Kabir looked at the building and felt cold.
It was a 12-story building in the middle of Dhaka city. Old. Dirty. The paint was falling off. The windows were broken. But the rent was only 3000 taka per month.
In Dhaka, you cannot get a room for 3000 taka. Not even a closet.
But here it was. A full 2-bedroom apartment on the 7th floor. For only 3000 taka.
"Why so cheap?" Kabir asked the landlord.
The landlord was an old man. His name was Mr. Hossain. He smiled. But his eyes did not smile.
"The last tenants left suddenly," Mr. Hossain said. "They said the building was... noisy."
"Noisy?" Kabir laughed. "I sleep like a dead man. Noise doesn't bother me."
Mr. Hossain looked at him strangely.
"Don't say that word here," he whispered.
"What word?"
"Dead."
Kabir laughed again. But inside, something felt wrong.
He took the apartment anyway.
That was his first mistake.
---
The first night, Kabir could not sleep.
Not because of noise.
Because of silence.
The building was completely silent. No traffic sound. No people talking. No TV from other apartments.
Nothing.
At 3:00 AM, Kabir heard something.
A sound from above.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Someone was walking on the 8th floor.
But the landlord said the 8th floor was empty.
No one lived there.
Kabir covered his head with the pillow.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The walking continued all night.
---
The next morning, Kabir went to the 8th floor.
The door was locked. Old locks. Dust everywhere.
No one had opened this door for years.
Then how did he hear walking?
Kabir went back to his apartment. He tried to work on his laptop. But he kept thinking about the sound.
That night, the sound came again.
But this time, it was not on the 8th floor.
It was on his door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Kabir sat up in bed.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He looked at the door. Through the gap at the bottom, he saw something.
Feet.
Someone was standing outside his door.
But who? And why at 3:00 AM?
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Kabir did not move.
Then a voice came.
"Let me in."
It was a woman's voice. Soft. Sad.
"Please... let me in."
Kabir stood up. He walked slowly to the door. He looked through the peephole.
No one was there.
He opened the door.
The hallway was empty.
But on the floor, there was water. Wet footprints. Leading to the stairs.
Kabir followed the footprints.
They went up.
To the 8th floor.
And stopped at the locked door.
---
The next day, Kabir asked the building guard about the 8th floor.
The guard's face turned white.
"Don't go there, sir," he said.
"Why?"
"Bad things happened there."
"What things?"
The guard looked around. Then he whispered.
"A woman lived there. 10 years ago. Her name was Riya. She was young. Beautiful. Engaged to be married."
"What happened?"
"Her fiancé cheated on her. With her best friend. Riya found out on the night of her wedding. She came back to this building. Went to her apartment on the 8th floor. And..."
The guard stopped.
"And what?"
"She jumped. From the 8th floor balcony. She died instantly."
Kabir felt cold again.
"Now," the guard said, "sometimes people see her. Walking on the 8th floor at night. Sometimes she knocks on doors. Sometimes she cries."
Kabir remembered the voice.
Let me in.
"Is that why the rent is so cheap?" Kabir asked.
The guard nodded.
"No one stays here long. They all leave. Some leave quickly. Some... some don't leave at all."
---
That night, Kabir could not sleep again.
At 3:00 AM, the knocking came again.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
But this time, it was louder. Harder.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
Kabir did not move.
Then the voice came again.
"Let me in, Kabir."
He froze. How did she know his name?
"Please... I'm cold. I'm alone. Let me in."
Kabir walked to the door. He looked through the peephole.
A woman stood there.
Young. Beautiful. Wearing a white dress. But her dress was wet. Her hair was wet. Water dripped from her body.
She looked up at the peephole.
And smiled.
Her eyes were completely black.
"I know you can see me," she said. "Open the door."
Kabir stepped back.
"I'm not opening," he said.
"Then I will come in another way."
Kabir ran to the balcony. He looked up.
A hand was coming down from the 8th floor. A woman's hand. Reaching down.
Reaching for him.
---