Chapter 1: The Kotha and the Beauty Mark

The class beauty, Ananya, gave a smug smile, her eyes glinting in the lamplight.

That evening, she slipped into the kotha, stunning everyone with a mesmerising dance. Her ghungroos chimed perfectly with the tabla as the beat rose, and in the soft golden glow of lanterns, she gracefully lowered her neck before the young nawab. Her dupatta slid aside just so, revealing a beauty mark on the back of her neck.

The young nawab, kohl-rimmed eyes lingering with satisfaction, clapped his hands—silver rings flashing in the lamplight. His attendants moved at his gesture. With a pleased nod, he led Ananya into the haveli that very night, marbled corridors echoing with whispers about her beauty.

Meanwhile, the rest of us crowded into the WhatsApp group, messages flying:

"Ab toh Ananya ko hi raid ka bonus milega. She always gets her way, yaar."

"Yaar, I wish I could also fall for some handsome nawab from those times. Bas, ek haveli mil jaaye!"

But the next day, Ananya died a violent, gruesome death.

Inside the nawab’s haveli, amidst carved wooden screens and heavy velvet curtains, a porcelain vase stood eerily lifelike. Inside it, Ananya’s limbs had been chopped off, blood and tears streaked down her face, and the beauty mark on her neck had been gouged out. The sharp scent of ittaar mingled with coppery blood, the silence broken only by the distant azaan floating through the corridors.