home

search

Act 14— A Face Without A Soul

  Tarun and Farhan walked through the carnival, their boots crushing against the gravel as they pushed through the darkness.

  The carnival ground was swallowed with darkness— no children, no laughter and no bright jingles.

  The echoes were now of forgotten joy, replaced with the rot and rust stench of metal, along with the smell of burnt sugar refused to leave the air.

  The shrill cry of the Ferris Wheel was faintly audible, relieving both the boys.

  Tarun limped, his wounds partially covered by a torn cloth.

  His weight was slumping on Farhan's shoulder, who dragged him, refusing to let Tarun fall.

  Up ahead on their path, the roller coaster cut across the night and grabbed their attention.

  The rails glimmered under the faint moonlight— and at its base, stood two silhouettes.

  Unclear. Waiting.

  Tarun narrowed his eyes, carefully observing, "Could be allies. Rishabh? Or Kritika?"

  Farhan didn't stop, his voice sharp and calculating, "Or it could be a threat. Possibly the traitor waiting for us?"

  But Tarun's jaw tightened. He shook his head in denial. His voice came in low and reluctant,

  "No, I've seen the traitor, a girl. Her face was blank, like she had no soul. And her hand—"

  He paused, as he got serious about it, "It had a tattoo. A spiral on her wrist."

  For a moment, there was only silence.

  Farhan's eyes didn't just widen— they were haunted with shock and fear.

  His chest heaved. Once, and then twice. And suddenly, the colour of his face faded away.

  "No…" The words trembled out of him, almost too faint to hear.

  The spiral wasn't a mere mark, but a memory— of someone he knew too well.

  Before Tarun could question further, Farhan's fists clenched.

  And all of a sudden, he broke into a sprint, his boots thundering across the gravel now.

  "Farhan!" Tarun cursed at him, following him with a staggering sprint. His voice cracked out of desperation as he shouted,

  "I— I saw her on the stage with you guys!"

  ——————————————

  On the other side, there was eeire silence lingering above the group of five.

  Jay leaned on Ronak for support, his hands still trembling slightly.

  The weight of that night's trauma pressed onto him, like a burden on his shoulders.

  Every breath he let out reminded of the ghost of his past, and the person who died.

  The battles in his mind were never over.

  None of them spoke. They couldn't.

  For Anaya, it all began to make sense— the familiar bravado of his childhood was replaced by the haunting fragility.

  Her chest tightened, and after a long time, she didn't see Jay as a burden, but someone scarred, carrying far more than what others could see.

  "Why…?" Anaya muttered to herself, regretting all those words she uttered against Jay, "You were never wrong… I was the weak one."

  Rishabh's eyes swept across the ground, even his hands were trembling out of fear, but his voice was commanding.

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  He knew that the past was painful, but if the present wasn't handled soon, it could break them more than the past ever could.

  "There's no time for remorse… at least for now. We have to deal with what's going on."

  But Yug and Ronak weren't paying attention to his words. Their attention was drawn somewhere else.

  A bright glow shimmered beneath the roller coaster they came across— and there stood two faint, unrecognised figures.

  They couldn't make out either of the faces or intentions. But the sheer look of it made their nerves on the edge.

  "What… who are they? Yug stepped towards the light, his fists tightening.

  Ronak's gaze didn't shift, but his instincts screamed warning.

  But Anaya saw something that the others didn't.

  Her eyes flickered on the non-functional roller coaster.

  She pointed, her hand shaking unsteadily,

  "Guys… look up there!"

  The group followed her gesture, only to be shocked further.

  A lone figure stood— alone, imposing and eerily calm. The group's breath hitched collectively.

  The shadow didn't move ever so slightly.

  But the composed stance and height were signs of a threat.

  The five exchanged glances, and walked towards the light, knowing that this was the test.

  They were not walking into a fight, but an awaiting, yet dangerous trap.

  ——————————————

  The light under the roller coaster flickered as the two people, that the others saw from far away approached the control panel.

  Kritika and Tara.

  They faced each other as they stood in front of the panel, bodies tense, eyes locked.

  Kritika raised her fingers towards the panel, ready to regain the power supply of the carnival.

  "So, your name is Tara, isn't it?" Kritika whispered, smiling through the anxiety.

  Tara stood still— neither an action nor emotion.

  But her hand? It slowly approached her pocket.

  Just when Kritika was about to undo the plan of the traitors, she heard a familiar voice.

  "Kritika! It's me, Tarun!"

  From behind, Tarun and Farhan arrived at that moment, breathless and panting.

  Suddenly, Farhan's voice cut through the air like a speaker, "It's Tara!"

  But it was too late.

  Without hesitation, Tara slammed onto the control panel, wires snapping and sparks flying.

  "Oops!" Tara tilted her head with a grin took wide for her face, "Guess you didn't know me well."

  Kritika instantly lunges onto her— the film training she had to undergo finally paid off.

  But Tara was something else with her unmatched speed.

  Her movements were fluid, almost like a ghost.

