chapter 2, part 2

chapter 2, part 2

Scene Shift

The scent of incense hung heavily in the air, a spiritual cloak over the room.

Ajay sat on a cushion across from Ms. Geeta, a woman who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to his inner turmoil.

Everywhere he looked, holy Hindu symbols adorned the walls—a small Ganesh idol in a corner, and framed prints of Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva.

The air crackled with a quiet, ancient energy.

He recounted his terrifying ordeal, the words tumbling out in a rush: the museum, the red eyes, the blackout, the horrifying river of blood, and the entity that had gripped him.

He gestured to his throat, where the Kirtimukha chain rested.

"Geeta garu, I truly don't understand," Ajay pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation. "What is happening to me? Those red eyes... the blackouts... I saw that same demon-like entity from the museum. I lost my job, and this Kirtimukha chain has been on my neck since that night. I've tried to get rid of it, but it just keeps coming back."

His gaze was fixed on hers, a silent plea for understanding.

"When I searched, it suggested it might be possession. I don't know what to do."

Geeta's eyes, deep and knowing, held his gaze.

"Okay, Ajay. Calm down."

Her voice was soft and reassuring, yet it held an undercurrent of firm authority.

"Let me see."

She already sensed a disturbed energy emanating from him, a faint ripple in the spiritual flow of her home.

Slowly, she extended her hand and clasped his wrist.

The moment her fingers touched his skin, a visceral shock coursed through her.

It wasn't just cold or hot; it was a wave—an unknown energy, ancient and immense—that surged into her own body, making her teeth ache.

Her hand recoiled instantly, as if burnt, pulling away from him with a sharp gasp.

"What's wrong, Geeta garu?" Ajay asked, his voice cracking, his hope dwindling at her reaction.

She stared at her hand, flexing her fingers, her face a mask of profound bewilderment.

"It's... I don't know. There's something... I can't understand."

"You realized something, didn't you?" Ajay's voice rose, with a desperate edge to it. "No, no, this can't be!"

He leaned forward, his hands clasped together.

"Geeta garu, please, can I stay here at your place for the night? Under your observation? Please don't say no. I can't risk my parents' lives. What if I become possessed, or become out of control in the middle of the night?"

Geeta looked at him, her gaze piercing, weighing his plea.

A full minute stretched, filled with the hum of the air conditioner and the frantic thumping of his heart.

She knew. She had faced similar cases, though perhaps none quite like this one.

He was right; she had to help him.

Finally, she nodded.

"Yes, you can."

A wave of profound relief washed over Ajay, making his shoulders sag.

"Thank you, Geeta garu," he breathed, the words barely audible.

Scene Shift

Hours drifted by, settling into a quiet rhythm.

The initial panic in Ajay had subsided into a nervous anticipation, a fragile peace found in Ms. Geeta's spiritual sanctuary.

He wandered through the main hall, his gaze drifting over the walls.

There were childhood photos of Geeta, her youthful face beaming.

Interspersed among them were pictures of her solved cases: faded photographs of old houses, and grateful families.

His eyes landed on a particular frame: an old lady with a gentle, wise smile standing beside a teenage girl who bore a striking resemblance to her.

"Geeta garu," Ajay began, turning to her as she walked into the hall. "Whose picture is this? Your grandma?"

Geeta came to stand beside him, her gaze softening as she looked at the photo.

"Yes, that's my grandmother," she replied, a hint of reverence in her voice. "She had abilities like mine. She was the one who taught me how to understand and use my abilities."

"So, every member in your family has these abilities?" Ajay asked, a new curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Like... yours?"

Geeta shook her head gently.

"Not really. My grandmother had abilities, and I do too, but the rest of my family doesn't. I don't know how someone gets these kinds of abilities. Maybe a boy or girl has to be born under a special, holy nakshatram or at a specific sacred time, or maybe it's purely God's choice."

"Hmm, I get it now," Ajay murmured, absorbing the information.

"Lunch is ready," Geeta said, a warm smile touching her lips. "You can come and join me."

"Yes, thank you, Geeta garu," Ajay replied, feeling a faint blush at the formality.

