As Hridoy tried to siphon Sunslite's energy with his silver needle, a fire of rebellion ignited within Sunslite. Now, to bring that rebellion under control, Hridoy adopted a new strategy.
"The contract can be read later," Hridoy said calmly, his blue eyes still holding that intense observation. "But your inner tension is too high right now. This kind of power cannot be merely suppressed by pressure; it must be confined to a rhythm or a pattern."
Sunslite stared at the needle mark on her left arm. She feigned a smile to compose herself, a bitter, artificial laugh that could not conceal the agony in her heart.
Hridoy noticed it but made no comment. He knew this false smile only intensified her rage.
Suddenly, Hridoy walked toward an old, massive gramophone placed in a corner of the library. He placed a disc on the player.
Breaking the room's thick silence, the melody of a German song drifted out. It was not a joyful tune, but deep, solemn, and slow—like a Viennese Waltz.
"Come, Sunslite," Hridoy said. "The most important lesson in this manor is: Control (\text{নিয়ন্ত্রণ}). Just as fear saps your strength, rhythm teaches you how to maintain it. We shall dance."
Sunslite was stunned. This terrifying man, who had tried to steal her energy by inserting a needle into her body just five minutes ago, was now offering her a dance! But she lacked the power to disobey Hridoy's command.
Sunslite stood up. Hridoy approached her and extended his hand for the dance. His hand was cold as ice, slowing down Sunslite's blood circulation.
They began to dance on the vast, empty floor of the library. Sunslite's gown was heavy, and Hridoy's steps were flawless. With the rhythm of the music, Sunslite realized that this dance was not merely entertainment—it was a display of Hridoy's masterful control.
Hridoy spun Sunslite around. This time, Sunslite's back faced Hridoy.
Right then, Hridoy placed one hand on the middle of Sunslite's back. His touch was chilling. But with this touch, he performed an action: with the subtlest pressure of his hand, he grasped the strings of pearl beads that trailed down her back.
The pearl strings cascaded like five streams, and Hridoy held them in such a way that it felt as if they were tied by a delicate thread under the pressure of his fingers.
Hridoy whispered into Sunslite's ear, so only the pearls could hear:
"Your body is now under my control, Sunslite. And your 'Light' is flowing into these pearls. The pearls carry your warmth. If I snap even the most delicate thread of these strings, the power within you will instantly dissipate into this cold room—you will be extinguished. This is your first and most dangerous bondage."
Sunslite's artificial smile vanished. She understood that Hridoy was not just making her dance; he was showing her that her vulnerability, or the symbol of her 'Light,' was now like a delicate instrument held in Hridoy's hands, which he could sever at any moment.
"Confine your fear, Sunslite," Hridoy said, "to the rhythm of this dance. As long as you dance with me, you will live. This is your second lesson: Rhythm and Control."
The dance continued, and Sunslite felt the chilling touch of the pearl strings, delicately tied to her back—it was now a slow, beautiful threat of death. The dance was still going on in the cold library floor. The German melody was slow, solemn, and continuously built an atmosphere of control. Hridoy's hand was holding the pearl strings on Sunslite's back with a delicate thread, reminding her of how fragile her freedom was.
As they danced, Hridoy suddenly pulled Sunslite even closer to him.
Just then, before Sunslite could comprehend, Hridoy, in the middle of their dance rhythm, quickly kissed her neck on one side.
It was not a kiss of affection; it was cold, swift like lightning, and unexpected. The touch of Hridoy's ice-cold lips seemed to set an icy fire on Sunslite's skin. Sunslite felt as if her energy or warmth was being sucked away from the place of that touch on her neck—just as it was with the needle.
Sunslite gasped. All her caution and terror awakened simultaneously within her.
But Hridoy did not stop.
The next moment, he quickly spun Sunslite around to face him and instantly kissed her deeply on the lips.
The kiss was forceful and chilling. The pressure of Hridoy's lips was merciless, creating a stark contrast with his own lack of warmth. It was an extreme personal violation for Sunslite, an attempt to delve into the depths of her soul.
Sunslite was overwhelmed with intense dread. She wanted to pull away, to free herself from Hridoy's terrifying control. She tried to push Hridoy away with her hands.
But Hridoy did not let her go. He held her firmly in the pose of the dance. His muscles were rigid, like stone.
