror.
(Translation: "Fo-forgive me, malik")
But mercy had no place in Veer Pratap Singh's world.
He picked up a knife from the table-long, sharp, unforgiving-and without hesitation, sliced off two of the man's fingers. Blood spurted, and he casually tossed the severed flesh into a nearby acid tub.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH! NO-NO! Please! PLEASE!"
The man screamed louder now, writhing in agony, his eyes flooding with tears.
Pratap Singh tossed the knife away and grabbed the man by the hair, yanking his head up, forcing him to meet his gaze. His whole face was covered in blood, mixing with the tears that kept flowing from his eyes.
His voice was barely above a whisper, but it echoed with death.
"Maafi?In my reign, there is no forgiveness. Make a mistake-or try to-and suffer the punishment."
The other men stood frozen. Faces pale. Hands trembling. None dared move. None dared speak. Even they were horrified by what they were witnessing.
"And you made the biggest mistake of your life," he said, dangerously close to him.
"Try to touch what's mine," he hissed.
"How dare you try to touch her, you bastard!" he roared and slapped the man with such force that the chair nearly toppled over.
"NO ONE- I repeat, NO ONE-has the right to even look at what's mine-let alone touch it!"
He raised his gun-and shot the man straight in the thigh without any warning.
The man howled. Blood splattered the floor. His body jolted violently.
"She is mine," Pratap Singh growled. He fired the next bullet into the man's hand.
"Mine to love. Mine to touch. Mine to destroy," he growled, firing another bullet into the other hand.
He kept firing-again. And again. Both thighs. Then the shoulder.
No emotion flickered across his face. Only a sick, maddening possessiveness burned in his bloodshot eyes.
The other men exchanged terrified glances, their foreheads damp with the cold sweat of fear. Their master wasn't just cruel.
He was deranged. Obsessed. A monster who would burn the world if someone even breathed near what he called his own.
The man in the chair now hung limp. Blood pooled beneath him. His lips quivered, but no words came out. He was barely alive.
But Pratap Singh wasn't finished.
Another signal. One of the men stepped forward and flipped a switch near the wall.
And then-the room was filled with the crackling sound of electricity.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
The current surged through the wire into the metal tub.
The guard's body jerked violently. Screams turned into strangled cries as he convulsed uncontrollably. Steam rose from the water. His skin began to blister.
And Pratap Singh... laughed.
Not a chuckle. Not a grin.
But a maniacal, monstrous laugh-the laughter of a madman drunk on power.
He raised a hand again. The current was switched off. The man slumped forward.
Still alive.
Barely.
"Not helped enough?" he sneered. "Let's help you more."
Another jolt of electricity. Another round of screams.
Then again.
But this time, there was no sound.
No movement.
Only silence.
The man's lifeless body twitched once, then slumped into eternal stillness. But still, faint breaths escaped unevenly through his nostrils.
Suddenly, from the darkness, two eyes pierced through. All the men froze where they stood.
Veer Pratap looked toward the source. A creature with slow, deliberate steps-two red eyes-emerged from the shadows. It was a massive black wolf. A slow smirk played on Veer Pratap's face.
"Nox", he whispered, looking at the creature.
Suddenly, the beast lunged at the man tied to the chair. With one swift move, it tore off one of his arms. The sound of growling echoed through the room. Nox ripped open the man's body, tearing out his inner organs-but he did not eat them.
Pratap Singh didn't blink. He stared at Nox, his eyes still burning with fury.
"Remember this-whoever dares touch what's mine will suffer the same fate... or worse, Understood?" his voice thundered.
The remaining men, barely able to stand straight while watching Nox's merciless slaughter, replied in trembling, fearful voices:
"Jee... Jee, maalik."
Pratap Singh turned, the gun still clutched in his hand. As he walked away, he threw one final command over his shoulder. Nox stopped and backed away from the man-who was now in unrecognizable pieces-and padded toward his master, his muzzle dripping with blood.
Veer Pratap stopped in his tracks and said,
"Collect his remaining body parts... and send them to his mother. With a farewell card."
