His eyes were locked onto hers—the same eyes he once gazed into with love… now filled him with fear.
He stood frozen, his hand still resting on her shoulder, unable to move. His feet felt glued to the floor. His heart pounded wildly in his chest.
Thump. Thump.
Sweat trickled down his face.
Breathing was getting harder.
THUD!
Something heavy fell behind him. The sound jolted his body slightly, but what truly broke the trance was her gaze—it shifted, no longer meeting his.
The moment their eye contact broke, he spun around to locate the source of the sound.
Then he turned back—and his blood ran cold.
She was still standing there.
But her head was gone.
Only her body remained, upright, the neck open—raw flesh exposed, blood slowly dripping from it. He could feel the warmth of it spreading where his hand still rested on her shoulder.
His eyes widened. His jaw hung slack. He tried to breathe, but it felt like his lungs had forgotten how.
Then—
He felt a soft breath brush past his right ear.
Without moving his head, his eyes shifted sideways.
And there it was.
The missing head.
Floating beside him.
Staring straight into his soul—eyes wide, mouth dripping with blood.
He couldn’t breathe. His throat was blocked, as if something had clamped shut his airways.
He couldn’t blink. Couldn’t scream. Couldn’t move.
Then—
Darkness.
……..
“Vi... Vikram!”
A faint voice pierced through the void.
“Vikram!”
Stronger now. Urgent. Real.
He gasped, breath crashing back into his lungs as his body jolted with life. Covered in sweat, he looked up to see Indra’s worried face inches from his.
He was still standing. Same room. Same spot. His arm frozen mid-air.
He looked around. Nothing.
“What… happened?” he muttered, rubbing his forehead, dazed.
“I don’t know,” Indra replied, still visibly shaken. “When I came in, you were just standing here like that. Your hand was in the air, and your eyes were looking to the right—completely blank. You weren’t moving at all.”
“Is everything okay, Vikram?” she asked again, gently placing her hand on his arm and guiding him to sit on the bed.
“Yes... yes. I’m alright,” he said softly, trying to steady his breath. “Come, my love… let’s sleep.”
He reached out and took her hand, encouraging her to lie down beside him.
But that night felt endless.
As he lay staring at the ceiling, thoughts swirled restlessly in his mind.
“What was that...? It was too real to be a dream. Too vivid to be an illusion.”
The bed shifted slightly.
He turned his head and saw Indra had rolled to face him in her sleep. Her face was serene, framed by soft curls. Her body, graceful even in rest, radiated warmth and comfort.
She was so beautiful. So peaceful.
He turned toward her, tucking his arm beneath his head as a pillow, watching her in the dim moonlight.
“I should focus on her,” he told himself.
A wave of guilt washed over him for not being fully present on their first night together. But just watching her—calm, safe, near him—eased his heart.
And slowly, finally…
He drifted into sleep.
……..
The sound of chirping birds stirred Vikram from his sleep. He slowly opened his eyes, rubbing them groggily. Indra was still lying beside him, her face turned away.
“Good morning, my love,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her gently on the head.
He slid to the edge of the bed, letting his legs dangle off the side. With a yawn, he stretched his arms, rolled his shoulders, and cracked his neck—preparing himself for the day ahead.
Beside him, he noticed movement. Indra was sitting up now, facing the opposite direction—toward the door—her back to him.
He stood, did a quick forward and backward stretch, cracking his back.
“My love, let’s go for breakfast,” he said cheerfully, walking past her toward the door. 
“I’ll wait for you in the garden,” he added as he stepped out, wanting to give her a moment to herself.
Just then—
“Good morning, my King,” a familiar voice greeted him warmly.
Still looking down as he stepped out, he smiled. “Mother Sika—” he began.
But when he looked up, it wasn’t Sika.
It was Indra.
“In... Indra?” he whispered, stunned.
Then who was in the room?
A chill ran down his spine. His mind went blank for a moment. His body acted on instinct—he spun around to look back inside.
The figure he thought was Indra still sat there on the bed, head bowed, long hair cascading forward to obscure her face.
“My King… what’s wrong?” the real Indra asked softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He turned to her, eyes filled with confusion. “W-What...?? Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.
She gently nudged him aside to peek into the room.
Nothing.
Nothing was there.
The bed was empty.
Vikram blinked, stunned.
“Are you alright, my lord? Come—let’s get some breakfast,” Indra said gently, leading him toward the dining room.
But the king’s mind remained clouded with questions.
Who was that? An illusion? A vision?
Why... why did it feel like Chandra?
And worst of all—
Why was he the only one seeing her?
He wasn’t sure anymore if he should tell anyone.
Or if he even could.
……….
Believing it was all just an illusion born from his lingering guilt over Chandra, King Vikram chose to push the visions aside and focus on building his bond with Indra.
It was a beautiful, moonlit night in the palace gardens. The air was calm, filled with the soft rustle of leaves and the distant sound of crickets. King Vikram had invited Queen Indra for a quiet moment under the stars.
As they reached a large tree, he laid out a cloth on the grass, carefully smoothing it and adjusting the corners before gesturing for her to sit. Indra smiled as she settled down, and he made sure she was comfortable.
But then—he felt it.
A piercing, intense stare from behind.
He paused, his smile faltering. Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder. Nothing but shadows.
Darkness stretched into the distance… yet—
There. Two faintly glowing red dots.
His breath caught. Eyes narrowing, he tried to focus on them, to understand what he was seeing, when—
Tap.
He looked down. Indra was looking up at him, gently tapping the cloth beside her, beckoning him to join her.
He smiled, grateful for the distraction. When he glanced back, the glowing lights were gone.
Focus… focus on Indra, he told himself, exhaling softly.
“My love,” he said as he sat beside her.
“It’s so peaceful,” she said, gazing up at the stars. “And the sky… it’s stunning tonight.”
He took her hand gently and kissed it. “You are stunning, my queen.”
A sparkle lit her eyes, and he felt her heartbeat racing through her pulse. Her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of red, and she shyly hid her smile.
Then, she leaned her head against his chest.
She giggled, hearing his heart thudding just as wildly. Tilting her face up, she met his eyes with a gaze full of warmth and something more—a playful spark, a quiet seduction. Her fingers traced small, teasing circles on his chest.
Her eyes drifted to his lips. A silent invitation.
He leaned in. Their lips met—soft, slow, electric.
When they pulled apart, their eyes held each other. No words were needed. They both knew they wanted more.
She bit her lower lip, a sultry tease. He stood and gently swept her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, looking up at him, licking her lips with a slow, seductive smile.
Something in him snapped.
He pulled her close and kissed her deeply, hungrily, carrying her back to their chamber. That night, they lost themselves in each other—in warmth, in passion, in love.