[3:34 AM - The Longest Minute]
Silence. Itni silence ki apne heartbeat ki awaaz speaker pe bajte gaane jaisi lag rahi thi.
WhatsApp Group: "We The Chaos 🤪"
[3:34 AM]
Myra:Â Guys... knocking band ho gayi
Kavya:Â Dare mat karna door kholne ka
Aarav:Â Relax, probably Mrs. Sharma hogi
Rehan:Â At 3:33 AM? Exactly? On all doors?
Zain:Â Bro my screen is showing something
Zain:Â [Screenshot attached]
Screenshot mein Zain ka game paused tha, but pause menu pe "RESUME YOUR PAST" likha tha instead of "RESUME GAME."
Myra:Â My cards... they're warm. Like someone just touched them
Kavya:Â Can we video call? I'm freaking out
[Group Video Call Started]
Sabke faces screen pe aaye. Kavya ka room background mein completely dark except for phone ki light. Myra bed pe baithi thi, tarot cards chest pe clutch kiye hue. Aarav confident dikhne ki koshish kar raha tha but eyes mein dar saaf dikh raha tha. Rehan laptop ke multiple screens ki light mein creepy lag raha tha. Zain gaming chair pe tha, headphones neck pe.
"Okay, rational explanation dhoondte hain," Rehan analytical mode mein gaya. "Mrs. Sharma ne rules bataye the - 3:30 ke baad rooms se bahar nahi nikalna. Maybe this is part of the experience?"
"Scripted horror experience?" Aarav thoda convinced hua. "Makes sense. Content creators aate honge, toh authentic experience dene ke liye..."
"But mere cards?" Myra cards dikhayi. They were literally glowing with a faint warmth.
"Aur ye photos?" Rehan screen share kiya.
1975 ki photos mein 5 students the. Features clear nahi the, black and white quality kharab thi, but something about their postures, their grouping... exact same tha jaise woh paanchon khade hote the photos ke liye.
"Coincidence ho sakta hai," Kavya journalist brain use kar rahi thi. "Confirmation bias. Hum patterns dhond rahe hain jo exist nahi karte."
[3:45 AM - The Whispers Begin]
"Guys, volume badao apne phones ka," Zain suddenly bola.
"Kyun?" Aarav asked.
"Just... listen."
Sab chup ho gaye. Faint sound aa raha tha. Jaise door koi radio station try kar raha ho tune in karna. Static with occasional words.
"...remember... the pact... blood moon... five souls... one destiny..."
"Ye kahan se aa raha hai?" Myra whispered.
"Mere gaming speakers se," Zain shocked tha. "But they're not connected to anything. Bluetooth off hai, wires nahi hain."
Kavya apna voice recorder check karne lagi. "Guys... mere recorder mein 3 hours ki recording hai. But I never pressed record."
"Play kar," Aarav curious tha.
Kavya ne phone pe transfer karke play kiya. First few minutes silence. Then breathing. Heavy breathing. Phir...
"They don't remember yet. The blood moon isn't full. Three nights. Three tests. Three chances to break free or... join us forever."
"STOP!" Myra almost screamed. "Please stop it."
[4:00 AM - The Dreams That Weren't Dreams]
"I need to tell you guys something," Zain hesitant tha. "Raste mein... I had this weird dream. Main yahan tha, but everything was different. Purana. And I wasn't... me. I mean, I was me but also someone else?"
"Bro, elaboration needed," Rehan confused tha.
"Like... mere hands pe blood tha. But it wasn't scary. It was... ritual jaisa? And you guys were there. Same faces but different clothes. 70s wale."
Myra gasped. "Mere saath bhi... I thought it was déjà vu, but jab hum mansion mein enter hue, I knew exactly where the dining hall would be. Before Mrs. Sharma showed us."
"Mere phone pe," Kavya slowly boli, "drafts mein ek podcast script hai. 'The Lonavala Five' title hai. Maine ye never likha. It's dated yesterday but I swear I didn't write it."
"Dikha," Aarav demanded.
Kavya screen share kari:
"The Lonavala Five - A podcast by Kavya
Episode 1: The Blood Pact
November 11, 1975. Five college students arrive at a mansion for what they think is a weekend getaway. Aarti (21), Mayank (22), Ravi (21), Kirti (20), and Zubair (22) have no idea that they've been chosen. The mansion has been waiting. The cycle must complete. Every 48 years, five must be sacrificed to keep the ancient one sleeping. But this time, something went wrong. The five fought back. They died, yes, but their souls refused to pass on. They made their own pact - to return when the stars align again, to break the cycle. November 11, 2023. The stars have aligned."
"What the actual f-" Rehan started.
"Today is November 11," Aarav whispered.
[4:30 AM - The Mirrors Remember]
"Guys, dare karu?" Myra suddenly boli.
"Kya dare?" Kavya concerned thi.
"Mirror uncover karne ka. Mrs. Sharma ne kaha tha raat ko cover karna, but what if that's the key?"
"Mat kar, Myra," Aarav protective ho gaya.
"But think about it. Horror movies mein answers hamesha उसी cheez mein hote hain jisse sabse zyada darte hain."
Before anyone could stop her, Myra stood up and walked to the mirror. Phone still video call pe tha.
"Myra, please!" Kavya pleaded.
Myra ne dupatta remove kiya mirror se.
For a second, nothing. Phir...
Myra's reflection wasn't alone. Behind her, translucent, stood another girl. Same height, same posture, but wearing a 70s salwar kameez. The girl raised her hand. Myra's hand, involuntarily, rose too.
"I... I'm not doing that," Myra's voice shook.
The reflection mouthed words. No sound, but Myra understood.
"She's saying... 'Finally, you remember me, sister.'"
CRASH!
Mirror shattered. Myra jumped back, phone falling.
"MYRA!" Everyone screamed on call.
Kavya ran to her. "There's no broken glass. Mirror is intact."
Myra touched the mirror. Solid. Unbroken. But in the reflection, spiderweb cracks were visible.
[5:00 AM - The Past Bleeds Through]
"Mujhe bahut specific memories aa rahi hain," Rehan laptop pe kuch type karte hue bola. "1975. November 11. We... I mean, they... came here for a documentary. College project."
"Hum bhi documentary ke liye aaye hain, technically," Zain pointed out.
"There's more," Rehan continued typing. "Ye memories kahan se aa rahi hain mujhe nahi pata but... The mansion wasn't a homestay then. It was abandoned. Locals warned them. Us. Them. F*ck, pronouns are confusing!"
Aarav apna broken camera check kar raha tha. Through the cracked lens, room different dikh raha tha. "Guys, mere camera se dekho."
He turned the camera to show them through video call. Through the crack, furniture dusty and old dikh raha tha. Walls pe cobwebs. And writing. Walls pe kuch likha tha repeatedly.
"DON'T FORGET. DON'T FORGET. DON'T FORGET."
"Ye real time mein hai?" Kavya asked.
"Haan. Crack se jo dikh raha hai woh alag hai from naked eye."
[5:30 AM - The Sun Refuses to Rise]
"Guys," Zain window ki taraf dekh raha tha, "5:30 ho gaye hain. November mein is time tak thoda light aana chahiye."
Sab ne windows ki taraf dekha. Pitch black. No signs of dawn.
"Google check karo sunrise time," Kavya practical thi.
"5:43 AM," Rehan confirmed. "But... guys, mere laptop ka clock stuck hai."
"Kahan pe?"
"3:33 AM. It's been 2 hours but clock hasn't moved."
Sabne phones check kiye. Different times on each device. Myra ka 3:33 AM, Kavya ka 4:45 AM, Aarav ka 2:00 AM, Zain ka 6:66 AM (which wasn't even possible).
"Time distortion," Kavya whispered. "I read about this. Places with heavy traumatic energy sometimes create temporal anomalies."
"Podcast research?" Rehan asked.
"Nahi... I don't know how I know this."
[The Unknown Hour - Mrs. Sharma's Visit]
Knock. Gentle this time.
"Beta, breakfast ready hai."
Mrs. Sharma's voice. Normal. Comforting almost.
"Aunty, what time is it?" Aarav door ke through asked.
"7 AM beta. Aap log soye nahi?"
Sabne phones check kiye. Suddenly sab 7:00 AM show kar rahe the.
"Coming aunty!" Kavya replied.
Footsteps walked away.
"Was that real?" Myra confused thi.
"Only one way to find out," Aarav stood up. "Chalte hain."
[Dining Hall - 7:15 AM (Supposedly)]
Daylight tha. Normal, bright, November morning sunlight. Mansion looked completely different. Cheerful almost.
Mrs. Sharma breakfast serve kar rahi thi. "Aap log thake hue lag rahe hain. Raat ko neend nahi aayi?"
"Thoda restless the aunty," Myra diplomatically answered.
"First night aisa hota hai. Body ko adjust hone mein time lagta hai. Energy yahan different hai."
"Different matlab?" Rehan probed.
"Purani jagah hai na. History carries weight. Aap log sensitive hain, artists hain, toh feel zyada karte hain."
Mr. Sharma, jo ab tak invisible the practically, suddenly appeared. Tall, thin, around 60. "1975 batch ko bhi same problem hui thi."
Everyone froze.
"Aap... aap 1975 mein yahan the?" Kavya journalist mode full on.
"Watchman tha main. Young tha tab. 20-22 saal ka. That night..." he trailed off.
"Kya hua tha uncle?" Aarav gently asked.
"Coffee?" Mrs. Sharma quickly interrupted. "Fresh bani hai."
Mr. Sharma got the hint. "Past is past. Enjoy your stay."
[Breakfast Conversations - Pretending Everything is Normal]
Private messages happening while eating:
Myra to Aarav:Â He knows something
Aarav to Myra:Â We need to talk to him alone
Kavya to Rehan:Â Watchman in 1975? He saw everything!
Rehan to Kavya:Â Mrs. Sharma stopped him. She's protecting us or hiding something?
Zain to Group:Â Guys, check your necks
Everyone:Â What? Why?
Zain:Â Just do it
Sab ne quietly phone cameras se check kiya. Necks pe faint marks the. Like old scars. Circular pattern.
Myra:Â WTF IS THIS?
Zain:Â Appeared after 3:33. I noticed while gaming.
Aarav:Â Sacred thread marks jaisa lag raha hai
Kavya:Â Or noose marks...
Suddenly, bacon strip Rehan ke fork pe tha woh blood mein convert ho gaya. Real blood. Dripping.
"Uh..." Rehan fork drop kar diya.
"Kya hua beta?" Mrs. Sharma concerned thi.
Rehan looked again. Normal bacon.
"K-kuch nahi aunty. Just remembered I'm trying to be vegetarian."
Mrs. Sharma smiled knowingly. "Mansion tests everyone differently."
[10:00 AM - Splitting Up (Worst Idea Ever)]
"Okay, we need answers," Aarav leader mode mein tha. "Let's investigate separately and meet for lunch."
"Splitting up? Really? Horror movie 101 mat follow karo!" Myra protested.
"We'll stay in pairs. Myra, you're with me. Basement check karenge."
Myra blushed slightly despite the situation.
"Main aur Kavya library," Rehan volunteered. "1975 records honge shayad."
"I'll check the third floor," Zain bold tha. "Renovation wala bahana seemed sus."
"Akele mat ja!" Kavya warned.
"Stream karunga. You guys can watch live."
[Library - Rehan and Kavya]
Dusty books, older furniture, smell of decay and knowledge mixed.
"Ye dekh," Kavya pulled out a leather journal. "Guest registry. 1975."
They opened it. November 11, 1975 entry:
"Aarti Sharma, Mayank Patel, Ravi Krishnan, Kirti Das, Zubair Ahmed - Documentary Project - St. Stephen's College, Delhi"
"Same college?" Rehan shocked tha. "That's too much coincidence."
"There's more," Kavya flipped pages. After November 13, the pages were blank. But not empty blank. Like someone had written and erased. Impressions were visible.
Rehan technique use karke pencil se lightly shade kiya. Words appeared:
"The cycle must not break. Five entered, five stayed, five will return. The mansion owns their souls. Blood moon rises every 48 years. Next convergence: 2023."
"Kavya..." Rehan looked at her. "What if we're not here by choice?"
Kavya was staring at something else. A photograph tucked in the journal. Five students. Features clearer than before.
Aarti looked exactly like Myra. Just different hairstyle.
Mayank had Aarav's smile. Same confidence.
Ravi wore glasses like Rehan. Same analytical eyes.
Kirti held a notebook like Kavya always did.
Zubair had gaming magazines (1975 mein bhi gamer tha apparently).
"Rehan... ye hum hi hain."
[Basement - Aarav and Myra]
"Door locked hai," Aarav tried pushing.
"Wait," Myra touched the doorknob. It clicked open. "How did I...?"
"Tere haath dekh!"
Myra's hand pe same circular pattern glow kar raha tha jo neck pe tha.
Basement stairs led down into darkness. Phone flashlights created dancing shadows.
"This is where it happened," Myra suddenly said. "I can feel it."
"Kya happened?"
"The ritual. We... they... tried to stop it. The mansion owners, they were part of some cult. Har 48 years, 5 souls sacrifice karte the. But that time, the five fought back."
"How do you know this?"
"I don't know! It's just... in my head!"
They reached the bottom. Basement mein ek circle tha floor pe. Dark stains. Definitely blood. Old but preserved.
Centre mein 5 names carved the:
Aarti. Mayank. Ravi. Kirti. Zubair.
And underneath:
"Until the debt is paid, you shall return."
"Myra, look at this," Aarav pointed to the walls.
Photographs. Hundreds of them. Different eras. But always five people. Always the same poses. Always the same faces, just different clothes, different time periods.
1735...
"Kitne baar..." Myra's voice broke. "Kitne baar hum marte rahe hain?"
[Third Floor - Zain's Stream]
"Chat, third floor pe aa gaya hun. Mrs. Sharma ne mana kiya tha but YOLO!"
Stream viewers: 5,000+
Chat explosion:
"BRO BEHIND YOU!"
"THE DOOR MOVED!"
"SOMEONE'S WATCHING!"
Zain ignored chat. Third floor wasn't under renovation. It was pristine. Like time had stopped here.
Five rooms. Each with a nameplate.
Aarti. Mayank. Ravi. Kirti. Zubair.
"Guys... ye names..."
He pushed open Zubair's room.
It was his room. Not similar. EXACT. Same gaming setup. Same posters. But everything from 1975. Atari console. Old gaming magazines. And a diary.
Last entry:
"November 12, 1975. Tomorrow we complete the ritual. Not the mansion's ritual. Our own. If we bind our souls together, we can break their cycle. We'll die, yes. But we'll return. Stronger. Together. We'll end this curse that's plagued this land for centuries. Myra... I mean Aarti agrees. Aarav... sorry, Mayank is convinced. We die tomorrow to live again in 48 years. I hope our future selves are reading this. Remember: The mansion can be destroyed only from within. Only when all five accept their past and choose their future. Blood moon is the key. Tomorrow, November 13, 2023, everything ends or begins again."
Zain's hands shook. "Chat... this was written for us."
Stream suddenly cut.
Phone dead.
Room door slammed shut.
And in the sudden darkness, a whisper:
"Welcome home, Zubair."
[To Be Continued...]
Next Chapter: The past and present collide completely. The blood moon rises. And the five must decide - break the cycle or become permanent residents of The Mansion.