And with that, he disappeared into the shadows, Nox trailing behind him-leaving behind a room soaked in blood, fear, and the terrifying silence of death.
------------
๐ซWarning- Mature content ahead(Marital rape and sexual assault)
Pratap Singh walked through the dark hallway, his face filled with fury and something even darker. He reached a chamber and opened the door with great force. The gate burst open.
Inside the chamber, Sumitra, now conscious, sat on the bed with her head resting against the bedrest. The maid sat beside her on a chair, head bowed low. At the sudden noise, both jolted and looked at the man standing before them, whose face reflected nothing but pure rage. Without a word, the maid hurried out with trembling lips and shivering legs.
Sumitra looked at him with fearful eyes and clutched the duvet tightly in her fists.
He walked toward her with quick, heavy steps and stood in front of her. She began to shiver under the intensity of his gaze.
"Enough of your talking session with him?" he said, and she immediately looked up at him with teary eyes.
She didn't respond, and tears began to stream down her face. Seeing her state, he seemed to understand something. He ran a hand through his hair and suddenly, in anger, dropped to one knee on the bed beside her. She shifted away slightly, still gripping the duvet.
"You still haven't forgotten him?" he whispered dangerously.
She immediately looked down.
He screamed and snatched the duvet from her hands, throwing it onto the floor. He kicked the side table violently, sending the water jug crashing onto the ground. She trembled at his sudden outburst, crawling back slowly with her hands, trying to distance herself.
He grabbed her hair in his fists and roared, "I'll teach you today how to forget someone."
Yanking her hair, he stood up and walked to the door, slamming it shut and locking it.
She began trembling even more, but her fear had no effect on him.
"No-no-no-no, please no," she cried, trembling in place.
He turned to look at her, and with furious, hurried steps, walked back and grabbed her by the shoulders.
"Please, no," she pleaded helplessly, but there was no mercy in his eyes.
He yanked her body onto the bed forcefully.
A loud scream escaped her lips as she fell onto her back. Tears streamed down her face.
He unbuttoned his shirt and threw it to the floor, revealing his bare chest. He jumped onto the bed and hovered over her, slamming his lips onto hers in fury, devouring her lips with urgency.
He was kissing her like a hungry man. She continuously tried to remove his weight from her body, but he still pressed himself harder against her despite knowing that she was pregnant with his child. He was sucking her lips harshly and biting them hard, which made blood ooze from her lips. She was still trying to push him away, but he held her hands tightly in his fists. After kissing her senselessly, he left her lips for a while, when she suddenly bit hard on his shoulder, which made him stumble a little. She took the opportunity and suddenly walked out of the bed, but he was fast enough and grabbed her hair from behind in his fist, pulling her towards him harshly, which made her fall onto the bed on her back.
A loud scream escaped her mouth because of the sudden impact.
โAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!โ
โBhaagkar kahan tak jaogi, Bulbul? Jahan jaogi, wahan mujhe paogi,โ he whispered dangerously while kissing her jaw and neck.
โKyunki main tumhari naso mein bas chuka hoon zehar ki tarah, jo tumhe barbaad kar dega aur tumhare saath barbaad ho jayega,โ he whispered into her skin, which made her shiver even more.
โPl-please, please, donโt do this. Please,โ she pleaded with him, tears continuously flowing from her eyes.
โIโve warned you, na, Bulbul? Didnโt I? But you didnโt listen to me, did you?โ he said angrily and pressed his lips against hers again while she moved her head from side to side to escape from his torture.
He was kissing her, biting her lips, and pressing himself more onto her.
He finally left her lips and stood on his knees, with both his legs on either side of her. He was fuming with anger while looking at her, who was crying badly. But her cries had no effect on him.
โPl-please, donโt do this,โ she pleaded while joining her hands in front of him, tears continuously flowing from her eyes.
โPlease, I-I am pregnant. Pl-please, donโt do this,โ she pleaded with him, her breathing uneven, while he simply looked at her.
