#2

After Inspector Mehra disappeared, the room was sealed by the police. Yellow tape covered the door. No one was allowed inside.

But the building’s night guard, Rafiq, noticed something strange.

Every night at exactly 2:17 a.m., the Wi-Fi router lights started blinking rapidly — as if two devices were suddenly connecting.

Aarav’s phone.

Inspector Mehra’s phone.

Both still online.

Three days later, a young cyber officer named Neha was sent to investigate. She didn’t believe the rumors about the room.

“Phones don’t send messages by themselves,” she said calmly.

At midnight, she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The room smelled damp, like old concrete after rain.

The crack on the wall was still there — thin, silent, stretching from the ceiling down to the floor.

Neha placed her laptop on the bed and connected to the Wi-Fi.

“Let’s see who’s really sending these messages,” she muttered.

1:59 a.m.

2:05 a.m.

Everything was normal.

But at 2:17 a.m., both phones suddenly lit up.

Unknown Number:

“Another one.”

Neha frowned. “Got you.”

She quickly traced the signal.

Her screen froze.

The signal wasn’t coming from outside the building.

It was coming from inside the wall.

The crack made a soft tick sound.

Then another.

Like something tapping from the other side.

Her laptop screen flickered.

A new message appeared on both phones.

“Look closer.”

Against her better judgment, Neha stepped toward the wall.

The crack slowly widened… just a little.

And inside it, she saw something impossible.

Not darkness.

A room.

Another room behind the wall.

Dimly lit.

With two figures standing inside.

Aarav.

Inspector Mehra.

Both staring straight at her.

Their faces were pale, their eyes wide — like they had been trapped there for days.

Aarav suddenly lifted his phone and typed.

Neha’s phone buzzed.

Aarav:

“DON’T COME CLOSER.”

Before she could step back, a third message appeared.

Unknown Number:

“Too late.”

The wall suddenly cracked open with a loud snap.

Cold air rushed out of the opening.

Neha screamed as something invisible pulled her forward.

Her laptop crashed to the floor.

The phones went silent.

At 2:19 a.m., the Wi-Fi router showed three devices online.

The next morning, the room was empty again.

Only one thing had changed.

The crack on the wall was now big enough for a hand to reach through.

After Neha disappeared, the building was evacuated. Police locked the entire floor. No one was allowed near the room anymore.

But technology doesn’t forget.

At the cyber crime office, a junior technician named Rohit was reviewing the network logs Neha had left behind.

Three devices connected at 2:17 a.m.

Aarav’s phone.

Inspector Mehra’s phone.

Neha’s phone.

Every night.

And every night, one strange data packet was sent from the same place.

Inside the wall.

Rohit zoomed into the signal map again and again. The location didn’t change.

The room.

Or something behind it.

Curiosity defeated fear. That night, Rohit went to the building.

The hallway was silent. Dust covered the police tape. The electricity had been cut off, but the Wi-Fi router still blinked faintly in the darkness.

Rohit unlocked the door.

The room felt colder than before.

The crack on the wall had grown even larger — now shaped almost like a doorway.

Three phones lay under the bed.

All of them suddenly lit up.

2:17 a.m.

Unknown Number:

“You found us.”

Rohit swallowed. “This isn’t funny.”

Another message appeared.

“They tried to leave.”

The crack made a slow grinding noise.

Rohit shined his flashlight inside.

What he saw froze his blood.

It wasn’t another room.

It was an endless dark space — like a hollow tunnel inside the building.

And inside that darkness stood three figures.

Aarav.

Inspector Mehra.

Neha.

But something was wrong.

Their bodies were stiff. Their heads tilted slightly, like puppets with broken strings.

Then all three slowly raised their phones.

Rohit’s phone buzzed.

Three messages arrived at the same time.

Aarav: “Help us.”

Mehra: “Don’t trust it.”

Neha: “RUN.”

Before Rohit could move, a fourth message appeared.

Unknown Number:

“They belong here now.”

Suddenly, the three figures in the darkness smiled.

Not normal smiles.

Wide.

Too wide.

The crack stretched open with a horrible tearing sound.

Long pale hands began crawling out of the wall — dozens of them.

Phones started vibrating violently on the floor.

Rohit ran for the door.

Behind him, something whispered from the crack:

“Stay online.”

The next morning, the police returned after receiving strange signals from the building’s network.

The room was empty again.

Four phones were found under the bed.

All fully charged.

All connected to Wi-Fi.

And every night at 2:17 a.m., the status changes.

Last seen… becomes… Online. 👁️📱

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