Chapter 4: The First Execution

Ritu screamed in anger and rushed to pull them apart, but no one helped. She got knocked down and fell hard, glasses sliding down her nose. “Stop it, you idiots!” she yelled, voice cracking.

Ritu clutched her backside, eyes red. Her dupatta was twisted, hair coming loose from its plait. Fury and helplessness mingled in her gaze.

At that moment, everyone’s phones rang at once—a chorus of notification chimes, as if the universe itself was warning them.

[Limited to ten minutes. Only two minutes left.]

[Please, the unluckiest student, choose a way to die. When time is up, forced execution.]

The clock seemed to tick louder, each second hammering the message’s threat.

Everyone stared at the message, faces draining of colour.

A boy muttered a prayer. Another clutched a friend’s hand. “Yeh sab sapna hai, na?” someone whispered.

But Ritu’s eyes lit up with hope and calculation. She glanced at Sneha, a strange glint in her eye.

Sneha squatted in fear, trembling, her usually bright face now a mask of terror. Mascara streaked her cheeks. Her pink skirt darkened as a puddle spread beneath her.

She was so scared, she didn’t realize she’d wet herself.

A soft whimper escaped her. She hugged her knees, shrinking in on herself.

Their eyes met. Sneha rushed over, grabbing Ritu’s hand tightly: “Please, Didi, please...”

“Counsellor, Didi, I don’t want to die! Only you can save me—please!”

Her voice was hoarse, pleading, all dignity lost.

“The rules say the Luck King can do anything—so you can do anything!”

She pointed at the group chat, words tumbling out. “Aap kuch bhi kar sakte ho!”

“Just post in the group that I’m exempt, and I won’t die!”

Everyone leaned in, hope flickering in their eyes.

A few sat up, posture changing. “Accha, toh yeh sab mazaak hi hai!” someone said, almost laughing in relief.

Suddenly, the mood lightened. Someone clapped a friend’s back: “Lo bhai, sab theek ho jayega!”

“Just do that and there won’t be any punishment.”

Arjun, always the theorist, piped up: “Bas loophole pakad liya, game khatam!”

“The doors and windows could be locked beforehand to scare us—damn, even I got fooled.”

A couple of girls giggled nervously. Boys laughed. One, face mischievous, whispered, “Oye, Sneha ka pink skirt—sab dekho!”

Everyone burst into awkward giggles, Priya glaring but the tension broken for a second.

Kabir and Amit breathed a sigh of relief, collapsing to the floor, their fight forgotten.

But Ritu wasn’t satisfied. She typed furiously in the group chat:

[Are you sure anything I want can be done?]

Meera instantly replied: [Yes. As long as you post your wish in the group, it will be fulfilled immediately.]

The reply sent a chill through the room. Someone gasped, “Yeh toh sach mein ho raha hai?”

Sneha screamed, panic shattering the calm: “Pagal ho gayi ho, Ritu? Main sach mein mar jaungi!”

“Ritu, you witch! What are you doing? My life is at stake—don’t joke with me!”

Before Sneha could stop her, Ritu typed: [I want all of Sneha’s savings. Transfer all her money to my account.]

Ding dong.

A PayTM notification chimed, slicing through the air. Ritu’s phone flashed: ‘1,00,00,000 received from Sneha.’

Everyone gasped. “Kitna? Ek crore?”

Sneha clutched her head, as if trying to process the loss. “Paise hi chahiye the toh pehle bolti, Ritu! Main de deti!”

Suddenly, Meera sent another message: [Time’s up. Sneha didn’t choose a way to die. Forced execution.]

The screen glowed, the message final. Chairs scraped as everyone bolted away, huddling in corners, leaving Sneha alone in the centre.

Her eyes were wild with terror, sweat pouring down her face, body trembling. The puddle beneath her grew larger.

Time slowed. Ten seconds passed—nothing.

A hush fell. Kabir snorted, nervously laughing: “Bas, ho gaya! Sab mazaak tha, yaar!”

He stood up and slapped Ritu. “Pagal ho gayi ho, Didi?”

Slap! Slap!

But before more abuse could fly, a monstrous bang erupted—a wet, sickening thud.

“Ah—!”

A collective scream rose, horror finally breaking through. Someone threw up in the corner.

Boys and girls screamed, voices shattering the air. Kabir squatted on his haunches, hands over his head, muttering prayers under his breath.

He forced himself to look. First, a pool of blood, then a pile of flesh—Sneha’s body reduced to a grotesque mess.

Kabir’s jaw worked soundlessly. “Nahin... yeh kaise ho sakta hai?”

He was stunned for several seconds, world silent. Then he screamed—a long, broken wail that echoed through the haunted room.

And in the stunned silence, the PayTM jingle started again.