โOh, Bulbul,โ he said and hid his face in her hair, inhaling her scent and grabbing her breasts in his hands and squeezing them.
โWhy are you so addictive, Bulbul? Your begging like this makes me crave you even more,โ he whispered into her hair like a psychopath, while she squeezed herself in disgust at his touch.
โLook how beautiful you are looking in my arms. My Bulbul, only mine,โ he said with a smirk on his lips, moving a little away from her hair and looking at her face, which made her fume with anger.
She suddenly spat on his face and shouted angrily, โI am not yours! I am only my Shravanโs Rooh, not your Bulbul. You can break me, you can have authority over my body, but you will never enter into my heart. NEVER.โ
Hearing her words made him fume with even more anger.
He angrily wiped the spit from his face and punched the wall behind her hard, which made her shiver in fear.
โShravan, Shravan, Shravan! AHHHHHHH! Why always Shravan? Why do you always choose him? Why? Why?โ he shouted in rage and punched the wall like a maniac.
"Because I love him. Because I love my shravan. I can never be yours. You are not a human, you are a monster, a disgusting monster, you only know how to destroy lives but my shravan knows how to give life to others just like the way he gave me, you can kill me but you can never remove him from me. He is living in me and will always live in meโ, she was saying this while looking directly into his eyes.ย
โLove him? Huh? But look where you are right now, under me,โ suddenly he said while grabbing her jaw tightly in his fist.
โI know, darling. I know that you also love me the way I do. I know you also crave my touch on your body whenever I am near you,โ he said while roaming his hands under her dress, touching her breasts and roaming his eyes over her with a slight tilt of his head. โI know this heart races when I touch you, when I look at you.โ
A bitter laugh escaped from her mouth at his words, which made his smirk disappear instantly.
โFor you? This heart beats only for him. ONLY for him, and till the day I die, itโll beat only for him. You are nowhere near my heart and can neverโโ
She was cut off in the middle of her words when he slapped her hard across the face, making her face turn to the other side.
Tears continuously flowed from her eyes.
But when she looked at him, her whole body turned pale.
He was running his hands through his hair like a maniac and moved out of the bed, hitting the side table harshly with his legs. It felt like he was a psychopath who had lost consciousness and could do anything at that moment.
She shivered.
She knew this look.
She had seen it before.
She knew what kind of person he was.
โNo, no, no, no, please, no,โ she said, trying to move away from there while looking at his face.
But he suddenly jumped onto the bed and hovered over her, grabbing her hands in his.
โYou are mine. Only mine. Yes, yes, you are mine,โ he said while laughing and gripping her hands tightly in his fists.
And again, he pressed his lips against hers and started sucking them.
"I won't let you ever think about him again, Bulbul," he said angrily; with one hand, he tore her dress completely and began sucking and biting her neck like an animal. She wept bitterly, but he paid no heed to any of her pleas.
He took one of her breasts into his mouth and began to suck on it over the cloth, then moved just as quickly to the other. She was struggling to push his weight off her body when, suddenly, he twisted her hands so violently that the sound of a bone snapping echoed through the room.
"Ahhhhhhhhh... Maaaaaaaa..." she screamed in excruciating pain, but it had no effect on him. He suddenly let go of her breasts, pulled the belt from his trousers, wrapped it around her hands, and forcefully tore the clothes she was wearing underneath. She was trapped in a horrific nightmare from which no one could save her.
Every person in the haveli, every servant, could clearly hear her screams echoing through its walls, yet no one was able to save her from the torture she was enduring. Some cried silently out of pity, unable to bear the sound of her suffering, while others simply turned away and ignored it as though her pain meant nothing to them.
But amidst that muffled helplessness, someone was grieving with her. Someone was silently crying with her, feeling every scream, every sob, every moment of her unbearable pain. Someone who was tied in heavy chains was crying with her.
He pulled down his pants, positioned the head of his penis at the opening of her vagina, andโwithout any warningโthrust it forcefully inside.
