From the survivor to the vanisher

The journey to the village was uneventful, but as they approached, an unsettling silence hung in the air. The small village, usually full of life and bustling with activity, was eerily quiet. The ground was still, and the trees that surrounded the village cast long, twisted shadows. It seemed as though the very earth was holding its breath.

Druva walked with purpose, his face unreadable as always, but Aditya couldn't ignore the unease that tugged at his heart. The village's usual vibrancy was now a ghost of what it once was. People walked the streets with their heads down, avoiding eye contact, and their homes were shuttered, as though the very act of looking out the window was a dangerous thing.

A man approached them as they entered the village square. His clothes were torn, and his eyes were wide with fear. He looked desperate.

"Master Druva," the man gasped, his voice trembling. "Please, you must help us. Something is wrong... the villagers are disappearing. One by one, they vanish without a trace."

Druva stopped, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied the man. "Tell me more," he said in a voice that was both calm and commanding.

"The first disappearance happened weeks ago," the man explained. "At first, we thought it was an accident, or perhaps people were leaving for the city. But then, more began to disappear, and those who returned..." His voice faltered, and he lowered his head as though ashamed. "They are different. They walk like ghosts. They speak in strange tongues. Some of them even seem to be... possessed."

Aditya felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "Possessed?" he echoed, incredulous.

The man nodded. "Yes, Master. And there have been strange noises at night—screams, wailing, as though the village is cursed."

Druva's face remained impassive, but Aditya could see the flicker of something—a deep, unsettling awareness—pass through his eyes. "Take us to where it started," Druva ordered.