Arjun stopped sleeping.
Because every time he closed his eyes—
He heard soil.
Being moved.
Slowly.
Dragged.
Like something heavy was being pulled across wet ground.
Shhhhhhh… thud.
Shhhhhhh… thud.
It was 3:16 AM.
He was staring at the ceiling.
Waiting.
3:17.
His phone didn't ring.
No message.
No whisper.
Silence.
And somehow…
That was worse.
The Smell
It started as a faint odor.
Like rain.
But not clean rain.
Wet earth.
Freshly dug soil.
The smell grew stronger.
Arjun sat up.
His room window was closed.
AC off.
Yet the smell was everywhere.
Mud.
Rot.
And something sweet underneath.
Like something dead trying to perfume itself.
He stepped out of bed.
His feet touched something cold.
Soft.
He looked down.
The floor was wet.
Not water.
Dark.
Thick.
Soil.
There was mud all over his bedroom.
Footprints.
Bare footprints.
Leading from the door…
To his bed.
And back again.
His breathing became uneven.
"I'm awake," he whispered.
"This isn't a dream."
He followed the footprints.
They led to the bathroom.
The door was slightly open.
The light inside was off.
He pushed it slowly.
The smell intensified.
The bathtub was full.
Not water.
Mud.
Wet, dark mud.
Moving.
As if something inside it was breathing.
Small bubbles rose to the surface.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
Arjun stumbled backward.
Then the mud shifted violently.
Something pale pushed through the surface.
A hand.
Grey.
Rotting.
Fingernails broken.
The hand grabbed the edge of the tub.
Pulled.
And Meera's face emerged.
But not like before.
Her skin was bloated.
Soil stuck inside her mouth.
Eyes rolled back.
Worms wriggling in her hair.
She opened her mouth—
And mud spilled out.
Not words.
Just soil.
Pouring endlessly.
Arjun screamed.
And suddenly—
He was back in his bed.
Dry.
Clean.
No mud.
No smell.
Clock read 2:58 AM.
He hadn't moved.
Hadn't stood up.
Hadn't walked anywhere.
But his feet—
Were covered in dirt.
The Call from the Grave
The next day, he went to the cemetery.
He didn't know why.
He just needed proof.
The grave was fresh.
Flowers wilted from rain.
He stared at the soil.
And something felt wrong.
It looked disturbed.
Slightly uneven.
Like someone had stepped on it.
Or come out of it.
His phone buzzed.
No number.
Just a black screen.
Then video started playing automatically.
It was shaky.
Dark.
Recorded at night.
The camera pointed at Meera's grave.
The soil was moving.
Slowly collapsing inward.
As if something inside was pushing upward.
The video zoomed closer.
The earth cracked.
A pale eye opened between the soil.
Blinking.
Watching the camera.
Then the video cut.
Arjun dropped the phone.
His hands were shaking uncontrollably.
He looked at the grave again.
Still.
Silent.
But something under it—
Shifted.
The soil sank slightly.
And a faint whisper rose from beneath:
"Too late."
The Third Shadow
That night—
He didn't wait for 3:17.
He locked himself inside his room.
Lights on.
TV on.
Music loud.
He sat in the corner, knees to chest.
"Find him," Meera had said.
Raghav.
Maybe killing him would end this.
Maybe revenge would calm her.
Maybe guilt would stop.
Maybe.
The TV suddenly went silent.
Screen turned black.
But it wasn't off.
There was reflection.
And in that reflection—
Three figures stood behind him.
One was him.
One was Meera.
And the third—
Was taller.
Limbs too long.
Head slightly tilted sideways.
Its face wasn't clear.
Like it didn't want to be remembered.
Arjun didn't turn around.
He couldn't.
His body refused.
Sleep paralysis.
He knew the feeling.
Awake.
But trapped.
He felt something crawl onto the bed.
Slowly.
The mattress dipped.
Then dipped again.
Like weight shifting.
Breath touched his ear.
But it wasn't Meera's.
It was deeper.
Wet.
Ancient.
"You invited us."
His heart pounded so loud he thought it would explode.
"You drove."
Cold fingers slid across his spine.
"But we were already there."
The room temperature dropped violently.
His vision blurred.
He saw flashes—
The accident night.
The truck.
The spin.
And in the backseat—
Not Raghav.
Not Meera.
Something else.
Already sitting there.
Before the crash.
Smiling.
Waiting.
It had been with them the entire time.
The Reveal
Arjun suddenly regained movement.
He spun around.
Nothing.
Room empty.
Door locked.
Window closed.
He laughed.
A broken sound.
"This is trauma."
"This is grief."
"This is guilt."
He walked to the mirror.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Looked at himself.
But the reflection wasn't synced.
It moved slightly delayed.
A second behind him.
He raised his hand.
Reflection raised it late.
Then—
The reflection smiled.
He didn't.
And the reflection whispered:
"She wasn't the first."
Arjun froze.
Images flooded his mind.
Another girl.
Years ago.
A college accident.
A fight.
A brake issue.
He had ignored that too.
She survived.
Barely.
But something had followed him since then.
Something that feeds on guilt.
Something that waits for moments of weakness.
Something that rides in the backseat.
The reflection's eyes turned black.
Not just black.
Endless.
Like tunnels.
"You carry us."
The mirror cracked down the middle.
Blood seeped from inside it.
Not dripping down.
But flowing upward.
Against gravity.
The lights went out again.
But this time—
They didn't come back.
Final Scene
Complete darkness.
Arjun felt the bed sink again.
One weight.
Then another.
Then another.
Three presences around him.
Cold hands touched his face.
His chest.
His throat.
And then—
Something pressed against his ear.
Soft.
Intimate.
Terrifying.
A child's voice.
"You promised you'd drive carefully."
Arjun began screaming.
But no sound came out.
Outside his apartment—
Neighbors later said they heard something strange that night.
Not screaming.
Not crying.
Just the sound of a car engine running.
For hours.
And wipers moving.
Back and forth.
Even though it wasn't raining.
Tak… tak… tak… tak…