Destined To Devastation

By Naina Mishra

It was Amavasya, the night without a moon. Darkness pressed down like a living thing. Three children huddled together, hearts pounding, when a shadow emerged — a vengeful spirit, moving with silent fury.The eldest, Rushil, stepped forward. His voice trembled, “Mom… it was me. Please… don’t hurt them. They were too young… forgive us…”The spirit tilted her head slowly, eyes glowing with a cruel, unyielding light. Rage had consumed her. Love no longer existed in that hollow form.“Run!” Rushil shouted to his younger siblings, but the spirit’s hands were faster. They wrapped around him, choking him as he struggled, kicking, gasping for air. Darkness crept over him, and memories of the past flooded his mind — everything he had witnessed, every heartbreak he had endured.

                                              Tejas, their father, had always been ambitious, bright, and hardworking. Yet his childhood was hard — a father betrayed by a friend, drowning sorrow in alcohol, and a boy forced to work from dawn to dusk just to pay for his school fees. Milk delivery, tutoring, endless revision — Tejas had never given up.He grew up, went to an esteemed engineering university, graduated, and built a successful career. He married Rani, a kind and generous woman, and they had three children: Rushil, Ratna, and Vir. Life seemed good. They moved into their own home, financial stability secured, laughter filling the rooms.

But envy and jealousy lurked nearby. Rani’s younger sister, Kamala, was sweet in appearance but bitter in spirit. Even family smiles hid envy and malice.After childbirth, Rani’s mind fractured. Her generosity and kindness were paired with paranoia. She became suspicious of Tejas, convinced he was having affairs. She called constantly, followed him, and harassed his colleagues. Relatives encouraged her quietly, delighting in the family’s unraveling.Tejas lost his job and faced months of unemployment. Divorce became inevitable. Though he worried about his children, he saw no other choice. The eldest, Rushil, remained close to him only because of circumstance — but his heart was with his mother and siblings. He secretly planned that once he graduated and earned enough, he would live with his mother and care for his siblings himself.

                                        The divorce was painful. The younger children went with Tejas, the eldest tried to maintain balance, hoping to support everyone in the future. But months later, tragedy struck: Rani ended her own life, leaving her children shattered.The house of laughter became silent. The air itself seemed heavy with sorrow.A year later, Tejas remarried, hoping to move on. But on Amavasya, darkness came alive. A chill swept the house. The children felt it first — the cold that heralds something unnatural.And then she appeared. Rani.

Her eyes burned red. Her hair floated like shadowed rivers. She was no longer the mother they knew — she had become a spirit of rage and sorrow, a force of vengeance.Tejas’s voice shook. “Please… leave me… you’re gone… let me live…” But she advanced, knife glinting in the dim light. “I will never let you belong to anyone else,” she hissed. “You are only mine… only mine… hahahaha!” Blood spattered across the floor. The children screamed in terror as the spirit slammed the door shut, trapping them inside.

                                   When Rushil regained consciousness, fear gave way to determination. He grabbed the holy ancestral sword, heart pounding, mind sharp. His siblings’ lives were in his hands.He saw the spirit moving toward them, reaching out. Without hesitation, he drove the sword through her chest. She froze, yet her hands still reached for the children.

“Don’t blame him,” she whispered, her voice fading. “He didn’t know… he is the only one left in your world.”The children cried, pleading, “Mom… don’t leave us! Please stay!”Her form shimmered, a sad smile breaking through the rage. “I can’t… my sweethearts… everything… has an end.”And then she vanished, leaving only a lingering warmth and sorrow.

Her final words echoed in their hearts:

“Clapping is never done with one hand alone… who will know the other half of the story?”

Rushil held his siblings close, tears streaming. The terror of the night remained, but so did the realization — love, loyalty, and courage endure, even when vengeance walks among them.

And as Rushil swore to care for his siblings, he promised silently: once he graduated and earned enough, they would live together — safe, united, and honoring the mother who had loved them fiercely, even beyond death.

By Naina Mishra