Chapter 3: The First Glimpse

As the bus halted near the giant iron gates, a chill crept down everyone’s spine. The fort, even more intimidating up close, loomed like a dark sentinel from another time. Its massive, black stone towers pierced the cloudy sky, and its thick, moss-covered walls whispered forgotten tales. The once-mighty fort now stood in eerie silence, wrapped in a shroud of mystery and decay.

Waiting at the entrance were two local guides. One was an old man with a flowing white beard, a wooden staff in his hand, and deep, searching eyes. His name was Baba Dayaram. He stood with a strange stillness, almost as if he were a part of the fort itself. The other was a younger, cheerful man named Veeru, who instantly took a liking to the kids.

“Welcome to Raigarh Fort!” Veeru said with a smile. “Today, you’re going to step into history.”

“Or into something else entirely…” Kabir murmured to Aarav.

Aarav didn’t reply. He quietly turned on his camera.

Baba Dayaram stepped forward and addressed the group in a calm but deep voice.

“This fort is not merely a structure of stone. Every wall here hides a tale, and in every tale… there lies a shadow.”

The children exchanged nervous glances. Some thought he was just trying to add drama to their visit. Others weren’t so sure.

---

As they crossed the ancient iron gates, the air inside seemed heavier. The inside courtyard of the fort was far more disturbing than the outside. Dry, twisted trees stood like sentinels of the past. Broken stones lay hidden beneath tall grass. A deadly stillness ruled the space. No birds chirped, no breeze blew — only silence.

“This place is… too quiet,” Naina whispered.

“Yeah,” Siya agreed. “It’s strange. Such a big space, but it feels… suffocating.”

Veeru led them toward the central courtyard where a large, circular well stood — old, deep, and dry. Stone benches surrounded it, and to the side was a raised platform where the king once held court.

Kabir curiously asked, “Does the well still have water?”

“No,” Veeru replied. “But they say… on some nights, people hear cries echoing from inside.”

Naina took a step back, her face pale.

“Keep away from the well,” Baba Dayaram said suddenly. “Its depth doesn’t only lead downward. It leads through time.”

The children didn’t quite understand what he meant, but they nodded anyway.

---

Aarav aimed his camera at the well. On the screen, something blurry flickered. He zoomed in — nothing. Just shadows.

“What’s wrong?” Siya asked.

“I thought I saw something move. But maybe it was just light,” he replied. But a strange feeling lingered in his chest.

The group moved next to the south side of the fort, where the ancient royal hall still stood, partially intact. The walls inside were lined with fading murals — scenes of war, queens in their finery, and some odd, faceless figures that seemed half-human, half-shadow.

“These murals are hundreds of years old,” Veeru explained. “Time has erased their faces… but the stories remain.”

The children walked slowly, staring at the paintings. One mural showed a woman holding a baby, while behind her, a black silhouette loomed in the darkness. The shadow seemed almost alive — even after all these years.

“Who’s this?” Siya asked, pointing.

Veeru smiled uneasily. “That was a princess. Her son disappeared without a trace one night. They say she still wanders the fort… searching for him.”

“Even after death?” Kabir asked nervously.

Baba Dayaram didn’t say a word — just nodded slowly.

---

The laughter and excitement from earlier had now faded. The children weren’t just exploring an old building anymore — they were stepping into a story still breathing through the walls.

“Have you ever seen anything strange here?” Aarav asked the guide.

Baba Dayaram responded softly, “Not every day. But there are nights when the fort speaks. You’ll hear whispers from the walls. Stairs creak on their own. Doors shut without a touch.”

The wind around them seemed to hush, almost listening.

---

“Let’s rest here for a while,” said Ms. Anupama. “Lunch will be served in a bit. We’ll continue the tour afterward.”

The students settled on the open field near the fort’s courtyard. Some unpacked snacks, others took pictures. But Aarav, Siya, Kabir, and Naina — the four of them sat quietly, eyes scanning the fort’s towering walls and empty balconies.

“There’s something they’re not telling us,” Siya whispered.

“I felt that too,” Aarav agreed. “Baba Dayaram… it’s like he wants to say more but stops himself.”

“Maybe they’re hiding something,” Naina said, her fingers nervously playing with the wrapper of a chocolate bar.

“Or maybe,” Kabir added, looking around, “something is hiding from them. Something that doesn’t want to be found.”

---

Their first real glimpse of the fort had left behind more than awe. It had brought with it a sense of being watched — as if the fort itself had eyes. As if each echo in its corridors had meaning.

Aarav stared at the screen of his camera, reviewing what he’d filmed so far. For a moment, he swore he saw a flicker in the shadows again — near the well.

He looked up quickly.

Nothing.

Just stones, weeds, and that haunting silence again.

And so, their journey into the unknown continued.

This was just the beginning.

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