Angad brought the car to a stop at the mouth of a narrow, bushy lane that seemed to swallow the moonlight whole. He leaned over, peering into the oppressive darkness with a skeptical frown.
"You stay here?" he asked, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice. "This place looks like it's straight out of a horror film. Are you sure you don't want me to drive you all the way to your gate?"
Mishka offered him a serene, unreadable smile. "I'll be perfectly fine. Thank you for the ride, Angad. It was... memorable."
With a final, uncertain glance at the foreboding lane, Angad nodded. "Okay then. Goodnight, Mishka."
He drove off, the purr of his engine fading into the night. The moment his taillights disappeared, the atmosphere around Mishka shifted. The peaceful night was suddenly pierced by a terrified scream.
"Help! Somebody, please help me!"
A young girl came stumbling out of the bushes, collapsing against Mishka. "Please, save me! She's coming for me!"
Mishka's hands steadied the girl, her voice calm but firm. "Who is after you?"
The girl pointed a shaking finger toward the sky where a sinister, floating figure was descending - a Yakshini with malice glowing in her eyes.
Mishka didn't hesitate. "Run," she commanded the girl. "Run far and fast. Don't look back."
As the girl scrambled away, Mishka turned to face the supernatural threat. The Yakshini landed gracefully before her, a cruel smile playing on her lips.
"Why are you protecting my prey, mortal?" the Yakshini hissed. "Are you not afraid of death?"
Mishka's lips curved into a terrifying smirk. "Can death fear death?"
The Yakshini's confidence wavered. "What kind of nonsense is that?"
"You're clearly an amateur," Mishka taunted, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "That's why you couldn't sense a senior. Look down."
Confused, the Yakshini glanced downward - and froze. Mishka's feet were twisted backwards. When she looked up again, her breath caught in terror.
Mishka's eyes now glowed with hellish red light. Her nails had elongated into sharp black talons, and her braid writhed like a living serpent.
"You... you're a Daayan!" the Yakshini stammered.
"Yes," Mishka confirmed. "But I'm not just a Daayan - I'm also a Reeva descendant."
The Yakshini's eyes widened in horror. "How is that possible? How can you be both Daayan and Reeva?"
Mishka took a predatory step forward. "You serve the Kaal Vansh, hunting girls born under our Warlock King's stars. But I serve a higher purpose."
The Yakshini stared in disbelief. "But... we're sisters in darkness! Why protect this girl?"
Mishka's final smile was cruel and knowing. "Some questions are better asked to the devil himself."
In a flash, Mishka's braid shot forward, wrapping around the Yakshini's neck like a vice. As the creature struggled, Mishka pulled her close, draining her essence until the Yakshini dissolved into nothingness.
Standing alone in the now-silent lane, Mishka took a deep breath. The red glow faded from her eyes, her nails retracted, and her feet returned to normal. She smoothed her hair, the braid now lying innocently against her back - once again the picture of a normal, beautiful young woman.
Later that evening, Vikram knocked softly on Kiara's bedroom door before entering. She was curled up on her window seat, scrolling through her phone.
"Kiara, beta," he began, his voice gentle but firm. "I have something for you."
He held out a delicate silver locket on a chain. It was beautifully crafted, with intricate patterns that seemed to swirl and shift in the light.
Kiara took it, turning it over in her hands. "It's pretty, Dad. But what's the occasion?"
"No occasion," Vikram said. "I just want you to wear it. Always. Promise me you won't take it off."
Kiara's eyebrows furrowed. "Why? What's so special about it?"
Vikram chose his words carefully. "Let's just say... it's protective. It will keep you safe."
"Safe from what?" Kiara asked, a hint of skepticism in her voice. "Dad, this isn't another one of your superstitious things, is it?"
"Kiara, please," Vikram said, his tone growing more urgent. "There are more things in this world than you understand. There are... energies, forces. This locket will shield you."
Kiara shook her head, a small, exasperated smile on her face. "Forces? Energies? Dad, you sound like those TV psychics. This is the 21st century! We have science, technology. We don't need magical lockets to keep us safe."
"Science doesn't have all the answers, beta," Vikram insisted. "There is a whole world beyond what you can see and touch. A world that can be... dangerous."
"You're talking about ghosts? Spirits?" Kiara's skepticism was now tinged with amusement. "Come on, Dad. You're a college principal! You should be encouraging rational thinking, not this... this folklore."
"It's not folklore!" Vikram's voice rose slightly, frustration breaking through his calm exterior. "It's knowledge that has been passed down through generations for a reason! Why can't you just trust me on this?"
"Because it doesn't make sense!" Kiara countered. "You want me to wear a magic necklace because of some ancient stories? What's next? Will you ask me to carry a rabbit's foot for luck? Sprinkle salt around my room?"
Vikram took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Kiara, I am asking you, as your father who loves you more than anything in this world, to please wear this locket. For me. Don't question it, just do it."
Seeing the genuine worry in his eyes, Kiara's resistance softened slightly. She sighed, fastening the locket around her neck.
"Okay, Dad. Fine. I'll wear it." She touched the cool silver against her skin. "But I'm doing it for you, not because I believe in any of this... protective energy stuff."
"That's all I ask," Vikram said, relief washing over his face. He kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, beta."
As he left the room, Kiara looked down at the locket, still skeptical. She had no way of knowing that the intricate patterns were ancient Reeva symbols of protection, woven with magic to shield her from the very real darkness that was closing in around her.