Panting and running down from the valley, her eyes hazed and blurred, she stumbled on the uneven terrain, the world around her a chaotic blur. There is no hope of survival, yet something deep within her refuses to surrender, driving her forward, urging her to fight against the relentless odds. Each breath burned her lungs, each step felt like it might be her last, but she couldn't stop.

As she moved forward, she kept turning back, her eyes wide with terror, convinced she could hear footsteps gaining on her. Chased by someone or something, it wasn’t clear—shadowy figures seemed to close in with every glance over her shoulder. Her heart pounded so loudly it drowned out all other sound, a frantic drumbeat in the silent, oppressive night.

The ground beneath her feet was treacherous, rocks and roots reaching up to trip her, but she pushed on, her determination fierce and unyielding. The only thought driving her was to reach the village, to find sanctuary, somehow, some way. The lights of the village seemed impossibly far, a faint glimmer of hope in the distance, taunting her with their promise of safety.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, tears streaming down her face, mingling with sweat and dirt. She could feel the presence behind her, dark and malevolent, closing the distance with every desperate stride she took. The fear was almost paralyzing, but she couldn't afford to give in. Not now. Not when she was so close. She pushed herself harder, faster, every muscle screaming in protest, her only thought to outrun whatever nightmare pursued her.

“Yes, just a few more steps, just one more jump. That’s the territory of the village.” Her heart surged with a fleeting sense of joy, a dangerous spark that might lead her into more trouble. Her legs began shaking uncontrollably, her head spinning with disorienting dizziness. She moved ahead, each step heavier and more labored than the last, as if the ground itself were trying to pull her down.

“Why does it feel like she’s gone? Should I turn back? Should I glance behind? Why do I feel so heavy all of a sudden? What is this chill? Why do I feel like I’m being frozen? “

Panic gripped her heart, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. The joy she felt a moment ago was replaced by an overwhelming dread. The surrounding air grew colder, an unnatural chill that seeped into her bones, making every movement a struggle. Her breath came in short, frantic gasps, each one visible in the freezing air. The world around her seemed to close in, the darkness pressing down on her from all sides.

She could feel the presence behind her, closer now, an oppressive force that made her skin crawl and her muscles tense. Her vision blurred with tears and exhaustion, but she couldn’t stop. Not now. The village lights were just ahead, so tantalizingly close, yet seemed to drift further away with every faltering step she took.

Her mind raced with fear and doubt. “What if she’s right behind me? What if I turn back and she's there? But what if she’s gone? What if I’m running from nothing?” The questions pounded in her head, amplifying her terror. Every shadow seemed to move, every rustle in the underbrush a sinister whisper.

Summoning the last reserves of her strength, she forced herself onward, her feet barely lifting off the ground. Her body felt like lead, her limbs numb from the cold and fear. The chill intensified, creeping up her spine, turning her blood to ice. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out all other sounds.

“Where is she?” The thought echoed in her mind, a mantra of fear and desperation. She could feel herself slowing, the icy grip of whatever pursued her tightening. But she couldn’t give up. Not now. Not when she was so close.

With a final, desperate burst of energy, she hurled herself forward, towards the welcoming lights of the village. Each step was a battle, but she fought with everything she had, driven by the hope that somehow, some way, she could escape the nightmare closing in on her.

“So, Grandma, did she reach the village in time?” A childish voice resonated through the dimly lit bedroom, filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. After a few seconds of silence, a gentle snoring sound began to echo in the room.

“You fell asleep again, Grandma,” said Carter, a hint of disappointment in his voice. He gazed at his grandmother's peaceful face, the lines of age softened by the glow of the bedside lamp.

“Good night, Grandma,” Carter whispered, his voice tender as he leaned in to kiss her gently on the forehead. The warmth of her skin against his lips was comforting, a small reminder of the love and stories she shared.

As he cuddled up in her arms, seeking the familiar security, the room seemed to hold its breath. Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, adding a touch of mystery to the night. Shadows danced on the walls, cast by the lights of the lamps, as if the very room were weaving its own tales.

Carter closed his eyes, the lingering suspense of the unfinished story mingling with his dreams. In his mind, he saw the woman running, felt her fear and determination, and imagined the lights of the village growing brighter as she pushed forward. He squeezed his grandmother’s hand, silently promising to hear the end of the story another night.

The house settled into a deep, restful silence, broken only by the harmonious sound of their breathing. In the embrace of his grandmother’s arms, Carter drifted into sleep, his dreams filled with the same courage and hope that drove the woman towards the safety of the village.

“Year 1980, Feb 1

The colors of this morning resembled a burning orange of a bonfire with a hint of a delicate pink, the sky blushing with the first light of dawn. It painted the world in soft hues, casting a warm, gentle glow over the sleeping village nestled in the valley. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers and the promise of a new day.

The tops of the mountains weren't visible, as if they wore a crown of clouds and fog, adding a touch of mystery to the serene landscape. The village is the best place to spend your winters, with its picturesque charm and tranquil beauty. Everything is foggy, the thick mist enveloping the houses and trees, creating a surreal, dreamlike atmosphere.

