Raj pov:

As I, stepped off the bus and onto the dusty road, a sense of unease settled in the pit of my stomach. The village of Shivpuri was nothing like I had expected. The air was thick with an eerie silence, and the trees seemed to lean in, as if they were trying to listen to my every thought.

I had been a reporter for over a decade, but nothing could have prepared me for this. The mysterious letter had been cryptic, but it had piqued my interest. I had to know what was going on in this village.

As I walked through the village, I noticed that the people were watching me. They would glance at me quickly, then look away, as if they were afraid of being caught staring. I tried to approach them, to ask for directions or just to strike up a conversation, but they would scurry away, leaving me feeling like a leper.

The village itself was a labyrinth of narrow alleys and crumbling houses. The buildings seemed to be leaning in, as if they were trying to listen to my every thought. I could feel the weight of history bearing down on me, the accumulated secrets and stories that seemed to seep from every stone.

I needed a place to stay, but it seemed like no one was willing to rent me a room. I approached a old man, who was sitting on a bench, watching me with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

"Excuse me, sir," I said, trying to sound friendly. "I'm looking for a place to stay. Do you know of any rooms available?"

The old man looked at me, then spat on the ground. "You're here for work, aren't you?" he asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Yes, I am," I replied, trying to stay calm. "I'm a reporter. I'm just trying to get to the bottom of a story."

The old man shook his head. "We don't want you here. Your work is too risky. We can't take that risk."

I was taken aback. What did he mean? What kind of risk was I posing? I tried to press him for more information, but he just stood up and walked away, leaving me feeling frustrated and confused.

As the sun began to set, I realized that I was running out of options. I had to find a place to stay, or I would be forced to leave the village. But it seemed like no one was willing to help me.

I decided to try one more time, approaching a young woman who was standing outside her home, watching me with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

"Excuse me," I said, trying to sound friendly. "I'm looking for a place to stay. Do you know of any rooms available?"

The woman looked at me, then glanced around nervously. "I...I don't know," she stammered. "My husband might know of something. But you have to be careful. There are things in this village that you don't understand."

I nodded, trying to reassure her. "I'll be careful. I promise. Can I speak to your husband?"

The woman nodded, then disappeared into her home. A few minutes later, a burly man emerged, looking at me with a mixture of suspicion and hostility.

"What do you want?" he growled.

I explained my situation, and the man listened, his expression unreadable. When I finished, he nodded thoughtfully.

"I might have a room available," he said. "But you have to understand, it's not safe. There are things in this village that will try to hurt you."

I nodded, trying to reassure him. "I'll be careful. I promise."

The man looked at me, then nodded. "Okay. You can stay with us. But don't say I didn't warn you."

As I followed him into his home, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was walking into a trap. But I was determined to get to the bottom of the story, no matter what it took.