The fluorescent lights of the interrogation room buzzed like distant thunder, cold and unyielding. Professor Birju sat on the hard metal chair, wrists cuffed to the table, feeling the chill bite through his thin skin. Across from him, Inspector Rao leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes calculating. Two officers stood silently behind him, their gazes sharp and unblinking.
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“Professor Birju,” Rao began, his voice smooth but edged with authority, “let’s go over the events of that night one more time. I want to hear it from your own mouth. And remember, your every word is being recorded.”
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Birju nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He had rehearsed this explanation countless times in his mind, though each repetition only made the memory sharper, more vivid. “I… I was returning home from the college,” he said. “It was late, the sun had already set. I took the path through the graveyard. That’s when I saw him—the man lying dead… and the girl.”
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Rao’s eyebrows lifted. “The girl?”
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“Yes,” Birju said, desperation creeping into his voice. “A young woman. I don’t know who she was. She was standing near the corpse, watching… then, when I approached, she—she turned and vanished. Like smoke. I swear, she wasn’t human.”
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The officers exchanged skeptical glances. One muttered, “Old man’s gone mad.”
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Rao ignored the comment. “And what did you do after that?”
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“I… I stepped closer, trying to see her face,” Birju said, his voice trembling. “I tried to touch her shoulder, but… she disappeared. And the man… he was already dead. I didn’t touch him. I didn’t…” His voice faltered.
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“Then why were you standing over him?” Rao’s tone was sharp. “You were seen there by multiple witnesses. The villagers confirm your presence. And there’s the knife in his chest, with your fingerprints on it.”
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Birju’s heart sank. “I… I must have touched it accidentally when I tried to reach the girl. I didn’t stab him. I didn’t kill him!”
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Rao leaned forward, eyes piercing. “You understand how this sounds? An elderly professor claiming a girl vanished like smoke, and he just happens to be found at the scene with blood on his hands? You’re lucky to even get a hearing. People like you rarely get away.”
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“I am innocent!” Birju shouted, his voice cracking. “I have spent my life in science, in research, in teaching! I have no reason to commit murder!”
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The inspector’s expression softened slightly, but his voice remained firm. “Intentions don’t matter here. Actions do. And all evidence points to you. Witnesses, blood, your proximity to the body… it’s damning.”
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Birju sank back into his chair. He could feel the weight of the world pressing on him—the disbelief, the suspicion, the injustice. His mind raced. How could he convince them? How could he make them see the impossible truth?
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He thought of the girl. Her smoky form, the way she had disappeared. She was real. She had been there. And yet, no one else could see her.
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Rao’s eyes narrowed. “You keep mentioning this girl. Who is she? Do you know her?”
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Birju hesitated. “I… I don’t know her. I’ve never seen her before… or maybe I have, long ago. I can’t explain.”
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“Then you admit nothing? No motive, no knowledge of the deceased?” Rao’s voice was cold.
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“I admit only that I did not kill him,” Birju said firmly. “Everything else… everything else is beyond explanation.”
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The room fell silent. The hum of the fluorescent light seemed louder than ever. Birju felt exhausted, drained. His hands shook on the table, wrists sore from the cuffs. But his mind refused to rest. The truth was out there—he could feel it. And he would find it.
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Hours passed. The questions continued, relentless and repetitive. They asked about his movements, his past, his students, his habits. Every answer was scrutinized, every hesitation noted. By the time they allowed him a break, Birju’s head throbbed and his voice was hoarse.
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He was led to a small holding cell for the night. The walls were grimy, the air thick with the smell of sweat and mold. He sat on the cold bench, head in his hands, replaying the events over and over.
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Why her? Why me? he thought. What did she want?
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He had seen many strange things in his life—unexplained phenomena, scientific anomalies—but nothing like this. This was not a mystery to be solved with formulas or experiments. This was something else entirely. Something that existed beyond logic.
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The night stretched endlessly. Birju stared at the barred window, watching the pale moonlight filter through the iron bars. Shadows moved across the walls, but he could not tell if they were real or imagined. His thoughts turned inward, to memories of youth, of Niru—the girl who had once been the center of his world.
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He remembered the innocence of their love, the laughter, the dreams they had shared. And suddenly, a strange feeling gripped him—the memory of a promise he had never kept, the unresolved pain that had followed him for decades.
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A shiver ran down his spine. Could she be connected? he wondered. The girl in the graveyard… is it her?
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Sleep did not come. Instead, he lay awake, mind racing, haunted by the impossible. He realized that to survive—not just physically, but mentally—he would need to uncover the truth of the girl, the dead man, and the strange world he had glimpsed in that graveyard.
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And somewhere deep inside, a quiet voice told him: the answers would not come from the living world. They would come from somewhere beyond. Somewhere dark. Somewhere he had never imagined.
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By dawn, Birju had made a silent vow. He would leave the prison walls behind. He would seek the one man who could guide him—the guru in the forest. There, he would find the path, no matter how dangerous, no matter how impossible it seemed.
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The Negative World awaited him.
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And Professor Birju, once a man of pure science, would soon step into a reality where nothing was certain—except that truth and justice demanded a price.
and then Add to home screen.