Without removing his lips, Hridoy whispered, speaking as if through his kiss:
"You cannot move, Sunslite. Your fear... your inner fire... I need it now. You are now under my spell (\text{আমার চুম্বনের অধীনে}). If you pull away, the thread of pearls will break."
The pearl strings now seemed to press even harder against her back. Sunslite realized that Hridoy was holding her hostage, both physically and psychologically, at the same time. The slightest attempt to move could be fatal for her.
When Hridoy finally removed his lips after the kiss, the sensation of that icy coldness lingered on Sunslite's lips. She saw a kind of satanic satisfaction in Hridoy's blue eyes.
"The final part of the first lesson," Hridoy said calmly, as he twirled Sunslite back into the dance rhythm. "To retain your strength, your mind must become accustomed to the most dangerous attraction. Hate and fear... they dwell close together."
Hridoy stopped the gramophone. The music ceased, and the library returned to a solid silence. After that terrifying lesson of the dance in the library, Sunslite's mind was heavy with a complex mixture of hatred, fear, and an unexpected, uncomfortable attraction.
Now, the deepest silence of Reinhart House descended. There was no extra light inside the room, only the faint moonlight seeping in from outside the window.
In the vast bedroom, behind heavy curtains, Sunslite and Hridoy lay side by side on a large, ancient bed. Both their bodies were unclothed—all forms of physical and mental coverings seemed to have been torn away.
Hridoy's body was tranquil, plunged in deep sleep. His ice-cold nature had softened slightly by absorbing Sunslite's warmth. There was no longer that sharp observation or smile on his face, just a look of unusual peace. He was thirty-three, but his appearance bore no marks of time—as if he had remained stable with this mansion for ages.
Sunslite lay awake, her eyes open. She was only eighteen, and her life was irrevocably changed. All her strength to defend herself from Hridoy was gone.
A strange thing happened between them:
Silent tears rolled down Sunslite's eyes.
It was a silent cry, one she didn't even have the strength to utter aloud. Each teardrop fell onto her gownless body and dissolved, as if every particle of her being felt this ultimate helplessness.
Looking at her body, Sunslite felt an intense emptiness inside. It was not a physical wound, but she understood—her 'Light' was completely taken away.
Hridoy had not just absorbed her fear; he might have claimed the source of that 'Light' for himself. Sunslite felt her inner strength, her individuality, her youthful purity—everything had become fodder for this mansion in exchange for Hridoy's sleep.
She remembered that Hridoy was her teacher. Her father had sent her to learn.
Sunslite's father knew Hridoy would be her teacher, but he did not know that her teacher was actually a predator.
Sunslite's father might have sent her here hoping to protect her from danger, but he did not realize that he was sacrificing his own daughter as sustenance for a horrifying contract.
This realization of ultimate betrayal shook Sunslite silently. Her tears were not just for physical damage or pain; it was the agony of betrayal and helplessness.
Sunslite now lay on the bed, all her inner warmth and strength depleted. Beside her lay the cold predator, Hridoy, who, having stolen the most precious thing in her life, was now immersed in deep sleep.
Sunslite now had two paths open:
To accept this defeat and remain Hridoy's slave or 'sustenance' for the rest of her life.
In place of her lost 'Light,' to ignite the fire of hatred and revenge in her heart.The moment Sunslite's silent weeping reached its peak of utter helplessness as she lay beside Hridoy, an unexpected event occurred.
Sunslite had her two hands clasped together, a final attempt to shield her remaining self. She felt the betrayal of her father, the cruelty of Hridoy, and the agony of losing her 'Light'—all coalescing at the core of her inner emptiness.
Precisely at that moment, Hridoy stirred.
His eyes were not open, but his body twitched slightly. The slightest instability in his sleep was cold and unpredictable, like ice. Sunslite instantly shuddered, her breathing stopped. The predator was awakening.
Hridoy had been lying on his side. He turned silently toward Sunslite. His blue eyes slowly opened. The eyes, which were peaceful in sleep, now held that terrifying, observing gaze once more. But this time, there was no satanic satisfaction, only sheer emptiness and overwhelming power.
Sunslite could not move. She lay beside the cold, naked body that had stolen everything from her just minutes before.
The Contact
Hridoy was now fully conscious. He looked at Sunslite's face, noticing her tear-streaked cheeks and stunned eyes.
