THE GIRL ON THE HIGHWAY

In the quaint village of Pancholi, nestled between rolling hills and rustic landscapes, a tale of homecoming was about to unfold. Rahul, a promising medical student, decided it was finally time to return to the roots he had left behind for his academic pursuits.

Under the star-studded canvas of the night sky, Rahul embarked on a journey back to Pancholi, his trusted Bullet bike, fondly named "Dhanno," roaring to life. The air was crisp, and anticipation hung in the atmosphere as he aimed to reach his village by evening.

However, fate had other plans. College formalities delayed Rahul's departure until the evening hours, casting his journey into the depths of the night. Undeterred, he navigated the familiar and unfamiliar roads, chasing the echoes of memories and aspirations.

As the clock struck midnight, a chilling breeze whispered through the landscape, and Rahul found himself at a crossroads. The village, still distant, beckoned like a long-lost melody. Lost in contemplation, he yearned to surprise his family and the villagers who held a piece of his heart.

The cold night embraced him, and the bullet's engine hummed a reassuring tune. Guided by the glow of the moon, Rahul discovered a signboard marking the proximity of Pancholi – a mere 60 kilometers away. Energized by the revelation, he accelerated into the night.

Yet, the journey took an unforeseen twist. A labyrinth of unfamiliar paths unfurled before him, and a decision loomed at every turn. The air thickened with uncertainty as he grappled with directions, unaware that destiny had woven an intricate tapestry of surprises.

60 kilometres transformed into a maze of uncertainty, and amidst the labyrinth, Rahul found himself at a diverging crossroads. The thrill of the unknown mingled with the chilling night, as the air crackled with suspense.

In a cinematic twist, the night unveiled its secrets. Rahul, enveloped by darkness, heard a distant cry of a girl—a sound that echoed through the silence. The air stood still as the cry punctuated the night, leaving Rahul breathless with intrigue.

Haunted by the cries, he navigated the shadowy lanes, Dhanno's engine cutting through the silence. The village awaited, but the journey had become a quest through the enigmatic heart of the night.

And so, under the canvas of twinkling stars and the enigmatic spell of the night, Rahul's return to Pancholi unfolded with each heartbeat, a tale laced with suspense, surprise, and the intoxicating allure of homecoming.

As Rahul rolled into the village at the unexpected hour of 3 am, the stillness of the night was shattered by the roar of his bike. The tiredness from the long journey was etched on his face, yet the adrenaline of the mysterious encounter lingered in his eyes.

His arrival was met with shock and disbelief. The villagers, roused from their sleep, couldn't fathom how he had traversed the roads known to harbor an eerie presence after midnight. They recounted tales of travelers encountering malevolent spirits, warning Rahul that the night held secrets best left undisturbed.

In hushed tones, they spoke of a chudail – a malevolent spirit that allegedly lurked in the darkness, claiming the lives of those unfortunate enough to cross its path. According to the villagers, nobody who ventured out after midnight had returned alive in the past three years. The air hung heavy with superstition as they implored Rahul to share his tale.

However, Rahul, perhaps shaken by the tales or harboring his own secrets, chose not to disclose the details of his mysterious night journey. The villagers, his parents among them, demanded answers, seeking reassurance that he hadn't danced with the supernatural.

Attempting to calm the palpable tension, Rahul suggested postponing the discussion until morning. He expressed his hunger, a tangible distraction that could momentarily divert attention from the enigmatic night.

After devouring a hastily prepared meal, Rahul retired to his room, seeking the solace of sleep. But as he closed his eyes, his uncle, sensing that Rahul was holding back, approached him quietly.

In the dim light of the room, Rahul's uncle, with a mix of concern and curiosity, probed him for the truth. Finally, unable to contain the story within, Rahul began to unravel the tale of the mysterious cry that had echoed through the night.

He spoke of encountering a distraught girl beneath a tree, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the moonlight. The girl, as beautiful as she was troubled, unfolded a story of being pranked by her friends, left alone with a punctured scooter and no means of communication. She was stranded and scared, waiting desperately for help.

Intrigued, Rahul had decided to aid her, his initial fear fading as he recognized the vulnerability in her eyes. Together, they navigated the dark roads to her village. In gratitude, she revealed the path back to Rahul's long-forgotten village.

As the night unfolded, it became clear that reality often wore a veil of mystery, and sometimes, the unknown held not malevolence, but unexpected encounters that defied the tales spun by the villagers. The night, once shrouded in whispers of chudails and malevolent spirits, now held a different, more benevolent story – one that unfolded under the watchful gaze of a moonlit night.

Is this is chudail ? if yes then why she didn't harm him ? Did she harm only bad people ?

what's her story ? Rahul wants to know that's why he decide to go there again and found the truth ...

To be continued....