"You don't need to call me Ms. Geeta or Geeta garu," she chuckled softly. "We're almost the same age. Just call me Geeta."

Ajay nodded, a genuine smile finally reaching his eyes. "Okay, Geeta."

They moved to the dining table, the simple meal laid out between them.

As they ate, a comfortable silence settled, broken only. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air.

"Geeta," he ventured, "you're staying here all alone? I mean, aren't you afraid? According to what I read online, you face a lot of vengeful spirits."

She looked at him, her smile unwavering, radiating a deep sense of conviction.

"I'm doing all this because it is my dharma," she explained, her voice steady and calm, "and to help people like you. I believe in the gods, in dharma, and in my abilities—the gifts of the gods. I've faced many challenges, and the gods have always saved me and helped me. So, no, I'm not afraid."

Ajay smiled, a sense of awe mingling with his relief. "Okay, I get it now!"

Scene Shift

Later that night, at 8:30 PM, after a quiet dinner, Geeta pointed to the large, comfortable sofa in her main hall.

"Ajay, you can sleep here tonight," she instructed, her voice calm and steady. "I'll be watching you from my room through the camera."

Ajay nodded, a flicker of relief in his eyes.

He lay down on the sofa, trying to settle his nerves, and soon drifted off to sleep.

Geeta retreated to her room, the soft glow of her monitor now the sole focus of her attention.

Hours passed, the feed showing Ajay sleeping soundly, the hall quiet and still.

Everything seemed fine until 11:30 PM.

Suddenly, the lights in the main hall began to flicker violently, casting shadows that danced like phantoms.

Geeta leaned closer to the screen, her brow furrowing.

On the monitor, Ajay's sleeping form jolted.

He wasn't lying down anymore; he was sitting upright on the sofa, his head bowed.

Then, slowly, as if sensing her gaze, he lifted his head.

His eyes, even through the grainy camera feed, were unmistakable: glowing, malevolent red.

He looked directly at the camera.

The feed died instantly.

The screen went black.

Geeta gasped, a cold dread seizing her.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. What just happened?

She knew, instinctively, that this was no ordinary malfunction.

She bolted from her room, rushing towards the main hall, her bare feet silent on the marble floor.

She burst into the hall to find Ajay lying on the sofa again, seemingly asleep, his breathing soft and even.

Her eyes darted to the ceiling.

The small, discreet camera she had installed was crushed inward, its lens smashed.

A wave of immense, ancient energy rolled off Ajay, a palpable force that vibrated through the air, chilling her to the bone.

It felt as if something incredibly powerful had just awakened and settled within the young man.

Her gaze fell back to the sofa.

He wasn't there.

The sofa was empty.

Her head whipped around.

She saw him, a shadowy figure, standing just at the entrance of the main hall, facing away from her, as if preparing to step into the corridor beyond.

"Wait, Ajay!" Geeta called out, her voice sharp with alarm. "What are you doing? Where do you think you're going?"

Ajay turned, and the voice that answered was not his.

It was deep, guttural, resonating with an otherworldly power, a voice that seemed to vibrate in her very bones.

"You don't have to understand, human! You don't have to!" He took a step further, towards the corridor. "You are not like others! You are a pure soul who helps others with your abilities without asking much. People like you are rare in this Yuga! Keep doing what you are doing. The gods' blessings will be with you. But get out of my way!"

Geeta's mind raced, processing the chilling words, the impossible voice.

This entity... it knows about me.

It acknowledges my purity, my service to Dharma.

It's not a vengeful spirit, not an evil presence.

Its power is immense, yes, but its words carry a strange resonance, and a divine authority.

'Pure soul'... 'Gods' blessings'... This is not a demon.

Her hands, though trembling, instinctively began to form a mudra of profound respect, not of defense.

"Who are you?" Geeta asked, her voice regaining its composure, infused with a newfound, reverent strength. "And what do you want? Why have you possessed Ajay?"

Ajay turned fully to face her.

His eyes, in the faint ambient light, glowed an intense, blazing red.

He took a step forward, towering over her.

"I AM KIRTIMUKHA!!!"

The name exploded from him—a deafening roar that vibrated through the very foundations of the house.