Then, very slowly, Hridoy extended his ice-cold hand. His hand moved toward Sunslite's clasped hands.
Hridoy did not make a sound. He offered no explanation. He simply reached out and took both of Sunslite's trembling hands.
The touch of his hand was terrifyingly cold, as if it was draining the last remaining warmth from Sunslite's skin. Yet, there was no force in this touch, no allure—it was purely possession. Like an owner holding their most valuable asset, Hridoy held those two hands.
Sunslite felt as though she was sinking into freezing water. Her two hands were not just in Hridoy's grasp; they had become the symbol of his control
Hridoy whispered, gazing almost into the void:
"Now, not just your fear, but this silence will guard your power, Sunslite. You are mine now. And your tears, they are my supper."
His hand remained clasped around Sunslite's hands. Sunslite understood that this touch was not comfort; it was the final nail in the coffin of her bondage . There was no path for her escape. Hridoy's hands, as cold as ice, tightly gripped Sunslite's two hands, causing Sunslite's entire body to go numb. Such terrifying helplessness had never visited her in her 18 years of life. Her tears streamed down her cheeks, but no sound escaped her mouth.
Hridoy, a seasoned and cold predator, observed Sunslite's silent agony with his blue eyes. To him, Sunslite's weakness was merely a form of power.
Hridoy then spoke, his voice deep and calm:
"You are weeping, Sunslite. This crying is not a symbol of weakness; it is the first step towards strength. What you have lost is your fear. And that emptiness will now be filled with something new."
He increased the pressure on Sunslite's hands. The pressure was not inhumane, but it was a symbol of complete control. Sunslite felt that Hridoy was making her understand that, at this moment, Hridoy's complete authority was established over her body, her emotions, and even her tears.
Sunslite's young body seemed to shrink even more beside Hridoy's massive, cold dominance. She could not pull herself away even if she wanted to, because the string of pearls or Hridoy's cold attraction—either could end her life. Her body silently accepted defeat, but her mind rebelled.
Between the external cold and the internal emptiness, a new, terrifying power was born in Sunslite's heart. It was not her lost 'light'; it was deep, intense hatred and a vow of revenge.
She looked silently at Hridoy. Her tears might have stopped now, but the fire burning deep in her eyes had the power to melt Hridoy's ice.
Sunslite made a silent promise to herself:
'You have taken my light from me, Hridoy. But you have awakened my darkness. I am no longer your slave; I will learn the control from your tutelage that will allow me to destroy you. The bond you have tied me with, that bond will one day be your grave.'
Hridoy continued to hold her hand, not sleeping, merely savoring Sunslite's mental defeat in the silence. He did not know that he had not just extinguished a 'light,' but had created a terrifying 'darkness' for himself.
This silent, psychological struggle continued between the two of them. The bed was no longer just a place to sleep; it was a cold, sacred arena for a battle of power.
Just as the silent vow of hatred and revenge was born in Sunslite's heart instead of her lost 'light,' Hridoy's calm, sleeping demeanor was violently broken like a flash of lightning.
His hand, which had merely been holding Sunslite's, suddenly clenched savagely. Sunslite's two small hands felt as though they would be crushed in his iron grip. This sudden, intense pressure spread panic throughout Sunslite's being.
Sunslite was stunned. She hadn't uttered a word! Had Hridoy somehow heard the thoughts inside her mind?
Hridoy opened his blue eyes completely. There was no sign of sleep or observation in those eyes, only a blazing, icy cold fury. He brought his head right up close to Sunslite's face.
Hridoy's voice was low, but every word struck Sunslite's ears like an ice pick. The coldness of his body seemed to intensify with the heat of his rage:
"What did you say?" Hridoy emphasized every word, his breath chilling Sunslite's skin like ice. His gaze sought to penetrate the depths of Sunslite's soul. "What vow are you taking? I can feel that newborn 'darkness' inside you, Sunslite."
Sunslite could not endure the pressure and the fury. Tears welled up in her eyes. All the composure she had held onto seemed about to break. Her young body could not withstand the ruthless psychological and physical control of this adult predator.
"This emptiness, this hatred," Hridoy whispered, almost roaring, "is also my creation. You are my creation, my slave. How dare you dream of rebellion against me while lying in my bed, bound by my touch? Say it again! Utter that vow of revenge again!"