"Ah... no, no, no, please, my baby... my baby, please don't do this, ah..." She was crying out for the child growing within her; she feared not for herself, but for the harm that might come to her babyโbecause she was already dead long ago, yet in the darkness, she worried only about her sole hope:
Her child.
He showed her no mercy, thrusting into her like a starving dog. When it seemed there was nothing left to be done, she collapsed, going limp. Even then, he continued to thrust into her. She was looking at the ceiling above as she was feeling nothing at that moment as if she was trapped in some nightmare.
He was hungrily kissing her and biting her while thrusting inside her like a hungry animal. His eyes showed no mercy on her-nor on the baby growing inside her. He was drunk in his possession that the girl's cry whom he called his love had no effect on him
"Next time Don't you dare to think about anyone else. Every thought, every cell in your brain, every vein in your body, every damn blood cell, there should be only one name and it should be mine...only mine.....", he groaned and started thrusting more harshly like an animal.
He was thrusting violently without even care about her condition-without even care about her baby. Her body was jolting with the thrust. Her eyes still glued to the ceiling and tears continuously flowing from them.
"Don't you" Thrust "dare" thrust "to" thrust "think" thrust "about him" again "thrust".
With a final thrust he released inside her. And looked at her without any emotion on his face.
"If you ever think about him again, remember-I could do more than this, and I don't need to prove it to you. You already know what More I can do," he whispered, gripping her cheeks harshly in one hand. She lay motionless beneath his touch.
The man who claimed her as his showed no mercy. He said he loved her, but was that truly love? To him, she was nothing more than an object he had won in some twisted game. There was no compassion in his heart-not for her, not even for the child she carried. His soul was drowning in possession, jealousy, insecurity, and obsession.
He pressed his lips to hers-lips torn and bleeding. Blood oozed onto his mouth, and he wiped it away with his thumb.
Without another word, he rose from the bed, dressed, and left without so much as a glance in her direction.
The gate slammed shut with a violent thud. She lay there, tears streaming silently, staring blankly at the ceiling.
The young maid entered the room hurriedly, and upon seeing her in that state, her own tears began to fall. She rushed forward, unclasped the belt that bound Sumitra's wrists, covered her with the duvet, and wrapped her in a side embrace, crying softly.
"Baii sa?" she called gently, but Sumitra did not respond, her eyes still fixed on the ceiling. The maid began to stroke her arm slowly.
"Baii sa, sab thik hai... aap chinta mat karo, sab thik ho jayega," she whispered, though in her heart she knew there would be no end to this suffering.
(Translation: "Baii sa, everything is fine... don't worry, everything will be alright.")
Suddenly, Sumitra let out a dry, broken cry. Her body began to shake uncontrollably, and she sobbed with her eyes wide open, as though trapped in a nightmare.
She screamed in agony, and the maid could only hold her tighter, murmuring, "Shhh, Baii sa... chup ho jaiye, please chup ho jaiye... sab thik ho jayega."
(Translation: "Shhh, Bai Sa... please be quiet, please be quiet... everything will be fine.")
But nothing worked. Sumitra clutched the bedsheet with her bruised wrists, crying harder. Blue marks stood out against her torn skin, and the injuries on her neck and body told of the brutality she had endured. The maid stepped back, her hand covering her mouth as tears streamed down her cheeks. She hurried to the wardrobe and fetched a clean maxi dress.
Pulling the duvet away gently, she froze.
Blood-fresh, bright red-was flowing from Sumitra's lower body.
Her breath caught. She looked from the blood to Sumitra's tear-streaked face and back again. The blood did not stop.
"Hey Bhagwan..." she whispered through trembling fingers. She ran to fetch cotton and tried to stem the flow, but it was useless.
"Ab main kya karu?" she muttered to herself, panic rising.
(Translation: "What should I do now"?)
"Bass thoda sa rukiye, Baii sa... main abhi aati hu," she said before running out.
(Translation: "Just wait a little, Baii sa... I'll be right back.")
Inside the room, Sumitra's cries echoed. Her eyes remained open and unblinking, her body convulsing in pain.
