Sitara travels to her grandmother's house, hoping for a peaceful summer, caring for her sick grandma, and exploring ideas for her future bakery shop. However, her dreams are shattered when a bloodthirsty Dayan sets her sights on stealing Sitara's so...
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Under the eerie glow of the moon, Sitara found herself surrounded by a strange forest, its trees standing tall and uniform like soldiers in formation. Each tree seemed carefully placed, casting long shadows that danced in the moonlight. The lifeless trees stretched their skeletal branches towards the night sky, resembling bony fingers. Despite the unsettling atmosphere, there was something oddly familiar about the place, as if she had been there before.
Sitara's hair danced wildly in the howling wind. With each gust, the wind mercilessly swept away the fallen leaves, leaving behind a barren ground. The cold air sent shivers down her spine, causing goosebumps to appear on her arms. She shivered and tried to pull her jacket around her, only to find she was not wearing one.
In the distance, she spotted a giant tree, weighted down by a strange red flower. A mysterious silhouette sat in front of it, its gaze fixated on Sitara, causing a shiver to run down her back. Then a viny hand beckoned her towards the tree.
Sitara's legs seemed to have a will of their own, drawing her closer to the mysterious figure. The crunch of dry leaves echoed beneath her feet as she approached the tree. The figure stood on top of a stone circle. The person pushed the hood away, revealing their face. Sitara gasped. It was Grandma. The dayan.
Grandma looked much skinnier than the last time Sitara had seen her, almost like a different person altogether. Her skin was stretched tightly over her bones, and vines twisted around her body and face, making her look eerie, like a Halloween mask.
Sitara couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine as she watched the dayan approach. If it weren't for the unseen force holding her in place, Sitara would have bolted away in terror.
"Sitara," said the voice that once used to warm Sitara's heart, but now only made her cold with fear. Her grandma looked down at her with a smile. "You come." She took a step ahead and stumbled.
Sitara was about to run and catch Grandma but stopped herself mid-way. Sure, she felt bad, but the woman wasn't her grandma but the dayan. And the witch would kill Sitara and drink her blood. Sitara forced her legs to stop. This time they obeyed her, and she backed away.
"Listen to me," said Grandma, her voice sounding sad and desperate. Sitara felt a tug at her heart, but she knew she had to stay strong. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind from the dayan's influence.
"Please, I beg you, don't abandon me," te dayan whimpered, her voice pleading for mercy. "You promised to help me."
"I didn't know you wanted to drink my blood," Sitara snapped, her fear mingling with anger.
"No," the dayan said weakly, her voice choked with coughs. "It's a lie, darling. I'll never kill you. Come back to grandma." Blood trickled from her mouth as she spoke. "I love you. I'll never hurt you."
"You are lying," Sitara said firmly.
The dayan straightened up as if she suddenly got the energy. "So, it seems like you are not going to be swayed by emotions."
Sitara felt a surge of anger. She was proud of herself for not falling for the dayan's manipulation.
"It's okay, darling," the dayan smirked, her voice dripping with malice. "I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve to make you come crawling back to me."
Two figures emerged from behind the tree and stood before Sitara. She gasped when she recognized them as her mother and father. They wore distant expressions, and each held a knife in their hand.
Grandma nodded, and the two of them obediently placed the knives against their throats.
"What are you doing?" Sitara cried out in horror.
"Taking blood." The dayan circled Sitara's parents, her eyes gleaming with madness. "It has to be the blood. If not yours, then theirs."
Sitara's father ran the knife from the base of his neck upwards, allowing blood to pour out from the wound.
"Stop, Dad!" she screamed, her voice cracking with fear.
But her father continued, his movements robotic and controlled by the dayan's spell. Her mother followed suit, digging the knife into her skin.
"Mom, Dad, please stop!" Sitara pleaded desperately, tears welling up in her eyes. "Snap out of it! She's a dayan!"
Grandma chuckled smugly, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Only I can make them stop, darling," she taunted.
Frustration surged through Sitara as she clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. "He's your son! Tell him to stop!" she cried out.
"I want blood, darling," the dayan declared coldly, her grin widening with each passing moment.
As the knives edged closer to her parents' necks, Sitara's fear reached a breaking point. "Stop them, or else!" she threatened.
But her words fell on deaf ears as the dayan merely laughed, reveling in Sitara's helplessness.
"What will you do, darling?" Grandma challenged.
Sitara frantically searched for any weapon or means to stop her parents from harming themselves. Suddenly, her father lowered the knife to his heart.
"Dad!" Sitara cried out, rushing towards him, but she was abruptly pushed away by an unknown force. She tumbled and landed amidst a pile of dry leaves.
"You want them safe, then, darling," Grandma whispered menacingly as she approached Sitara, pulling her to her feet and brushing off the leaves. Sitara trembled as the witch drew closer, their faces inches apart.
"Then do as I say," Grandma commanded, her voice low and chilling. "Come back to me or else," she added ominously.
In an instant, Sitara's mother anf father raised their knives and aimed them at their hearts.
"No!" Sitara's scream pierced the chilled air, echoing through the eerie forest.
