A Psychological Horror Novel
By Kuntal Ray
Chapter 5: 1:02 A.M. (Continued)
Knock.
Pause.
Knock.
The sound was controlled. Measured. Not random.
All four of them froze.
The digital clock beside the bed glowed in the darkness: 1:02 A.M.
"No one should be here at this hour," Arnav muttered.
Rahul stood up slowly. His heartbeat felt louder than the sea outside.
Another knock.
This time closer together.
He walked toward the door.
"Who is it?"
Silence.
Not even footsteps retreating.
He leaned toward the peephole.
The corridor was empty.
The lights flickered once.
And then—
At the far end of the corridor, near the emergency exit sign, something pale shifted.
A vertical shape.
Still.
Watching.
Rahul blinked.
The corridor was empty again.
He stepped back from the door.
"There's no one there," he whispered.
But his voice had lost its certainty.
Chapter 6: The Air Inside the Room
After the knocking stopped, no one spoke for several minutes.
The room felt smaller.
Heavier.
The sound of the sea seemed closer now, almost as if the waves were striking the hotel walls directly.
Tanmoy checked the balcony door.
Locked.
The windows.
Locked.
Sayan tried to laugh it off. "Old buildings make noises. Thermal expansion. Wind pressure."
Logical explanations floated in the air, but none of them settled.
At 1:17 A.M., the bathroom tap turned on.
A thin stream of water began to run.
All four stared toward the bathroom door.
No one had gone inside.
Slowly, Rahul walked forward and pushed the door open.
The tap was running steadily.
He turned it off.
When he looked up—
For a fraction of a second—
There were two reflections in the mirror.
His own.
And something standing directly behind him.
He spun around.
Nothing.
The bathroom was empty.
But the temperature had dropped noticeably.
Chapter 7: The Dream
Around 3:00 A.M., exhaustion finally pulled them into a shallow, broken sleep.
Rahul dreamed.
He was standing in the corridor alone.
Room 307 behind him.
The emergency exit light at the end flickered red instead of green.
A woman stood there.
White clothing. Long hair covering her face.
She began walking toward him.
Not quickly.
Not slowly.
Just steadily.
Her footsteps made no sound.
Rahul tried to move—but his feet would not respond.
When she reached him, she stopped inches away.
Her hair parted slightly.
He could not see her face.
But he heard her voice.
"Why didn't you open?"
Rahul woke up gasping.
The clock read 3:33 A.M.
All three of his friends were asleep.
The room was silent.
Except—
From outside the door—
A soft dragging sound moved slowly across the corridor.
Chapter 8: Morning Light Lies
Morning arrived with warm sunlight pouring through the balcony glass.
Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
The heaviness was gone.
The mirror reflected correctly.
The bathroom tap stayed dry.
At breakfast, Rahul described the knocking.
The elderly receptionist listened without interruption.
When Rahul mentioned the figure at the end of the corridor, the old man's hand trembled slightly while holding the teacup.
"Old buildings create illusions," he said calmly.
"But some illusions," he added after a pause, "should not be disturbed."
Rahul felt a chill run down his spine.
Chapter 9: What Happened Before
Later that afternoon, a young hotel employee approached them discreetly near the staircase.
"You stayed in 307," he said quietly.
Rahul nodded.
The employee hesitated.
"A woman checked into that room four years ago. Alone."
"She was found inside the next morning."
"The door was locked from the inside."
"No signs of forced entry."
"No clear cause."
The police report listed it as unexplained.
"But," the employee whispered, "guests sometimes hear knocking at 1:02 A.M."
Rahul felt his throat tighten.
"Why 1:02?"
The employee looked at him carefully.
"That's the time recorded on the emergency call from her phone."
PART:II
The Recording
Chapter 10: The CCTV Room
Before checking out, Arnav insisted on seeing the CCTV footage.
"At least we'll know if someone was actually there," he said.
The elderly receptionist hesitated longer than necessary, then finally nodded.
They were led to a small back room behind the reception desk. A single monitor displayed four camera angles: lobby, staircase, second-floor corridor, third-floor corridor.
The timestamp was set correctly.
They rewound to 12:55 A.M.
The third-floor corridor appeared empty.
1:01 A.M.
Still empty.
1:02 A.M.
The screen flickered.
Static filled the display for two full seconds.
When the image returned, the corridor was visible again.
Empty.
No one approached Room 307.
No shadow. No movement.
Yet Rahul knew exactly when the knocking had begun.
He checked the timestamp again.
1:02 A.M.
Exactly.
Chapter 11: The Audio
"There's no sound recording," the receptionist said quickly.
But Arnav noticed a small recording device connected beneath the monitor.
"Is that connected to corridor audio?" he asked.
The old man's expression changed slightly.
"It's faulty."
"Can we hear it?"
A long silence.
Then the old man pressed a button.
The audio began playing faint background noise—wind, distant footsteps from earlier in the night.
They fast-forwarded to 1:02 A.M.
For a moment, nothing.
Then—
Knock.
Clear.
Close.
Three slow knocks.
All four friends stared at each other.
The knocking was real.
It had been recorded.
But the video showed nothing.
Then something else played in the recording.
A faint sound between the knocks.
Breathing.
Soft.
Very close to the microphone.
And then—
A whisper.
Too distorted to understand.
The receptionist quickly stopped the playback.
"It's interference," he said firmly.
But his face had gone pale.
Chapter 12: The Time 3:33
Back in their room to pack, Rahul kept thinking about his dream.
He checked his phone.
At exactly 3:33 A.M., there had been a missed call.
Unknown number.
Duration: 0 seconds.
His stomach tightened.
He hadn't heard it ring.
He showed the others.
Sayan tried to rationalize it. "Network glitch."