Her fate had always endured brutality, but this-this was a cruelty that went beyond flesh.
The door creaked open again. An old woman of about eighty shuffled in, her pure white hair tied back, her wrinkled face etched with worry. Her hands shook as she approached, the young maid right behind her.
"Daii maa, please do something! Look, the blood is not stopping, and Baii sa is shivering so much... please, Daii maa, do something!" the maid pleaded.
For a moment, the old woman could only stare-at Sumitra's body, at the blood, at the bruises.
"Daii maa, what happened? Please do something!" the maid begged, shaking her slightly. The old woman blinked, returning to herself.
"Go and cover her upper body with a blanket," she instructed. Kneeling beside Sumitra, she began wiping the blood, but it only flowed faster. Sumitra's cries grew heavier.
Then the bleeding surged, accompanied by sharper waves of pain. Sumitra's body shook, her vision blurring as agony gripped her.
"Hey Bhagwan... how is this happening? It's just her eighth month," the old woman murmured, horrified.
"Kya hua, Daii maa?" the maid asked anxiously. But the midwife's focus stayed on Sumitra, whose broken wrists reached desperately for something to hold.
(Translation: what happened, daii maa?)
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Sumitra screamed.
"Go fast and call the other midwives!" the old woman ordered. The maid rushed out but halted at the doorway, startled by a tall man dressed in all black, a gun in his hand.
"Baii-baii sa... she-she-" the maid stammered.
"Shhh... Bela, calm down," he said, cupping her cheeks. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. He wiped her tears. " Do whatever she said and rest I'll handle,okay?", She nodded and hurried away, and he walked off in the other direction.
The guard soon stood at the entrance to Veer Pratap's chamber.
"Come in," came the voice from inside.
The guard entered with his head bowed. Veer Pratap sat with a glass of alcohol, not looking up. His eyes were fixed in a particular direction-a large portrait.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Malik, Malkin is in labour. The midwife says the birth has to be done today because her condition is worsening," the guard reported.
Veer Pratap met his eyes briefly, then waved him away. He stood from his place with the glass in his hand.
Draining his drink in one go, he walked toward the large framed portrait on the wall. His fingers brushed the canvas as if it were delicate silk.
In Sumitra's chamber, three or four elderly midwives-each in her seventies or eighties-moved urgently. Two stayed near Sumitra, who was screaming in pain.
"Bela, cover her upper part," the midwife instructed sharply. Without delay, Bela obeyed, struggling to make her wear a loose shirt because Sumitra was in so much pain, her body slowly giving up.
"This is not the time, Chandrakala... it's only her eighth month," another said.
Bela held her hand. Sumitra's grip tightened, but Bela didn't flinch; she kept soothing her with comforting words. She listened to the midwives' conversation, tears falling freely as she watched Sumitra struggling for her life.
"I know, but her condition is worsening. If we don't act now, we won't be able to save either of them," Chandrakala replied, trembling, sweat beading on her brow.
They gripped Sumitra's hands, one midwife circling her belly in an attempt to soothe her.
"But what if, in the attempt to save both, we're not able to sa-" The midwife stopped mid-sentence at the sound of a roaring voice.
"Don't you dare complete that sentence," he roared, striding into the room. All the women lowered their heads in fear.
He stepped toward Sumitra, who was crying in pain, her eyes tightly shut.
He held her hand and squeezed it gently, whispering softly, "Don't worry... nothing will happen to you, Bulbul..."
Then he leaned closer to her ear and whispered with a smirk, "Not until I am alive... because your suffering is not done yet. There's more than what you've seen in your life till now."
He stood still, watching her writhe in pain. Her eyes opened for a moment and met his-with nothing but hatred and fear.
"I want her alive-or none of you will see the next sunrise," he roared dangerously.
All the midwives exchanged fearful glances, but none spoke.
"Understood or not?" he barked again, his eyes burning.
"Jii-jii Ma-Malik," they all replied in trembling voices.
He glanced at Sumitra again, pressed a hard kiss on her lips, and left.
