I Am The Villainess?

Shama sat on the cold stone floor, her heart racing as panic gripped her. The remnants of her gown hung in tatters around her, soaked in Naina’s blood. She could still feel the warmth of the crimson liquid seeping into her skin, a stark reminder of the life she had almost taken.

*What have I done?*

Her mind swirled with disbelief and terror. *How did I end up here? I didn’t sign up for this. Am I the villainess?*

Suddenly, a shadow fell over her. She looked up, and her breath hitched. Ekansh stood at the doorway, his demeanor calm and collected, a stark contrast to her chaotic state. The way he tilted his head slightly, the faint smile on his lips, made him seem almost too serene for the situation.

His eyes flicked down to the blood-stained gown, the dirtied hands, and then back to her face. Something dark shifted behind his cool gaze.

“You’ve made quite the spectacle,” he said quietly, stepping into the room. His tone was even, though it carried an unmistakable weight of authority. He was scrutinizing her, taking in every detail—the way her gown was torn, the fear in her eyes. “Not what I expected from Shanaya.”

Shama swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. “I... I didn’t mean to—” she started, but the words caught in her throat. What could she even say?

Her heart dropped. She knew the storyline all too well. Rehan would never forgive Shanaya for this. Shanaya was sentenced to death for her crimes, her life snuffed out without mercy. I’m supposed to die, she thought, panic creeping up her spine.

Shama felt a surge of desperation, her thoughts racing. I can’t just sit here and wait for them to kill me. She had to get out, had to think of something. Her eyes darted to the open door behind him. The forest. It was the only place she could run to, the only possible chance at escape.

Without thinking, she bolted past him.

Shama’s legs trembled beneath her as she ran through the dim corridors, the weight of everything pressing down on her like a storm. The torn hem of her bloodstained gown slapped against her legs with every stride, the coppery scent of Naina’s blood clinging to her hands. She didn’t know where she was going, but she ran anyway.

*There’s no way out... There has to be a way out!*

Her thoughts raced as wildly as her feet, desperate to escape the fate she knew awaited her. She was lost, deep inside a palace she didn’t recognize, in a body that wasn’t her own.

*Think, Shama, think!* she urged herself. *Where do people run in these kinds of stories? The forest! I saw it—there’s a forest nearby!*

The cold air stung her lungs as she turned blindly down another corridor. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Panic blurred her thoughts, but she forced herself to focus.

She stumbled over a crack in the stone floor and fell hard, scraping her knees and palms. Her breath hitched as pain shot through her legs, but she bit down on her lip to stifle a sob. *Get up. Keep going.*

Before she could push herself to her feet, a shadow loomed over her.

"Going somewhere?"

She looked up, and her heart sank. Ekansh stood a few paces away, his calm demeanor almost eerie. He wasn’t breathing heavily, wasn’t even remotely flustered. It was as if he’d been strolling through a garden instead of chasing down someone marked for death.

Shama scrambled backward on her hands and knees, her gown dragging across the cold floor.

Ekansh tilted his head slightly, a serene smile touching his lips. “You look... lost.” His voice was soft, gentle even, but it carried a subtle malice that made her stomach twist.

“You’ve wandered into quite the trap, Shanaya.” he continued in that same calm tone. “There’s no escape. Not for you.”

Shama’s heart pounded in her chest as she stared into his dark, unreadable eyes. Despite the gentleness in his voice, the hatred in his gaze was unmistakable. He hated Shanaya with every fiber of his being, and now, that hatred was directed at her.

He crouched down slowly, his gaze lingering on the torn gown and the blood staining her hands. His lips twitched as if amused by her disheveled state. “Not quite the proud princess anymore, are you?”

“Stay away,” Shama whispered, inching backward.

Ekansh’s smile deepened, but there was no warmth in it. “No need to run. It’s over, Shanaya.” He paused, his smile sharpening. “Let's end this game of yours, shall we?"

In a swift motion, he lunged forward, his hand wrapping around her throat. Shama gasped as she felt the pressure tighten, her breath cutting off abruptly. Her eyes widened in terror as she struggled against his grip, clawing at his fingers, desperation flooding her system.

“Please… no…” she managed to choke out, but her voice was barely a whisper.

Ekansh’s eyes gleamed with a cruel satisfaction as he tightened his hold, his expression an unsettling blend of calm and menace.

Shama’s vision blurred at the edges as she fought to breathe. Panic surged within her, each gasp growing weaker, her strength slipping away. Darkness began to encroach upon her consciousness, a chilling curtain closing in. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears, the world fading around her.

Just when she thought she might lose consciousness entirely, a brilliant light erupted from the locket resting against her chest. It surged forth with blinding intensity, enveloping her in a warm, radiant glow.

Ekansh recoiled in agony as an electric shock coursed through his arm, where it made contact with her body. The light shot through Shama, illuminating her features and sending ripples of power radiating outward. The force of it was staggering, knocking Ekansh back and loosening his grip just enough for her to draw a desperate breath.

She coughed violently, her chest burning, vision still hazy from the lack of oxygen. Every breath felt jagged, her limbs heavy and sluggish, but she had no time to recover.

She pushed Ekansh to the ground and staggered to her feet, her legs wobbling beneath her. Ekansh hissed in pain, still recovering from whatever otherworldly energy he had experienced just now.

Without a backward glance, Shama stumbled out of the room and down the corridor. The cool night air hit her like ice as she burst from the palace doors, her body screaming in protest with every step.

The forest loomed just ahead, dark and dense. Branches clawed at her skin, tearing at what remained of her gown, but she pushed forward, tripping over roots and stones. Her lungs burned, each breath shallow and painful. But no matter what she had to keep going.

Just as the forest swallowed her whole, she glanced back. Her heart lurched. Shadows shifted behind the treeline, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her foot caught on a root, sending her sprawling to the ground with a sharp thud.

The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, and the world spun. She clawed at the dirt, trying to push herself up, but the dizziness was too much. Her arms gave out, her vision dimming at the edges.

The last thing she heard before the darkness claimed her was the faint crunch of footsteps—steady, deliberate, and far too close.