Hridoy's pressure increased. Sunslite winced slightly in intense pain. She understood that Hridoy was not just inflicting physical pain; he was forcing her to acknowledge her mental surrender.
But Sunslite did not utter a single word. Her lips remained tightly pressed. She swallowed the pain with all her remaining willpower. Silence—this was now her only weapon, and though it would intensify Hridoy's fury, it would not allow her to submit to Hridoy's demands.
Hridoy stared at her angrily for a moment. Seeing Sunslite's silence, his rage intensified, but he realized it was impossible to force her to speak at this moment. What he desired was the complete suppression of her will, which Sunslite was now resisting through silence.
Hridoy finally eased the pressure on her hands slightly.
"Very well," he said in a calm, but even colder voice. "I accept your silence for today. But remember, no thought is born in this manor without my permission. Your lesson has only just begun."
Hridoy closed his eyes again, but his hand remained clasped around Sunslite's. The cold war of hatred, control, and silent promise continued between them.
When Hridoy's ice-cold voice echoed, the pressure on Sunslite's hands eased slightly, but Hridoy did not release them.
"Very well," Hridoy said calmly, but his voice carried profound authority. "I accept your silence. But remember, your tears and the new birth of your rebellion—all are part of my pact."
Holding Sunslite's hands, he raised himself slightly. He did not touch Sunslite's wet cheek, but his gaze was ruthless.
"You have lost your 'light', Sunslite. And that emptiness will now be filled with my power. You are no longer weak; you are now a Cold Instrument."
Suddenly, Hridoy pulled Sunslite's hands and placed them on his own hard chest. Hridoy's body was cold, as if made of marble. Sunslite felt that intense coldness penetrating deep into her skin.
"Your father's contract was to subdue this coldness. He did not know that the true condition of this contract was surrender. And your youth? Your youthful innocence was the first food of this manor."
Sunslite shivered at the cold touch of his chest. She tried to pull her hands away from Hridoy's body, but Hridoy held them firmly.
Sunslite felt as if she were merely a shell of a body, with all the warmth and individuality stolen from within. She did not concede defeat, but she felt that she had no strength left at this moment.
Her mind took a new turn. She thought, Hridoy's power is only coldness and control. What if she accepts this coldness? What if she learns this Art of Control from Hridoy?
Sunslite closed her eyes. Her inner promise hardened once more:
I am not your slave, Hridoy. You have emptied me, but in this emptiness, I will create my new power. I will defeat you with the very lesson you are teaching me.
Hridoy sensed her silent consent and the hint of mental surrender. He smiled like a victor, but that smile was only deep within his blue eyes.
He finally released Sunslite's hands and lay back down calmly. The silence of the room returned, but it was no longer heavy; it was the echo of a terrifying promise.The night has ended. In the vast bedroom of Reinhart House, a faint pre-dawn light now falls. Sunslite is deep in sleep. The long night's mental and physical strain has completely exhausted her youthful body. She doesn't know when Hridoy, who lay beside her, got up.
The Terrace Scene
The scene shifts to the manor's spacious terrace. In a corner of the roof, among old stones and creepers, an iron swing is set up.
Hridoy stands beside the swing. He is dressed only in a white shirt—its collar slightly open, revealing his cool skin. In his hand is an old, leather-bound book.
He gently closes the book and runs a hand lightly through his smooth, dark hair, tidying it.
He then slowly sits on the swing.
Hridoy's gaze is fixed on the distant horizon. His posture is serene, showing no sign of fatigue from the previous night. He seems to be deeply engrossed in thought; perhaps contemplating the nascent 'darkness' that emerged within Sunslite last night.
He sat motionless for a minute, appearing as if he had lightly dozed off right there on the swing. This sight is bizarre—the one who siphons life force from others is sleeping so peacefully!
But suddenly, Hridoy stirred.
He placed the book aside and pulled his glasses from his pocket, putting them on. The glasses made his blue eyes even more intense and sharp.
Wearing the glasses, he looked up at the sky. In the gentle light of the morning, a mysterious smile broke across his lips. The smile was not one of joy; it was the smile of a predator—a silent challenge.
His smile seemed to say: "You have taken an oath of rebellion, Sunslite. Good. I am your teacher. I will teach you how to use that very rebellion against me. You will be my greatest creation."
Hridoy then continued to gaze calmly at the cloudless sky through his glasses. The silence of the terrace was but a part of Hridoy's profound plan.