The old house at the end of Maple Street had been empty for years. People in the town of Birahimpur whispered that something strange had happened there long ago. No one knew the full story, but everyone avoided walking past it after sunset.
One rainy evening, 16-year-old Aarav stood in front of the rusted gate. He had just moved to town with his parents, and their new house was right opposite the abandoned one. From his bedroom window, he could clearly see its broken balcony and dark windows.
That night, around 12:07 a.m., Aarav woke up suddenly.
Thud.
He sat up in bed.
Thud… Thud.
It was coming from outside.
He slowly walked to the window and pushed the curtain aside. The street was empty. The streetlight flickered weakly.
Rainwater dripped from the trees.Then he saw it.
A faint yellow light glowing from the upstairs window of the abandoned house.
"That's impossible," he whispered. "No one lives there."
His heart began to beat faster.
Suddenly, the light went off.
Complete darkness.Aarav tried to convince himself it was just his imagination. Maybe lightning? Maybe a reflection? He stepped back from the window.
CREAK.
This time the sound didn't come from outside
.It came from inside his house.
From downstairs.
Aarav froze.His parents were out of town for the night.
He was alone.
He grabbed his phone, turned on the flashlight, and slowly opened his bedroom door.
The hallway was silent.
Too silent.Step by step, he moved toward the staircase.
Another creak.
The main door downstairs was slightly open.
"I'm sure I locked it…" he muttered.
Cold air rushed inside.
And then—He saw muddy footprints on the floor.
Leading from the main door…Up the stairs.
Toward him.
Aarav's breath stopped.
Someone was already inside the house.
And they were not downstairs.
They were on his floor.
Behind .