The entire house began to shake violently, as if a sudden, localized earthquake had struck.

Books tumbled from shelves, framed photos crashed to the floor, and the remaining lights in the room flickered wildly, threatening to burst.

Then, as suddenly as it had arrived, the immense presence wavered.

Ajay's body stiffened, then sagged.

His eyes, still faintly red, rolled back, and he collapsed onto the floor, falling silent and still.

He was alive, breathing shallowly, but deep in an unconscious, profound sleep.

Geeta stood, trembling, but the tremor was now one of awe, not terror.

Her ears rang from the divine roar.

Her house was a mess, but she barely registered it.

Her gaze was fixed on Ajay's prone form.

Kirtimukha.

The name echoed in her mind, now with a different resonance.

The divine protector.

The devourer of ego.

One of Lord Shiva's ganas.

A shiver, profound and spiritual, ran down her spine.

This is not an evil possession.

Ajay has been chosen.

For what purpose, I can't yet fathom.

This is bigger than anything I've ever faced, a divine will at play within a human host.

Its power... it's beyond anything I could have imagined, but it's not destructive.

It's... awakening.

And it knew me, acknowledged me.

Her immediate fear morphed into a fierce, almost sacred, determination.

I have to understand this. I have to help him. This is not a curse, but a profound responsibility. Oh Lord Shiva, what is unfolding?

Scene Shift

The morning light, pale and uncertain, filtered through the windows.

Ajay jolted upright on the sofa, his eyes snapping open.

He blinked, disoriented, the soft fabric beneath him a familiar anchor.

Then, his gaze swept across the room.

Chaos.

Books lay scattered across the floor, an overturned potted plant spilled soil like dark blood, and framed pictures of Geeta lay shattered.

His eyes landed on Geeta.

She sat on a chair amidst the disarray, seemingly unfazed, engrossed in a stack of ancient-looking texts.

Sensing his gaze, she looked up, her expression calm, almost serene, despite the wreckage around her.

Ajay felt a chilling sense of déjà vu.

His mind reeled, grasping for memories of the night.

"What? What happened?" The words left his lips in a breathless whisper.

Geeta closed her book, setting it gently beside her.

"It's okay, Ajay. Calm down. Everything is fine. Just listen to me." Her voice was a steadying balm, but it did little to quell the rising dread in his chest.

"No, no," Ajay insisted, his voice cracking. He pushed himself off the sofa, his eyes wide with fear. "Something horrible happened last night. Tell me, what happened? Did I hurt you?"

He scanned the room again, a cold knot forming in his stomach.

Geeta took a slow, deep breath, her gaze unwavering.

She began to speak, her voice clear and measured, recounting the events: The flickering lights, the red eyes, his transformation, the impossible, booming voice, the shaking house, and the name that had echoed through the night. She explained the divine nature of the entity, the true identity of Kirtimukha—not evil, but a divine being, one of Lord Shiva's Ganas.

I’ve read all the Puranas related to Lord Shiva," she explained, a subtle passion in her voice. "Mainly the Skanda Purana — the Purana related to the god of war, Lord Kartikeya (also known as Murugan, Kumara, Subrahmanya, skanda), son of Lord Shiva.

The Skanda Purana also tells the story of Kirtimukha — the fierce guardian face created by Shiva himself. Kirtimukha is a protector of the good and the destroyer of evil, and he will never harm you, your parents, or any innocent beings. He stands as a guardian at the boundary between good and evil. So you don’t need to be afraid or panic." 

She looked directly at him, her eyes conveying both understanding and a profound sense of purpose. "You just have to understand why Kirtimukha has chosen you. I did what I could. Now, it's your turn, Ajay."

Ajay felt the words settle over him, heavy and impossible.

His breath caught in his throat.

The world seemed to tilt slightly, the details of the messy room swimming before his eyes.

He reached for his neck, his fingers closing around the cool metal of the Kirtimukha face chain.

He pulled it out from beneath his shirt, staring at the small, intricate carving in his palm for a long minute.

The guardian's fierce face seemed to stare back, issuing a silent challenge.