Bela quickly closed the door. Her heart pounded-not from his warning, but from fear for Sumitra's condition.
She went to Sumitra, holding her hand tightly and soothing it with her other hand.
"Calm down, Bai sa, you will survive this too. We are with you, don't be afraid," she murmured, but Sumitra kept clenching her hands in pain, her head tossing side to side in desperation.
"Bela, go and bring the hot water and cotton," Chandrakala instructed. Bela nodded immediately and rushed to the bathroom.
Chandrakala moved to Sumitra's side, circling her womb with both hands, watching carefully. The other women continued their work.
Sumitra clutched the bedsheet tightly, her eyes squeezed shut from the pain.
"What happened, Chandrakala?" one of the midwives asked.
"She's too weak, and it seems the baby's head is entangled in the umbilical cord," she said fearfully. The other midwife gasped and covered her mouth in horror.
"Oh my God... now what will we do, Chandrakala?" she asked, watching Sumitra's eyes slowly closing.
She went to her side, caressing her face. Sumitra's breath grew uneven, her eyes heavy, though she tried to keep them open.
"Ankhein band na karo, Bahurani, nahi toh bahut mushkil ho jayegi," she whispered while stroking her face.
(Translation: "Don't close your eyes, Bahurani, or else it will become very difficult.")
"Ple-please sa-save my ba-baby, plea-please," Sumitra murmured, her lips trembling.
"Don't worry, Bahurani, we are trying our best. Just don't close your eyes, please-please stay with us," she coaxed.
Bela returned with the hot water and cotton, placing them on the table before hurrying back to Sumitra's side.
Chandrakala kept massaging Sumitra's womb in slow circles.
"We have to do something now," she said, moving toward Sumitra's legs with trembling steps.
"Bahurani, push slowly," she instructed, dipping cotton into the hot water and pressing it gently to soften the opening.
Sumitra tried to push, clutching Bela's hand tightly. As she pushed, her head tilted back, her face and body drenched in sweat, her skin turning red.
"I-I can't," she cried, her eyes closing.
"You can, Bahurani! Please don't close your eyes!" Chandrakala urged, circling her hands more firmly on her womb.
"Bai sa, please don't close your eyes-try to push, for your baby, Bai sa, please-please push," Bela begged desperately, caressing her face.
"Push, Bahurani, please push!" Chandrakala said, wiping away the blood flowing from her core.
Sumitra pushed again with a loud scream. With that push, dark fluid mixed with water broke from her womb.
"Just like this, Bahurani, again, push!" Chandrakala encouraged, while another midwife massaged her womb to guide the baby's position.
Chandrakala slid one finger inside to widen the opening, then added another.
"Now push, Bahurani," she said, stroking her thigh gently.
Sumitra pushed after a pause, gasping for air.
"I can see the head-yes, just like this, push, Bahurani," Chandrakala remarked, removing one finger while keeping the other in place. Above it, the baby's head was now visible.
Sumitra pushed again, and slowly, the whole head emerged. But her energy was fading, and her eyes began to close.
"No, no, no, Bahurani, don't close your eyes-we're so close! Please don't give up!" Chandrakala cried desperately, removing her finger.
Bela tried to keep her awake, her own hand stained red from Sumitra's grip.
Then Chandrakala and the others gasped. The baby's face was still wrapped in the cord, its skin turning red.
"Bahurani, open your eyes, please! Otherwise we can't save your baby! Bela, keep her awake!" one midwife urged.
"Bai sa, please get up-please!" Bela pleaded, slapping her cheeks softly.
"Hey Bhagwan... like this we will lose both. Bahurani, please open your eyes-for your baby!" Chandrakala begged, carefully trying to free the cord.
Sumitra's eyes opened slowly, a scream escaping her lips.
"Yes, Bai sa, please-stay with us!" Bela said, her voice trembling.
"Bahurani, one last try-please, push!" Chandrakala instructed. With a deep breath, Sumitra pushed, clutching Bela's hand with all her strength while another midwife held her other hand.
With that push, the head came fully out, then the right shoulder, but the baby got stuck again.