As the sun slowly rose, the pink tones deepened, blending with shades of gold and orange. The village began to stir, its inhabitants waking to the tranquil beauty of the morning. The fields, still dusted with a light frost, sparkled in the early light, and the rooftops glistened with dew.

The people here are hardworking and helpful, always ready to lend a hand. They are hospitable and caring, welcoming strangers with warm smiles and open hearts. Birds began to sing, their melodies weaving through the cool air, adding a harmonious soundtrack to the picturesque scene. The peacefulness of the morning was almost tangible, wrapping the village in a comforting embrace, as if time itself had slowed to savor the moment.

For those who paused to admire it, this pink-hued dawn seemed to hold a certain magic, a promise of hope and serenity that would linger in their hearts long after the sun had fully risen.

And I am really happy to say that I belong here.”

Said the very first page of the diary, that had seen the dust of time. Its pages were mostly torn and crumbled, the edges ragged and yellowed with age. Each page whispered tales of the past, the ink faded, but the words still legible, preserving the memories of a time long gone. The cover, once a rich and supple leather, was now worn and cracked, bearing the scars of years of handling and neglect. Yet, it retained a certain majesty, adorned with a carved lion's face that seemed to gaze out with timeless wisdom and silent strength.

The lion’s face, intricately detailed, was both fierce and noble, its eyes appearing almost lifelike, as if it watched over the contents of the diary with a guardian’s vigilance. The leather was smooth in some places, rough in others, hinting at the countless hands that had held it, the stories it had witnessed, and the secrets it had kept. The diary exuded an aura of mystery and reverence, a relic of a bygone era, holding within its fragile pages the essence of lives lived and moments treasured.

“Hey Carter... Carter, can you hear me?” Rita's voice rang out, sharp and urgent.

“Yes, Rita, I can hear you. Can you please quit screaming and tone it down?” Carter replied, his voice soft and calming, trying to ease her agitation.

Carter sat at a sturdy, old study table, the wood polished smooth by years of use. His hands loosely held the weathered diary, fingers gently brushing over the crumbled edges of the pages. Sunlight streamed through the large window, filling the room with a warm, golden glow. Dust particles danced lazily in the beams of light, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to the scene.

With a careful hand, Carter turned the page, the faint rustling sound almost like a whisper from the past. He leaned back in his chair, the soft creak of the wood echoing in the quiet room. Outside, the day was bright and inviting, but inside, Carter was enveloped in the intimate, timeless world of the diary.

“Why are you here? Let's go, to the mall. Everyone's been waiting for us there. They planned a movie too,” informed Rita, her excitement bubbling over.

“Can you please not be so excited about the movie thing? It's not your first time going to a movie, is it?” Carter asked, taunting her with a playful smirk.

Rita rolled her eyes, her enthusiasm undimmed. “Oh, come on, Carter. It's not about the movie; it's about spending time together. Plus, it's a new release!”

Carter sighed, closing the diary with a gentle snap. “Alright, alright. Give me a minute to get ready,” he said, standing up from the study table. He cast one last glance at the old, weathered diary, feeling a pang of reluctance to leave its mysteries behind.

Rita beamed, already half out the door. “Hurry up, slowpoke! You don't want to miss the previews, do you?”

Carter chuckled, shaking his head as he followed her. “You and your previews...” He grabbed his jacket, the sunlight still pouring through the window, casting long shadows in the room.

                                                                                 ********

“Why are you always neck deep in your books?” asked Rita, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and exasperation.

“Oh, these,” Carter replied with a fond smile, gently patting the diary in his hand. “They are my best friends. And they talk to me. So, I like talking to them.”

Rita raised an eyebrow, her expression softening. “Your best friends, huh? Sounds a bit lonely.”

Carter shrugged, his eyes drifting back to the diary for a moment. “Not really. Each book has a story, a voice. They share their secrets with me, their dreams and fears. It’s like stepping into another world.”

Rita sighed, shaking her head with a small smile. “You and your books. Well, come on, bookworm. Let’s give your friends a break for a while and go have some fun.”

Carter chuckled, closing the diary with a gentle snap. “Alright, alright. Lead the way, Rita.”

As they left the room, the sunlight continued to bathe the space in a warm glow, the diary lying quietly on the study table, waiting for Carter’s return.

“Who are you!?” said the actress on the screen, pointing her pistol at the villain's head.

“You dare, darling. I am someone you might already have a taste for,” the villain replied with a sinister smile.

The theater was silent, everyone captivated by the intense scene unfolding on the screen. Carter and his friends sat on the edge of their seats, the tension palpable. The villain's words hung in the air, adding an eerie chill to the room.

Rita leaned over to Carter and whispered, “This movie is even better than I expected.”

Carter nodded; his eyes fixed on the screen. “Yeah, it’s really gripping.”

As the scene progressed, the actress and villain engaged in a heated exchange, each word dripping with menace and defiance. The suspense was almost unbearable, drawing the audience deeper into the story.