He swallowed hard, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

"I really don't understand what you're trying to say here," Ajay said, his voice barely a whisper, a tremor of despair running through it. "I just don't want to be trouble for my parents. I lost my job. I'm not helping my family in any way, and now this?"

A single tear welled in his eye, tracing a hot path down his cheek.

Ajay leaned forward.

"And what about that river of blood? In the vision... that night. And then... Kirtimukha 'chosen one,' 'dharmic warrior'?" He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed on Geeta.

Geeta sighed. The silence in the small room stretched, heavy and oppressive. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air.

"Ajay, maybe it's not what you think." She paused, her eyes meeting his, a deep concern etched into their depths. "Perhaps the Kirtimukha... is simply trying to warn you that something is about to happen in the future."

Geeta reached out, her hand gently resting on his arm. "You don't need to be afraid, Ajay," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Just try to understand Kirtimukha. Try to understand him."

Ajay's gaze lingered on the Kirtimukha face in his palm for another long moment, his chest heavy with a mix of fear, despair, and a dawning, reluctant curiosity.

He swallowed hard, then slowly, almost imperceptibly, nodded.

The terror was still there, but now it was mixed with a dawning, terrifying acceptance.

"Alright, thank you, Geeta," he murmured, his voice laced with genuine gratitude.

Her words, her calm certainty, had brought a strange, unsettling peace.

Hours later, after they had both eaten a quiet breakfast amidst the still-disordered hall, Ajay stood at her door, ready to leave.

"Don't forget," Geeta said, her hand resting lightly on his arm, her eyes earnest. "If you need any help, just call me."

Ajay nodded, a silent promise.

He turned and stepped out, the weight on his shoulders now different—no longer just fear, but the immense, incomprehensible burden of a divine purpose.

Scene Shift

The familiar scent of home greeted Ajay as he stepped back into his apartment.

He walked towards his room, the weight of his new reality a heavy cloak around him.

His mother met him in the hallway, her brow furrowed with concern.

"You look worried, Ajay. Did something happen last night at your friend's house? Why did you—"

Ajay cut her off with a quick, dismissive wave of his hand.

"It's all about finding new jobs, Mom, that's it. Everything's fine." He forced a strained smile he hoped was convincing.

His mother's expression remained unconvinced for a moment, but then she nodded slowly. "Alright then."

She walked past him, gently closing his bedroom door as she left him alone.

Once the door clicked shut, Ajay's forced composure crumbled.

He reached for the Kirtimukha face chain, pulling it out from beneath his shirt.

He stared at the ancient, fierce face. "What do you want from me, Kirtimukha?"

Meanwhile, in the main hall, Ajay's father watched his wife return from Ajay's door.

"What was it again?" he asked, his voice low.

Ajay's mother sighed, shaking her head. "You shouldn't have used such harsh words. He's trying his best."

His father's gaze drifted to Ajay's closed door, a complex mix of frustration and worry in his eyes.

He looked back at his wife. "I know," he replied, his voice softer now. "I want to see him successful too."

Later that night, at 8:30 PM, after dinner, Ajay bid his parents goodnight.

As he turned to head to his room, his father's voice stopped him.

"Ajay."

Ajay turned back, a question in his eyes. "What is it, Dad?"

His father simply looked at him, then gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. "Nothing. Goodnight."

Ajay returned the nod, a flicker of something unreadable in his own gaze, then went into his room.

He closed the door behind him and sat on his bed, his hand once again reaching for the Kirtimukha chain.

The small, carved face rested in his palm.

Geeta's words echoed in his mind: "Try to understand Kirtimukha, Ajay."

He lay back on his bed, closing his eyes, and soon, sleep claimed him.

Hours later, the digital clock in Ajay's room flashed 11:30.

The camera then shifted focus, showing Ajay's room.

His bed was empty.

The feed then cut to the open balcony doors.

On the balcony, Ajay stood, his back to the camera, his silhouette stark against the faint city glow.

Slowly, he turned his head.

His eyes, even from this distance, blazed with an unmistakable, incandescent red.

Without a sound, he shot from the balcony railing, a blur of motion streaking into the night sky at impossible speed.

End of Chapter 2, Part 2