𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄:
The humming light bulb above him glowed, casting eerie shadows on the wet walls. Rohit was motionless, elbows on knees, staring at the floor as though looking for solutions that wouldn't come.
The atmosphere was dense—quiet, stifling. One solitary drop of water descended from the ceiling, resonating like a counting clock in an environment where time had ground to a halt.
He cocked his head to the side as though listening.
No voices. No footsteps.
Silence.
But his fingers made fists. Someone had been present. Recently.
On the wall next to him was a scratch—a faint but intentional one. He ran his thumb over it, scowling. It hadn't existed when he walked in. It was a sign. One that he hadn't seen in a long time.
Rohit took a slow breath, compelling himself to stand. His body protested, his brain pleaded for understanding, but his instincts drove him ahead.
And just as he was about to exit, he muttered under his breath, "It's not over."
The door creaked open—and darkness engulfed him.
...
𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭: 𝐀𝐯𝐚
Ava shut the bathroom door hard, her breath catching in her throat. She stood with her back against the chill of the tiles, eyes wide, heart pounding. The familiar apartment seemed strange. The shadows in the hallway stretched further than they should. Every groan of the walls made her jump.
She had returned from Priya's place only with her mother and Anish a few moments ago. But the familiarity of being around her family was momentary. The ache of Rohit's absence in her head. His silence wasn't loud—it was torturous.
She splashed some cold water on her face. The image that stared back in the mirror did not belong to her anymore. Her eyes were too sunken. Her shoulders, too tense.
There was a knock at the bathroom door—light, tentative.
"Ava?" Anish's tone was soft. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she lied, hastily wiping at her face. She pushed the door open, managing a weary smile. "Just needed a minute."
He didn't believe her, but nodded in any case.
"Mom made soup," he said. "You should eat."
She trailed after him into the kitchen, where Priya stood at the stove. The aroma of masoor dal soup filled the air—warm, comforting. But Ava's stomach churned.
"Sit," Priya instructed, nudging a bowl in her direction. "You haven't eaten since breakfast."
Ava sat. She grasped the spoon but didn't take a bite. Instead, her thoughts wandered back to Rohit. Where was he? Why hadn't he called?
Anish leaned forward. "You didn't tell us what happened last night."
Ava's fingers tightened around the spoon. "There's not much to tell."
"There is," Priya told her, beside her. "You came back home bruised and trembling. You haven't mentioned a thing about it."
Ava glared down into the soup. "I said I needed space. And then. he was gone."
"You think he went because of that?" Anish ventured.
"I don't know," she breathed.
There was an uncomfortable, oppressive silence.
Then Priya said, "Do you want to find him?"
Ava's head whipped up. "What?"
"I can pull a few strings," Priya replied. "Your father had connections. If you really believe he's in danger—"
"No," Ava replied hastily. "No, I. I don't even know what I think anymore."
Her voice broke.
Something suddenly struck her.
The alley. The old school. The eerie quiet. The sense of being watched.
What if it wasn't her imagination?
"I think someone's watching me," she whispered.
Both Priya and Anish stared up at her.
"Since when?" Anish asked.
"Since yesterday. No—possibly even sooner."
"You should have told us," Priya said, jumping to her feet. "I'll get someone. We can put cameras—"
"No, that's not the point," Ava cut in. "It's not about catching them. It's about why."
Her voice shook now. "Why now? What did I do? Or what do they need from me?"
The quiet that followed was more deafening than any shout.
Anish broke it at last. "We'll uncover it. Together."
Ava nodded, but inside she knew this went far beyond anyone present in the room. And Rohit—somewhere in this warped tale—was involved.
As the wall clock ticked into midnight, the city outside dropped into greater quiet.
And somewhere far away, a phone vibrated once into darkness.
Unseen.
Unanswered.
And then died again.
.......
The sound of the switch still resonated within Ava's mind long after the room fell silent again. Her heart had not yet slowed; it pounded under her skin like a warning. She stood frozen in the center of the room, her gaze searching every corner, every black crevice of shadow, as if the walls would move.
She grasped the tiny pendant around her neck, something she did when her mind raced too quickly.
Rohit.
His name had popped into her head a moment ago—unbidden, unaccounted for. And now it hung on to her like a voice she couldn't rid herself of.
Where was he?
It had been days since she'd requested space from him. Days since he'd disappeared—no calls, no texts. No reports.
She hadn't wanted him to be gone.
Ava exhaled sharply and turned toward the kitchen, needing something to break the silence. Maybe water. Or just motion.
But before she reached the counter, she heard it.
A creak.
From the hallway.
Her body went rigid.
The apartment had been empty when she arrived. She was sure of it. She'd checked every lock, every window. But now her thoughts spiraled. Had she actually checked the balcony door?
