Paharganj has always been a sleepy village, the days boiling with the syntaxes of farmers tending their crops and the odd distant echo of temple bells in the evening. But today, it was eerily silent. Last evening, a strange tempest raging through the region left behind nothing and nobody- except for one dead body.
Officer Arjun Malhotra looked down on the flat expanse of a mustard field. His feet sank a little in the dampness. Just on the other side of the blow of the sea was seen the young farmer, Ram Singh, whose body had no external injuries but bore a curious burn mark on one of the arms.
“What would you say happened?” asked Arjun. He wasn’t alone in the middle of nowhere; now he was with Dr. Neha Sharma, the only doctor in the village, scowling over the body and letting the stethoscope dangle around her neck.
Arjun folded his arms and furrowed his brows. “The villagers are saying it was lightning. But this doesn’t look like any lightning strike I’ve seen. Look at this mark.”
Neha leaned closer, her gloved hand hovering over the burn. “It’s too precise. It’s almost like a tattoo, but it’s clearly a chemical burn. Lightning doesn’t behave like this.”
“And the witnesses?” Arjun asked.
Neha glanced toward the edge of the field, where a small group of villagers stood, murmuring amongst themselves. “They said the storm wasn’t normal. They saw a greenish cloud before it started.”
Arjun looked up at the sky. It was clear now, but the memory of the strange storm lingered in his mind. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
Back at the station, Arjun couldn’t shake off the strange case. Ram’s death wasn’t the only one reported after the storm. News had spread that nine more people across nearby villages had died under similar circumstances, all at the same time.
Arjun sat at his desk, going through the reports. The details were the same: no visible injuries, the same branching burn mark, and witnesses describing a greenish mist accompanying the storm.
Curiosity gnawed at him, so he expanded his search. He began combing through news reports from across Maharashtra and then India. What he found left him stunned.
There were similar deaths reported in Rajasthan, Kerala, Assam—even in Delhi. Each victim bore the same strange mark. And when Arjun checked global news, his heart raced. Thirty-six people across the world had died on the same day, at the exact same time. Every report mentioned a green cloud.
“This cannot be a coincidence,” Arjun muttered. He slouched into his chair and gazed up at the screen. A map marked with tiny dots marked on each death chillingly, forming a well-formed pattern.
About a week later, Arjun was driving back home after finishing a late shift. The narrow road was lined with fields and now and then a light from the lantern illuminated an isolated hut. He was thinking of the case when the weather suddenly changed.
There was a strange stillness in the air with an odd green light illuminating the heavens. Arjun slowed down the jeep grabbing instinctively for the service revolver.
A cold wind began to gust with a slight metallic waft, and shortly after that, a green mist floated down from the clouds, twirling around the fields like ghostly tendrils.
Arjun stopped the jeep outside and got out. His heart thumped inside his chest. The mist was thick, and now it seemed to burn his throat as he inhaled. He coughed while trying to clear his lungs, but his vision soon blurred and attested to a sharp pain in his head.
When that pain abated, he saw them. Forming out of the mist, jerky and unnatural in their movements. Eyes that faintly glowed green, expressions that were blank, almost robotic.
Arjun’s fingers tightened around his revolver. One of the figures slumped towards a man apparently in his late thirties, in a kurta-pajama. “Inspector…” said the man in a whisper, hoarse and weak, “please…help…”
Before he could respond, however, the man’s face contorted into a snarl followed by a leap toward Arjun. He deftly stepped back, avoiding the attack, and shouted, “Stop!” raising his gun.
The man did not listen. His movements were wild, almost animalistic. There was no option for Arjun except to defend himself, which he did with a blow by the butt of his revolver, sending the man sprawling to the ground.
The other figures began moving toward him, their glowing eyes locked on him.
The next morning, Arjun met Neha at her clinic. She looked pale, her usual calm demeanor replaced by visible concern.
“I need to show you something,” she said, leading him to her small lab.
On the table lay blood samples from the storm victims. Neha pointed to one of the slides under her microscope. “There’s something in their blood. A foreign substance I’ve never seen before. It’s almost like… a parasite.”
Arjun’s stomach turned. “Parasite? You mean, something is controlling them?”
Neha nodded. “It explains their aggression. Whatever this is, it’s not natural.”
Arjun leaned against the table, his mind racing. “The green mist… it must be carrying this parasite. That’s why everyone exposed to it is affected.”
Neha hesitated before speaking again. “There’s more. I’ve been studying the marks on their bodies. They’re not random. They form a pattern, almost like… a map.”
“A map?” Arjun repeated, his brows furrowing.
Neha pulled out a piece of paper, showing him a rough sketch of the marks. “It’s as if they have ties to something or someone.”
He was returning home that evening with heavy thoughts. Arjun argued with his girlfriend, Priya, and she received him with a worried expression.
“You look worn out,” she said, offering him a cup of chai.
Arjun managed a weak smile. “Long day.”
Priya sat beside him, her expression serious. “Arjun, you know what? I need to say something to you.“
He gave her an expectant look, the tension in her voice adding to the heat in his mind. “What is it?“
Priya hesitated for a moment and then rolled up her sleeve. Arjun’s heart sank when he saw the faint, branching mark on her arm.
“No…” he whispered barely audible enough to be heard.
“I was caught in a storm last week,” Priya said her voice trembling. “It didn’t mean much at first, and now…”
Arjun gulped. “Why couldn’t you just tell me earlier?”
“I was scared,” Priya confessed tears streaming down her cheeks. “I do not know what is happening to me, Arjun. Sometimes I feel like…oh my God, not myself.”
Arjun’s mind was racing. The woman he loved was now another part of the mystery he was trying to solve. Was she a victim, or was there something more she was hiding?
The next day, the two investigated further, Arjun and Neha, regarding the genesis of this storm. From a meteorologist at Pune University, it emerged that these green clouds behaved not like weather phenomena in normal terms.
“They’ve focused on certain areas, almost like they’re targeting specific loci,” said the meteorologist. “It’s not natural.
Someone—or something—is controlling them.”
Arjun felt a shudder running through his spine. “But why? What’s the purpose?”
The meteorologist shook his head. “That, I don’t know. But one thing is clear—these storms are spreading.”
As Arjun left the meeting, his phone buzzed. It was a message from Priya: *We need to talk. Meet me at the temple.*
Arjun’s heart went thud against his rib cage as he proceeded towards the edge of the village where the temple stood. As he arrived, Priya was waiting for him, her pale face and frightened eyes saying a lot.
“There’s something I haven’t told you,” she whispered.
“What is it?” Arjun asked his tone firm but gentle.
Priya hesitated before speaking. “I think… I think I’m part of this. The storms, the marks… I feel connected to them somehow.”
Arjun’s blood ran cold. “Connected? How?”
Before Priya could answer, the sky darkened, and a green glow lit up the horizon. The storm was back.
As the green mist began to descend, Priya’s eyes flickered with a faint glow. Arjun stepped back, his heart breaking.
“Priya …” he whispered.
“I am sorry, Arjun,” she replied, tears flowing down her cheeks. “I did not choose this.”
They were wrapped with the mist, and then Arjun felt air fill his lungs once cold metallic air. He knew this was just the beginning.
[Blackout? …. Or To Be Continued!]