"Bahurani, for the last time-don't give up now! Push with all your strength!" Chandrakala urged, holding the baby's half-exposed body and finally freeing the cord from its neck without breaking it.
She managed to release it, but the baby's skin had already turned blue.
Sumitra gave one final, hard push, jerking on the bed with a thud, and the baby came out completely.
Blood still flowed.
"Scissors," Chandrakala ordered. Another midwife handed them to her, and she cut the umbilical cord, then wrapped the baby in a towel.
The newborn was completely blue, drenched in blood.
"It's... it's a g-girl, Bahurani," Chandrakala stammered, glancing at Sumitra, who lay with her eyes closed-but a faint smile touched her lips when she heard it.
Tense glances passed among the women.
"Dai... Dai Maa, why... why is the baby not crying?" Bela whispered, her lips trembling as she looked at the lifeless child in her hands.
Chandrakala and the others stared at the silent baby, her blue skin unmoving.
Sumitra's eyes fluttered open. She stared at her child, her face pale, mind numb.
Chandrakala patted the baby's back again and again, but nothing worked.
"Wake up, baby, please wake up," she begged desperately, but still there was no response.
She held the baby in one hand, opened her lips with the other, and tried to give mouth-to-mouth breaths-but nothing.
Tears filled her eyes, but Sumitra continued to stare at her baby without blinking.
"Dai Maa... what ha-happened?" Bela murmured, looking from Chandrakala to Sumitra, who lay like a statue.
"I... I am so sorry, Bahurani," Chandrakala whispered.
The other women gasped, covering their mouths.
The silence in the room hung heavy, like a breathless earth. All the women present held their breath in their throats, their hands flying to their mouths with loud gasps. Chandrakala was holding the baby girl in her arms, tears streaming down her eyes. Sumitra lying frozen in her place. She didn't even blink-just stared at her baby, as if she had lost her world all over again. As if the tiny spark in her life had once more betrayed her.
Bela shook her gently. "Bai sa?" Her voice broke; she had no words. She couldn't soothe her, for the pain Sumitra was enduring had no balm. Bela only cried, looking at Sumitra, who was half-lying on the bed.
Suddenly, without blinking, Sumitra rose from the bed. Her body was half-dead, drained and weak, blood still flowing from her womb-but she cared for nothing. Bela held her hand.
"Bai sa, please... abhi aapki haalat theek nahi hai," she tried to explain, but Sumitra did not listen.
With Bela's support, she staggered towards Chandrakala. Her legs shook uncontrollably, but she did not stop.
She halted in front of Chandrakala and raised both hands to take her baby and without a moment's hesitation, she took the child in her arms. Her legs trembled, but Bela held her tightly.
"Me-meri ba-bacchii... ye-yeh so kyun ra-rahi hai? Uth-uthao na is-isko... uth-uthao!" she murmured, lips trembling, as her tearful eyes shifted between her baby and Chandrakala. The rest of the women pressed their palms to their mouths, crying silently.
"Uth-uthao na is-isko!" she pleaded again through her tears, looking at Chandrakala. But Chandrakala turned her face away, covering her mouth with her saree.
"Ba-bai sa... yeh... yeh ab na-nahi uth-uthegi," Bela whispered, holding Sumitra tightly, refusing to let her fragile body fall.
"Na-nahi uth-uthegi? Ky-kyun na-nahi uth-uthegi? Huh?" Sumitra's lips trembled as she clutched her baby tightly to her chest, her mind slipping into a haze of disbelief.
She kept staring at the child in her arms. The baby's skin had turned blue by now, her tiny head fallen lifelessly to the side.
"Be-because... she-she is de-dead, Bai sa," Bela whispered shakily, her eyes shut tight, her head bowed low.
Sumitra looked at Bela with confused, vacant eyes. Bela did not meet her gaze, but still held on to her, keeping her from collapsing.
"De-dead?" Sumitra repeated with trembling lips, her voice breaking, as her eyes drifted back to her baby.
"She is dead."
To be continued.......
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