But Tanmoy noticed something else.
The call log timestamp was 3:33 A.M., yet the phone battery history showed a brief usage spike at that exact minute.
As if the screen had turned on.
On its own.
Chapter 13: The Message
They left Digha that afternoon.
The journey back to Kolkata felt longer than usual.
That night, at 1:02 A.M., Rahul's phone vibrated.
One message.
Unknown number.
Three words:
Did you see me?
His hands went cold.
He typed back: Who is this?
Message failed.
The number did not exist.
Seconds later—
Another message.
You were close.
Rahul dropped the phone.
The screen went black.
When he picked it up again, the messages were gone.
No record.
No notification history.
Nothing.
Chapter 14: The Voice File
The next morning, Arnav called.
"Check your phone's voice recorder."
Rahul opened the app.
There was a file recorded at 1:02 A.M.
He had never opened the recorder.
The file was 12 seconds long.
With trembling fingers, he pressed play.
Static.
Then—
Three knocks.
Exactly as before.
Followed by breathing.
And finally, a whisper.
This time clearer.
"Open."
The file ended.
Rahul felt something change inside him.
It wasn't just fear anymore.
It was curiosity.
And curiosity is far more dangerous.
PART III
The Return
Chapter 15: The Decision
Rahul did not tell his friends immediately.
For two nights in a row, at exactly 1:02 A.M., his phone screen lit up without notification. No message appeared. No call was logged. Yet the battery usage spiked. The screen glow reflected faintly against his bedroom wall.
And each night, just before it turned dark again, he heard it.
Three slow knocks.
Not from the door.
From inside the room.
The third night, he stopped pretending it was coincidence.
"I'm going back," he told Arnav.
There was a long silence on the other end of the call.
"Back where?"
Rahul didn't need to answer.
Chapter 16: The Empty Corridor
Digha looked different this time.
Cloudier. Quieter.
The hotel stood where it had always been, but something about it felt altered—like a structure that had shifted slightly in his absence.
The elderly receptionist was not there.
A middle-aged man stood behind the desk instead.
"Room?" the man asked.
"307," Rahul said.
The man paused.
"That room is not available."
"Why?"
"Maintenance."
Rahul glanced at the key board behind the desk.
Key 307 was hanging there.
Untouched.
He pointed at it.
The man's face tightened.
After a moment, he handed it over.
"Lock the door," he said softly.
The same words.
But this time, Rahul understood the weight behind them.
Chapter 17: The Room Remembers
Room 307 smelled different now.
Not damp.
Not dusty.
Just… still.
As if it had not been opened in days.
Rahul stood in the center of the room and listened.
Nothing.
He placed his phone on the table and opened the voice recorder.
1:01 A.M.
He waited.
1:02 A.M.
Knock.
The sound came immediately.
Not from the corridor.
From the wardrobe.
Rahul's breath stopped.
Knock.
Knock.
Three times.
From inside.
The wardrobe door trembled slightly.
Very slowly, Rahul stepped closer.
He reached for the handle.
It felt cold.
Colder than metal should be.
The knocking stopped.
Silence returned.
He opened it.
The wardrobe was empty.
Except for one thing.
A faint scratch on the inner wood.
Three vertical lines.
Chapter 18: 1:02
Rahul stayed in the room.
He did not leave.
At 3:33 A.M., the mirror began to fog from the inside.
Letters formed slowly on the glass.
Not drawn by a finger.
Appearing.
OPEN
Rahul's chest tightened.
"Open what?" he whispered.
The balcony door clicked.
Unlocked.
The wind outside grew stronger.
The sea roared violently.
Rahul walked toward the balcony.
Below him, the beach was empty.
Except—
Someone stood directly beneath Room 307.
White clothing.
Looking up.
Waiting.
Rahul stepped back.
His phone vibrated.
One new message.
You came back.
Chapter 19: The Truth About 307
The next morning, Rahul searched local archives in Digha.
He found a small newspaper clipping from four years ago.
"Unexplained Death in Seaside Hotel."
The woman's name was Mira Sen.
Time of emergency call: 1:02 A.M.
Time of death estimated: 3:33 A.M.
The article mentioned something strange.
Neighbors in nearby rooms had reported hearing knocking.
From inside her room.
Chapter 20: The Door
That night, Rahul made a decision.
At exactly 1:02 A.M., when the knocking came—
He would answer.
The clock turned.
1:02 A.M.
Knock.
He walked to the door.
His hand hovered over the lock.
Knock.
Slower this time.
Waiting.
Rahul unlocked the door.
The corridor was empty.
But the emergency exit light flickered red.
At the far end—
She stood there.
Closer than before.
Not walking.
Just present.
The air felt thick, almost liquid.
"Why?" Rahul whispered.
Her head tilted slightly.
Then—
The knocking came again.
Behind him.
From inside the room.
Rahul slowly turned.
The door to Room 307 was closing on its own.
He stood in the corridor.
Outside.
The door shut completely.
Click.
From inside the room—
Three knocks.
Chapter 21: The Last Record
The next morning, hotel staff found Room 307 locked from the inside.
Rahul was not in the corridor.
Not in the hotel.
Not anywhere nearby.
His phone was found on the bedside table.
The voice recorder was running.
The final recording lasted 33 seconds.
Three knocks.
Heavy breathing.
And Rahul's voice.
Soft.
Confused.
"I opened it."
Then silence.
Chapter 22: Room 307
The hotel still operates.
The sea still roars.
Room 307 is sometimes marked "Under Maintenance."
Yet occasionally, a guest insists on staying there.
At 1:02 A.M., the knocking begins.
And if someone finally opens the door—
The corridor will be empty.
But the room
Will not be.