The rain began at exactly 11:47 p.m.
In the hill town of Shailgarh, rain never fell without reason. At least, that's what the old people said.
Aarav stood at his bedroom window, watching the fog crawl up from the valley like something alive. His dog, Beauty, whimpered softly at his feet. She never feared thunder. But tonight, she wouldn't stop staring at the forest beyond their house.
And then the lights went out.
Not flickered.
Not dimmed.
Gone.
The entire town sank into darkness.
Aarav's phone buzzed immediately. One message. Unknown number.
"Don't turn on any light. They'll see you."
His heartbeat stuttered.
"They?" he whispered.
Beauty growled — low, deep, not like herself.
From the forest came a sound. Not wind. Not an animal.
A synchronized metallic hum.
Aarav's mind raced. Power cuts were common during storms, but this was different. The rain had stopped.
Completely.
He turned on his flashlight instinctively.
The moment he did, every window in the neighborhood lit up at the same second.
All of them.
As if someone flipped a master switch.
Aarav froze.
No electricity.
No generators.
Yet warm yellow light glowed from every house — except his.
His phone buzzed again.
"You turned it on."
The lights in the houses across the street went out instantly.
One by one.
Until only a single house remained illuminated.
The Sharma house.
But the Sharmas had moved to Kolkata three months ago.
Beauty barked sharply and ran toward the front door.
Aarav grabbed a kitchen knife before he even realized he had moved.
The illuminated house door creaked open.
A silhouette stepped out.
Tall.
Unnaturally tall.
Its head tilted too far to one side.
The streetlights flickered — though there was no power.
The figure turned slowly.
Not toward Aarav's house.
Toward the forest.
And then more silhouettes emerged from the trees.
Dozens.
All bending slightly, as if adjusting to gravity.
Aarav's phone buzzed a third time.
This time, it wasn't a message.
It was a live video call.
From his own number.
He stared at the screen.
The video showed his bedroom.
From inside.
The camera angle was wrong.
Too high.
From the ceiling corner.
He looked up slowly.
Nothing.
The video version of him on the screen wasn't frozen in fear.
It was smiling.
And it whispered:
"They only come for the ones who look."
The call ended.
The last illuminated house went dark.
And from behind Aarav, inside his room —
A breath.
Not his.
To be continued…