Vihaan didn’t sleep.
Not after what he heard.
“Mat kholo.”
The words stayed in his head long after the room returned to normal.
Morning came, but it didn’t feel like relief.
It felt like a pause.
By afternoon, Vihaan couldn’t take it anymore.
He stepped out of the building, the sunlight almost blinding after the heavy darkness of the night.
Everything looked normal.
People walking. Voices. Distant traffic.
Too normal.
As if nothing existed beyond what could be seen.
“Tum theek nahi lag rahe.”
Vihaan turned.
A man stood near the gate, leaning casually against the wall.
He looked older. Calm. Observant.
Too observant.
“Main theek hoon,” Vihaan replied.
The man smiled slightly.
“Room number 3, right?”
Vihaan’s expression hardened. “Haan… kaise pata?”
“Yahan sab pata chal jaata hai,” the man said. “Naam Kashyap.”
Vihaan didn’t respond immediately.
Something about him felt… off.
Not dangerous.
But not safe either.
“Raat ko jagte rehna,” Kashyap added. “Sone ki aadat chhod do.”
Vihaan let out a quiet breath. “Sab log yahi bol rahe hain. Problem kya hai us room mein?”
Kashyap looked at him for a few seconds.
Then he laughed softly.
“Problem?” he repeated. “Tumhe lagta hai problem room mein hai?”
Silence.
Vihaan felt a chill run down his spine.
“Seedha boliye,” he said. “Kya ho raha hai wahan?”
Kashyap stepped closer.
Not too close.
Just enough.
“Jo bhi hai,” he said quietly, “woh bahar nahi aata.”
Vihaan’s chest tightened.
“Phir?” he asked.
Kashyap’s eyes didn’t leave his.
“Log khud usse milne jaate hain.”
That evening—
Vihaan kept thinking about it.
About Naina.
About Kashyap.
About the voice.
“Mat kholo.”
It didn’t sound like a warning meant to scare him.
It sounded like someone trying to protect him.
But from what?
Or from whom?
Night came faster than he expected.
The room felt different now.
Not unfamiliar.
Just… aware.
Vihaan sat on his bed, staring at the cupboard.
Waiting.
2:16 AM.
His fingers tightened around his phone.
His breathing slowed.
2:17 AM.
The light flickered.
The temperature dropped.
But this time—
Something else happened.
The door didn’t open.
The cupboard didn’t move.
Nothing changed.
Vihaan frowned.
“Yeh…” he whispered. “Aaj kyun nahi?”
Silence.
Heavy.
Unnatural.
And then—
A sound.
Not from the cupboard.
Not from the door.
From behind him.
Vihaan turned slowly.
The mirror.
For a second, everything looked normal.
Then—
His reflection moved.
Before he did.
Vihaan froze.
His reflection was still looking at the cupboard.
But he wasn’t.
“Yeh kya—”
The reflection slowly turned its head.
And looked directly at him.
Vihaan stumbled back.
“Yeh possible nahi hai…”
The reflection smiled.
A slow… unnatural smile.
And then—
It raised its hand.
And pointed.
Not at him.
At the cupboard.
Vihaan’s heart started racing again.
“Tum… kya ho?” he whispered.
The reflection’s lips moved.
But no sound came out.
Instead—
The cupboard handle shook violently.
This time—
Not slow.
Not quiet.
As if something inside was trying to force its way out.
“Mat kholo!”
The whisper came again.
Louder.
Desperate.
Not from the cupboard.
From everywhere.
The lights went out.
The mirror cracked.
And in the darkness—
Something laughed.
Not from inside the cupboard.
Not from outside.
But from somewhere much closer.
When the lights came back—
Everything was normal.
Again.
The cupboard was closed.
The mirror was intact.
The room was silent.
Vihaan stood there, shaking.
Because now he knew—
There was more than one thing in that room.
And not all of them…
Wanted him safe.
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