Chapter 1
Tanya Menon stepped out of the shower, wrapp6her bright link towel securely around herself. She carefully dried her face and aems before slipping into her fabourite green and gold cotton bathrode-a thoughtful gift from her grandmother. It offered a cozy, a familiar comfort that she cherished deeply. Her dsmp, shoulder-length hair was soon secured in matching head towel, twisted into a neat turban. The steamy warmth of her lukewarm shower lingered in the bathroom, fogging the wide mirror above the sleek marble basin.
Stepping closer to the morror, Tanya wiled a small circular patch clear with her hand and leaned into study her reflection. It didn't take long for her to notice the welcome blemish.
"Oh no, not again!" She muttered l, tilting her face to impact her right profile. Using her index fingers, she gently stretched the skin near her chin, revealing the offending spot. "No way, Mr. Pimple. You are not ruining my weekend!"
Fighting the urge to squeeze it, she pulled open the drawer beneath the basin. The drawer was a chaotic treasure trove to skincare products-toners, serums and crems, all promising morscles. Her search become increasingly frantic.
"No not this one...where is it?"she mummered. Moments later, her eyes lit up. "Ah! Gotcha!" She triumphantly received a small roll-on tube, hailed as a top acne-fighting soloution in an article she hread recently.
Unscrewing the cap, she carefully applied product to the small pimple, her focus unwavering.
"That's right, Mr. Pimple. You fone for." She said with a smark. "Disappear before Saturday, okay?"
Feeling victorious, she was just about to began ber eleborate moisturizing routine when a faint sound from the bedroom caught her attention.
Pausing she opened the bedroom door, adjusted her turban to uncover one ear and listened closely. The quirky tume she was unmistakable-her was receiving a video call.
"Coming, coming," she said, rushing to her beside table, where her obone buzzed and vibeated, inching dangerously close to the edge. The screen diplayed: Incoming video call from Ananya Nair.
Tanya answered with a smile. "Hey, babe! You won't believe it-I just zapped a pimple!" But instead of Ananya of Ananya's cheerful face, rhe screen showed tear-filled nrown eyee. Tanya's smile vanished.
"Ananya? Are you you okay?" She asked, her tone tone shifting to concern.
There was no response. Slowly, the camera zoom out revealing Ananya's pale face, streaked with smudged kajal. Her hair clung damply to her forehead. A leather gah was strapped tightly around her mouth, cutting into the corners of her lips leaving faint bloodstains.
"Ananya, what the hell is going on?" Tanya whispered, fear raising to her chest.
A distorted, chilling voice broke the silence.
"I am.afraid Ananya can't speak right now."
Tanya's hand trembled. "Who is this?"
"That doesn't matter," the voice replied. "What's matter is you listen and obey. If you fail, both of you will pay the price."
"We are about to play the game called Two Questions. Answer correctly and Ananya goes free. Fail and she suffer. First Question: How many Instagram friends do you have?"
"2173" Tanya blurted.
Cortect. Second: what's Ananya's phone number?
Tanya foze. I... I don't know it by heart! Let me check.
"Five seconds." The voice interrupted l, counting down.
"Five... Four... Three...
I don't know. Tanya cried out.
"Wrong answer." The voice said icily. "Now watch what happens next."
To be continued...
