Ravi stepped out of the bus, his eyes sweeping over the familiar landscape of Mokkapuram. The nostalgia was palpable, yet a chill ran down his spine as he turned his gaze to the legendary banyan tree at the village's edge. Ignoring the whispers of villagers who spoke of curses and spirits, "It's just an old tale," he muttered, forcing a smile.
Gathered with his friends, Ravi felt a surge of bravado. Arun, his childhood friend, grinned daringly, "Let's see if the stories are true. Who's with me?" The group exchanged nervous glances, but the thrill of adventure was intoxicating. They equipped themselves with flashlights, laughter masking the undercurrent of fear as they set off towards the forest.
Approaching the banyan tree, an unnatural chill settled over the group. Shadows danced in the periphery, and a sudden gust extinguished their flashlights, plunging them into darkness. Ravi felt his heart race as whispers filled the air, Lakshmi's name echoing like a lament. A figure emerged, hollow eyes locked onto him, its form flickering like a dying flame. He could hear [@ch_2]Arun[/@ch_2_d]'s voice, trembling, "Run!"
Ravi ran, the terror of the specter driving him forward. Behind him, a cry shattered the night—Arun's voice, cut off abruptly. Panic surged anew as they stumbled back into the village, breathless and shaken. The villagers' faces were grim as they gathered, searching the forest for Arun, but their efforts were in vain.
Ravi sat on the veranda, guilt gnawing at him. The villagers whispered of curses and vengeance, their eyes flicking to the forest's edge. Haunted by nightmares, he knew he couldn't stay. As he prepared to leave, an elder approached, Elder Ramu, his voice a rasp, "The shadows never forget. They always return."
Years passed, but the memory of that night lingered with Ravi. He never returned to Mokkapuram, the village's secrets remaining locked in whispers and shadows. The banyan tree waited, its silent vigil unbroken, as if expecting the return of those who dared to challenge its mystery. The villagers carried on, their lives entwined with the tales of old, knowing that some stories were best left untold.