She stepped back, hand trailing against the countertop at her back. She didn't move, didn't shout. Every horror movie instructed her that was the error.
Instead, she drifted on autopilot—quiet, careful steps as she moved toward the hallway.
The creaking ceased.
Ava stopped, caught her breath.
Then—soft. So soft. A shuffle.
Her heart surged.
She sprinted to the nearest drawer, pulling it open and snatching up the first thing her hand found. A pair of scissors.
It wasn't much of a weapon, but at least it was something.
The hallway stretched out in front of her like the maw of something primordial. She could sense the cold radiating from it, as though that corridor had become something else altogether—something off.
She clenched the scissors in her hand and took another step forward.
Another.
The third one groaned under her weight.
She winced.
Silence once more.
She reached the far end of the hall, where the door to her bedroom hung slightly ajar.
It was open when she left, wasn't it?
She couldn't recall now.
Her other hand eased the door slowly open, the hinges making the slightest squeak.
The room was black.
Still.
Her bed unmoved. The window closed.
No one.
She stepped in completely, her breathing slow and shallow. Her gaze swept for anything amiss—the books on the shelf, the tilted painting above her bed, the half-zipped duffel bag she'd never unpacked.
All was as it should be.
But something didn't feel quite right.
She turned to leave.
And froze.
On the floor, just inside the doorway, was a crumpled piece of paper.
It wasn't there when she entered. She was positive of it.
Her stomach hit the floor.
Shaking slightly, she knelt and picked it up, smoothing out the creased, crisp edges.
There was one line written in messy handwriting.
"He was never yours to keep."
Her knees almost buckled.
No signature.
No name.
Just the type of sentence that crawled under your skin because it said more than it meant.
She glanced about the room once more, terror climbing its way up her throat.
How did someone get in?
Why leave this?
Why now?
She retreated, the note still held in her hand, and staggered into the living room. Her fingers acted before her brain could catch up—gripping her phone from the coffee table, calling quickly.
Anish.
He answered on the second ring.
"Ava?"
His voice was heavy. Exhausted.
But safe.
Relief struck her so forcefully that it brought tears to her eyes.
"I—I believe someone was in my apartment."
That brought him awake, full alert.
"What? Are you injured? Are you by yourself?"
"Yes. I mean—yes, I am by myself. No, I am not injured." She struggled to keep her voice steady. "But a note was left by someone. I didn't hear anyone enter. I have no idea how they got inside."
"I'm coming immediately."
She didn't protest.
The voice hung up and for a minute, the stillness closed back in. It was heavier, though, as if something—and possibly someone—was still looming over her.
She gripped the scissors once more and headed to ensure the balcony door. The lock was in place. But then she stepped onto the balcony and cold wind slapped against her skin.
And there it was.
Another sheet of paper.
Under the potted flower.
Again, the writing was brief.
"Don't trust the lights."
She was looking at it.
And gradually, the lights in her living room began to flicker again.
Once.
Twice.
Then the blackness.
Each bulb had blown at the same time.
Ava stood still.
A door creaked behind her.
Not the front door.
Her bedroom door.
She hadn't left it open this time either.
And she hadn't closed it.
She edged back into the balcony corner, phone in one hand, scissors in the other, trying to catch her breath.
She had to get out.
Now.
But before she could move—
A shadow crossed her living room.
She caught sight of it. Just for a fraction of a second. A blur. A movement that didn't belong to her or the apartment.
And then it vanished.
Her phone rang.
Anish: Nearly there. Don't open the door to anyone but me.
Ava didn't respond. She was too scared to even move her position, scared the noise would betray her.
She waited in the dark.
Every second creeping like an hour.
Until she heard the knock.
Three quick taps.
Ava tensed.
"Anish?" she called out.
"It's me. Open up."
His voice. Warm. Real.
She rushed to the front door and flung it open—and nearly collapsed into his arms.
He held her tightly, looked around immediately.
"What the hell happened here?"
She handed him the notes.
He read them in silence, face hardening with every second.
Then his jaw clenched. "You're not staying here tonight."
She didn't argue.
In minutes, they were filling a bag.
As Anish opened the door to phone Priya, Ava hesitated in the hallway. Something had caught her eye on the living room mirror.
A smudge.
A handprint.
Small. Childlike.
But twisted—as if the hand had too many fingers.
And just below it, scrawled into the glass, barely discernible unless the light caught it just so:
"He's watching you sleep."
Ava took a step back, heart slamming into her ribs.
Behind her, Anish came back.
She didn't utter a word.
Took only her belongings.
And went along with him into the darkness.
..............
𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀? 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑳𝒀 𝑫𝑶 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮. 𝑰𝑻 𝑯𝑬𝑳𝑷𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀 𝑻𝑶 𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑾...!
𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙨𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨.