When Aarav shifted to a rental room near his coaching centre, he was told one rule by the landlord-never try to open the last room on the terrace.
It sounded normal. Old houses always have one strange rule.
But every night at exactly 2:17 AM, Aarav hard foot steps above his selling, slow.
Measured. Like someone walking in circles, at first he ignored it, stress from exams, he thought.
Then one evening while returning from class, he noticed something odd-the terrace door, which was always locked with the heavy chain, had dust only around the lock.....not on it. As if someone touch it daily.
Curiosity grew stronger than fear.
The next night, he stayed awake, 2:16 AM....
silence.
2:17..... footsteps.
He ran upstairs.
The terrace was empty. The locked room stood in the corner, paint peeling, arrested name plate barely readable,"Storage".
But foot steps didn't stop.
They were coming from inside.
Aarav pressed his ear to the door.
Someone was breathing. Not loudly..just....there.
He ran back down, heart racing.
The next day he asked the landlord about the room. The old woman's expression hardend.
"Previous tenant used to study there. Then he left suddenly. Room stays locked now".
"Why?" Aarav asked.
The landlord didn't answer.
The night Aarav borrowed as pair key from the caretaker when he wasn't looking.
At 2:17 AM, with shaking hands, he opened the terrace door... then he locked room. Inside was nothing but an old study table, a broken chair, and walls filled with pencil marks-dates,numbers,and one sentence repeated again and again:"I WAS NOT ALONE."
Aarav felt a chill. The room smeld untouched, yet the dust near the chair was disturbed.
Then he heard breathing behind him.
He turned-no one.
But on the table, fresh pencil mark appeared slowly... as if written by invisible fingers:
"YOU CAN HEAR ME TOO."
Terrified, Aarav ran downstairs and decided to leave the house the next morning.
While packing, he checked his rental agreement again.
Tenant name: Aarav Sharma
Room Number: Terrace study room
His breath stop.
He rust to the landlord.
"But I never leave on the terrace!"
The old man looked confused.
"You did. You interested. You move down stairs only last week because you said... Someone else was using your room at night".
Rflled the ground sleep beneath him.
That night at 2:17 AM, footsteps echoed again.
This time... from his own room.
And Pawan he is study table, written in fresh pencil:
"WELCOME BACK."