Raj Sahay sipped his steaming hot coffee, gazing out the window of his small Mumbai apartment. The morning sun cast a golden glow over the bustling city, but Raj's mind was already racing with the day's tasks. As a reporter for the Mumbai Mirror, he was always on the lookout for the next big story.

He lived alone in the apartment, preferring the quiet and solitude to focus on his work. The only sound was the hum of the air conditioner and the occasional honk of a car outside. Raj liked it that way. He was a man who valued his independence and didn't like to be disturbed.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Raj's heart skipped a beat as he wondered who it could be. He wasn't expecting any visitors, and he didn't have any friends who would drop by unannounced. He got up from the couch, coffee still in hand, and made his way to the door.

He peered through the peephole, but there was no one in sight. The hallway was empty, and the elevator was still. Raj's curiosity was piqued. He opened the door slowly, looking around cautiously.

On the floor, he spotted a white envelope with his name scribbled on it in a sloppy hand. Raj's eyes narrowed as he picked it up. There was no indication of who might have sent it or how they had managed to get past the building's security.

He closed the door and walked back to the couch, envelope in hand. As he sat down, he examined it more closely. The postage stamp was from Bihar, a state he had never visited. The address was handwritten, and the ink was faded, as if the letter had been written in a hurry.

Raj's journalist's instincts kicked in. Who was behind this mysterious letter, and what did they want from him? He turned the envelope over, searching for any hidden clues or markings. There were none.

Finally, he opened the letter and unfolded the single sheet of paper inside. The message was brief and cryptic:

"Dear Raj,

You're the only one who can uncover the truth. Shivpuri, a village in Bihar, is cursed. They need your help. Come alone.

A friend"

Raj's eyes scanned the letter, his mind racing with questions. Who was this friend, and what kind of truth were they talking about? He had never heard of Shivpuri, and Bihar was a state he had never visited. The idea of a cursed village sparked his journalist's instincts, but he was also wary of getting entangled in some wild goose chase.

As he read the letter again, Raj felt an inexplicable shiver run down his spine. Something about the words resonated with him, like a whispered secret only he could hear. He looked around the room, feeling a sudden sense of unease. The silence seemed oppressive, and the shadows seemed to be closing in on him.

Raj tried to shake off the feeling, telling himself it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. But as he refolded the letter and tucked it into his pocket, he knew he couldn't shake off the feeling that his life was about to take a dramatic turn.

He got up from the couch, his mind already racing with possibilities. Who was behind the letter, and what did they want from him? And what was the truth about Shivpuri, the cursed village in Bihar?

Raj walked over to his desk, his eyes scanning the cluttered surface. He had a story to chase, and he was ready to dig in. The mystery of Shivpuri had already taken hold of him, and he knew he wouldn't rest until he uncovered the truth.

He booked a ticket to Shivpuri, and spent the rest of the day packing his bags. As he lay in bed that night, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was on the brink of something big.

Little did he know, his life was about to change forever.