  Each blow Kritika tried to throw was either caught, deflected or redirected.

  Her hammer arced through the air continuously with deadly precision.

  Tarun and Farhan dove towards the control panel, trying to gather the remnants of the panel and restore the power supply with whatever was left.

  But the fight between Tara and Kritika was getting even tense.

  Kritika could hardly catch up, already losing her stamina, but Tara was as fast as she was the moment the fight started.

  Just when Kritika was on the brink of failing, Tara used the opportunity in the best way.

  She swung the hammer in perfect motion, with a high chance of striking Kritika.

  But then, Tara, whose hammer was inches away from Kritika's eyes, was lifted up from the ground slowly.

  And all of a sudden, she was slammed to the supporting pole of the roller coaster track.

  It was done by Anaya.

  And the four others had arrived, who already heard Farhan shouting before.

  Rishabh quickly ran towards the panel, taking the matters into his own hands.

  "You guys have nothing up in your skulls. Go help Yug and the others."

  Kritika and Anaya were instantly engaged in a fight against Tara, who wasn't affected by Anaya's strike.

  But Ronak? He was completely different.

  He was standing there, lifelessly looking at Tara.

  The girl he loved… was not the same.

  His mind roared— betrayal, anger, fear and heartbreak— all at once. The fight raged all around him, but he didn't seem to care.

  He was physically present in the carnival, but his mind took him to the past, showing flashes of every single moment he had with Tara.

  The hammer in Tara's hand slowly blurred into a pen on a notebook in his classroom.

  ——————————————

  Sunlight slipped through the orphanage classroom.

  Tara sat on the first bench, writing out all the notes on the board even when their teacher, Sahil Malhotra wasn't there in class.

  Her hair was messy, with sunlight lighting her face like she was an angel.

  All the other children made the classroom a place swallowed with chaos and laughter.

  But, there was one boy who was not a part of it.

  Ronak Chaturvedi.

  His gaze couldn't move from Tara, her bare look being a treat to his eyes.

  He walked to her, looking at her wrist with nervousness.

  A spiral tattoo burned into her wrist and ink embedded deep in her skin.

  The fresh tattoo made her wrist swollen and red.

  "Uh… does it hurt?"

  Ronak asked, shivering the moment she looked into his eyes.

  "Pain is temporary, you know?" She smiled, a bright but staged one, "But it's nothing compared to the fun I had when I sneaked outside!"

  Ronak smiled awkwardly, and ran back to his seat— talking to her felt like a war too.

  Every time she laughed, always cut through his bitterness, softening him in ways no one could.

  He had been loving her silently, protecting it like a flame never meant to die.

  ——————————————

  But, in the present, when he got to know the truth, the flame that once kept him alive was burning him hollow.

  The fight slowly began to roar back in his ears.

  Tara's hammer whistled through the air, forcing Kritika back. But Anaya lunged forward, her strikes were fierce but reckless.

  Tara's eyes flicked to her, as if Anaya was a complete stranger to her— cold and calculating.

  With a swift, brutal motion, she swung the hammer straight towards Anaya.

  And as the hammer tore through the air towards Anaya's chest, the world seemed to have stopped for Ronak.

  "No— no, it isn't the Tara I loved. I guess… I have to protect what I still have."

  "No!" Yug shouted, leaping towards Anaya.

  Tarun's breath was caught, running towards her.

  Farhan threw the remnants of his guitar towards Tara in anger and desperation.

  But they were all too late.

  The hammer was inches away from Anaya's chest. And then it happened—

  The hammer tore through flesh, the glinting steel was now stained with fresh blood.

  It fell down, with the rattling sound of metal.

  Blood splattered on the ground.

  All the eyes widened, there was a gasp of astonishment because of what all had happened.

  Tara's grin widened, cruel and unnatural, though what she saw caught her off guard.

  "So that's what friendship does to fools…" she whispered, almost savouring the words, "Always ready to die first."

  Hearts were beating as loud as drums.

  But the one who was the most shocked… was Anaya. Her scream broke the silence— only to find that the wound didn't belong to her.

  "Ronak… no… no… it can't be!"

  The person whose chest was slashed was Ronak, who jumped in front of Anaya right on time to took the damage on his own.

  Her legs moved before her mind could.

  As his body landed on the floor with a thud, Anaya knelt down and held him.

  "Why…why did you?!" Tears of anger and sorrow blurred Anaya's vision, "I always treated you like a piece of shit!" Her voice cracked out of disbelief, "And why do you risk your life, fool?!"

  Her hand pressed against the wound, desperate to stop the bleeding, but it only increased more.

  All of them rushed towards Ronak but he looked at Anaya differently.

  He slowly tilted his head back, only to see that the dawn broke through the clouds.

  A thin ray of gold cut across the carnival ruins and fell on his face, softening his bloodied features— like the world chose to cradle him in its last embrace.

  Ronak, groaning in pain, curled his lips into a faint smile with blood staining his teeth.

  "Someone… had to."

Recommended Popular Novels