It was night, almost 10:15 p.m. I suppose. After eleven hours of endless tracks and blurred landscapes, the train finally reached its final destination. The station stood lonely under the heavy sky, where darkness and silence seemed to lean in closer as the darkness whispered in every corner. Apart from a few dim, sputtering lights, the place seemed less like a railway station and more like an abandoned ghost mansion.

I stepped off the train, my backpack digging into my shoulder. My sketchbook was pressed tightly against my breast like it was shielding me from the world. My head was a cocktail of excitement, fear, and sleep deprivation. I had finally reached Indore—a city I’d never seen before—chasing a dream bigger than anything I had ever dared before.

JSM Animation Studios. The name itself felt magical. India’s biggest 2D animation company. And in just a few hours, I had to be there—for what might be the first day of the rest of my life.

But destiny, as always, had other plans.

As I stepped off the train and glanced around, there was not a single soul in sight—no human, no animal, not even a bird soaring above. It was eerily strange. In a city like Indore, with its vast railway station, there were no proper lights, nothing crowded, and no sign of any order. It was as if the station itself had vanished into the night. It felt... off.

Without a second thought, I walked out of the station. Across the road, about 300 meters ahead, I noticed a faint streetlamp glowing at the corner. Beneath it stood a small wooden tea stall, where the tea vendor was packing up his things. I made my way toward him. As I walked closer, I had the distinct feeling that a vehicle had pulled over somewhere behind me. I quickly turned around, but nothing was there. It was nothing but a trick of my restless mind — no wonder, after all the time spent watching ‘Stree’ en route.

Suddenly, Rudra’s (Pankaj Tripathi's character in Stree) three survival tips for escaping Stree started flashing through my mind.

But then a thought struck me — wait, what!
I am a Stree myself. Why should I be scared of anyone?

I turned back to the tea stall, where only the sound of the vendor packing his utensils filled the heavy silence of the night.

When I reached him, he looked up slowly and, catching my gaze, spoke, “I’m out of tea, ma’am.”

Smiling, I replied, “Oh, no, I don’t need tea.”

The tea vendor paused, turned around, and, with a curious tone, asked, “If not tea, how may I serve you, then?”

“I wasn’t looking for anything special; I just needed to know where I could find an auto or a taxi.”

“You're joking, aren't you, ma'am?" The tea vendor said with a sarcastic chuckle, "In a place like this, where there’s not a soul in sight, how do you expect to find an auto or taxi in the middle of the night?”

I shook my head in disbelief. "What kind of city is this, Indore? No lights, no people, no autos or taxis... and this abandoned wasteland of a railway station."

"What? Indore?" He looked at me, almost amused. "Who told you this is Indore? This is Depalpur, ma'am. Indore is still 21 kilometers away."

With that, he hopped on his bicycle and rode off into the darkness.

“What the fuck? Now what? I had to reach the JSM Studio by 7 AM.” I muttered to myself, staring at the blurry GPS screenshots on my phone. Thanks to some divine joke, as if getting off at the wrong station wasn’t enough — now there’s not even an auto or taxi around. What luck! What am I supposed to do now? Where do I even begin?

My excitement crumbled into sheer frustration. How could I have been so careless? I should have double-checked the maps, the signs — everything.

Frustrated, I spun around, stomping my foot, and the moment I did, a sudden wave of fear knocked the breath out of me, as that’s the first time I saw him.

A guy. Standing alone, just near the gate.

He looked… calm. Not lost like any newcomer. He was leaning casually against an old rusted signboard and smoking like the whole city was his private lounge. He wore a gray denim shirt and dark blue jeans, a simple duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His headphones hung around his neck, and he was looking at his phone like he already knew where he was going.

He was tall, smart, and handsome with a slightly dusky complexion; his messy hair looked like it had been perfectly ruined on purpose. His shirt sleeves were rolled just perfectly — that’s why the veins on his arm were clearly visible. Annoying — there was something in his eyes—something that couldn’t be readable.

Maybe I should have stopped right there. Called someone. Because everything around me screamed that something was off — strange and unwelcoming.

But no. I started walking towards him.

Our eyes met for barely a second. He raised an eyebrow, as if amused by something only he could see. Then he looked away, pretending I wasn’t there.

I slowed down a little. I didn’t want to look nervous, but I couldn’t ignore him either. Oh gosh, he is damn hot.

Wait...wait...wait, I wasn’t checking him out. I was just…observing. Artist instincts, okay?

I stepped closer, as if drawn by some invisible force, my pulse quickening with each uncertain footstep. I tried to speak, but the words died in my throat, strangled by a silence so thick it almost felt suffocating. The air felt heavy, charged — a tension that hung between us like a storm ready to break. For a moment, I froze, unable to escape the grip of the unknown, before I turned away. My feet moved swiftly, my body an unwilling prisoner to the need to run, as if he were nothing more than a fading shadow, lost in the darkness.

The world around me seemed to swallow him whole, and yet... his voice cut through the stillness, a whisper of something I couldn’t ignore: “JSM Animation Studios. Don't worry. There’s a shortcut...only 17 kilometers. Locals always go that way.”

I blinked, confused.
"Sorry?"

He smiled a little, just enough to look confident but not arrogant.
“You're out here past ten on a night when autos and taxis are off the grid, and you have just 8 hours to cover the whole distance. So, what do you think — do you really have any other option to reach JSM Studios on time?”

I hesitated. Thinking, how did he know? and said,
“Wait a minute. How do you know I’m going to JSM?”

“You’re holding that sketchbook like it’s your firstborn. And on top of that, you’ve been muttering ‘JSM’ every other line since you walked up to me, just after the tea vendor. Must be a new recruit.”

I rolled my eyes.
“Sherlock Holmes – level deduction, huh?”

He chuckled.
“Thanks. I try.”

Ugh. Self-obsessed much? Me in my mind.

“Are you coming?” he said casually, already walking ahead.
I didn’t say anything and just started thinking to myself. "Great. Is he going to the JSM studio as well? If yes, is it safe for me, or could things get uncomfortable?"

“Cool,” I said, brushing past him. Then, I don’t know why, but I spoke with a bit of attitude for no reason, “I’ll walk by myself.”

He didn’t seem bothered at all. He simply shrugged and continued walking beside me.

“You can walk alone,” he said casually.

I rolled my eyes.
“You talk a lot for someone I just met.”

He chuckled.
“You rolled your eyes. That counts as talking.”

I sighed. This guy. I already knew this was going to be a long walk.

We kept walking in silence for a while. The city sounds slowly faded as we turned into a quieter street. Streetlights were fewer here. The shops were mostly shut, except for a tiny general store with flickering lights.

I hesitated. I didn’t usually trust strangers. But then again, we were both strangers in a new city, walking into a shortcut that sounded like a horror movie plot.

So, I started following him.