The Mansion on Black Hill part 1

Eight friends — Aarav, Kabir, Rishi, Sameer, Dev, Vikram, Ananya, and Meera — planned an exciting road trip during their college holidays. The kind of trip you talk about for years after.

“Finally! Freedom from assignments!” Ananya shouted, tossing her neon-green backpack into the back of Kabir’s SUV. Her hair tie snapped from the force and everyone howled.

Kabir grinned, adjusting the rearview mirror. “Three days of mountains, music, and zero college stress. I repeat: ZERO.”

The journey started exactly how it should: windows down, Arijit Singh competing with Honey Singh on the playlist, and a floor littered with chip packets. Meera leaned out the window, phone in hand, catching the hills as they rolled past like waves. The wind kept snatching her dupatta.

“Dev, stop looking so green,” Sameer teased, waving a packet of chips under his nose. “If you vomit in this car, you’re walking back to Delhi.”

“Shut up,” Dev groaned, pressing his forehead to the cold glass. “Your driving is the problem, not my stomach.”

Everyone burst into laughter. Even Vikram, who usually just smirked, let out a real laugh.

By late afternoon the sky changed. The blue got eaten by gray. Pine trees turned into dark silhouettes and fog started pooling on the road like spilled milk. The music got quieter on its own.

Then it happened.

The SUV gave a violent shudder. GRRR-KHUNK.

Kabir’s smile vanished. “What was that?”

Smoke, thin and bitter, curled from under the hood. The engine coughed, then died.

For five seconds, nobody spoke. Only the tick-tick-tick of cooling metal and rain starting to tap the roof.

Then Vikram sighed, long and loud. “Perfect. Just perfect. Three days of mountains, music, and now a horror movie.”

Ananya hugged herself. Her sweater was suddenly too thin. “Please tell me this is a joke, Kabir.”

Aarav jumped out and popped the hood. A wave of hot, burnt-rubber smell hit him. He tried the key again. Click. Nothing.

“No network either,” Meera said, holding her phone to the sky like that would help. One bar appeared, then vanished. “Great.”

Thunder cracked hard enough to make Dev flinch. The rain went from tapping to pounding in seconds.

They huddled under the hatchback door, shivering as cold water ran down their necks.

Then Rishi grabbed Aarav’s arm. “Guys… look.”

Through the sheets of rain, on a hill half-covered in mist, stood a mansion. It was huge — three stories, wide balconies, stone walls dark with age. But its windows glowed warm yellow, like lanterns in fog.

Kabir exhaled. “Okay. At least somebody lives there. And they have electricity.”

The eight of them locked the SUV and started up the muddy slope. Bags on heads, shoes sinking, Meera still filming. “If we die, at least it’ll go viral,” she muttered, half-joking.

As they got closer, the details came through. Ivy climbed the walls. Stone gargoyles watched from the roof corners. Lanterns flickered on either side of a giant wooden door with an iron knocker shaped like a lion’s head.

Ananya whispered, “This place looks straight out of a mystery movie. The expensive kind.”

Before Aarav could lift the knocker, the door creaked open on its own.

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