With a gunshot, the scene shifted to a beautiful place that looked exactly like the village described in the diary. The serene landscape with the mist-covered mountains, the delicate pink and orange hues of dawn, and the tranquil beauty all mirrored the vivid imagery Carter had read earlier. It was as if the diary had come to life on the screen. The transition was seamless, transporting the audience from the tension of the previous scene

to the peaceful yet mysterious village.

The diary just described a beautiful village surrounding a mountain, with no specific details about the location. As Carter sensed some similarities, he tried to recall what the diary read further.

“Year 1980, Feb 7

Somehow, I became one with my heritage. It's been long since I've seen farms, let alone worked in them. I am enjoying my life with no regret of leaving the city lights of Purab [author's note: Purab is an

imaginary city]. It feels like I was meant for this. I never thought that I could've been good at farming.

Since my breakup, I was lost in my own world, but now I feel refreshed. I think, if the village allows me, I’ll settle down here.

 Since I've been here, I've taken a tour with the locals, my cousins, of course. They took me here and there, but nothing very special, except a statue of a monk, which does not have a temple or a pedestal, and, oddly enough, it does not have a head. When I asked about the statue, it was explained to me in a serious tone about ancient invaders who looted this peaceful village. They couldn't move the statue but broke its head. Fascinating. This statue might have superpowers, who knows? But it doesn’t matter; my life here is really peaceful. And who cares about the backstories.”

Carter's mind raced as he recognized the scenery. The diary's description had been so specific about the statue, and now, seeing it visually brought a sense of déjà vu. He leaned closer to Rita and whispered, "This place... it looks exactly like the village from the diary and you noticed that headless statue, it is exactly the same as described."

Rita, slightly confused but intrigued, glanced at Carter. "Really? That's a coincidence.”

Carter nodded, his curiosity piqued. "Could be."

But he thought to himself “Is it a mere coincidence?”

 The scene continued to unfold, showing the village inhabitants going about their morning routines, the same peacefulness and hospitality described in the diary. Birds sang melodiously in the background, adding to the serene atmosphere. The camera panned to a small, cozy house at the edge of the village, its windows reflecting the soft morning light. Ending up in a dark room.

As the story wrapped up, the protagonist stood on a hill overlooking the village, the sun setting behind the mountains. The final scenes were filled with a sense of closure and hope, tying up the narrative threads beautifully. The credits began to roll, accompanied by a gentle, uplifting score.

The theater lights slowly came back on, and the audience started to stir, stretching and gathering their belongings. Carter and his friends remained seated for a moment, absorbing the movie's ending.

When the movie finally ended, Carter and his friends left the theater, the evening air cool and refreshing after the

intensity of the film.

Veer broke the silence. "That was one hell of a movie. The plot twists were amazing!"

“Indeed, it was! Sam has missed it all.” Ambar spoke.

 Rita turned to Carter, a curious look in her eyes "So, what do you think?”

Carter was deep in his thoughts, “Yeah, it was a good movie.” And continued, “By the way, Ambar, are you free this break?”

 Ambar gave a thought for a second and said, “Other than my preparation for entrance exams, I have deliberately applied for several jobs, so I might end up, in the interviews for them. Why do you ask?”

 Carter knew about Ambar’s hardworking nature, “I will be leaving for my grandmas in a few days, if you want you can join us.”

“I would pass Carter. I am sorry to turn it down.” He immediately replied.

 Carter wasn’t amazed by the refusal, “Oh! No, not a big deal, no need to apologize. What about you, Veer? Are you joining us?”

 “Not this time Carter, I know you guys will miss me, but my father has enrolled me in some military-based self-defense sessions. So, I can’t leave the city for several days.” Veer explained the position he was in.

 Rita chuckled before saying, “It’s uncle again. Actually, he is correct for doing this to you. Look at your fat belly, it’s wobbly. How do you even get up once you fall?”

 “It’s not funny, Rita.” Veer was dispirited.

“Cut it out, Rita.” Carter intervened.

“Veer, calm down, she is just trying to annoy you.” Said Ambar.

Carter, tried arguing with, as he knew he is easy to manipulate and change his decision. “It’s not a problem to Veer, but you’ll be missing on so much. Like you know, my grandma’s cooking. But it's really sad that you can’t join us.” And he chuckled.

 “Carter, I am so not falling for your trap this time. My father will be so mad if I did not, do this session. He’ll definitely kill me, for sure he’ll do it this time.” Veer argued.

Everyone went laughing, and said their goodbyes to each other.

However, Carter wasn’t able to shake of the memories of those similarities, from the movie and the description of the diary.

Carter shrugged, though his mind was racing with possibilities. "I'm not sure. But I have a feeling we need to find out more about the diary. There might be more to it than we initially thought."

As they walked to their cars, Carter couldn't shake the feeling that the diary held more secrets waiting to be uncovered. And now, with the movie adding another layer of mystery, he knew he had to delve deeper into its pages to uncover the truth.