The digital clock on Aisha's bedside table blinked 2:11 a.m.
She sat curled beneath the blanket, back pressed to the headboard, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Sleep refused to touch her. Not after overhearing Aarav's furious argument with the stranger downstairs. Not after the message:
"IF YOU WANT TO LIVE… DON'T TRUST ANYONE."
Her hand tightened around the phone hidden beneath the blanket.
Who sent it?
How did they know?
And why were they warning her?
Aisha squeezed her eyes shut. Think, Aisha. Think.
But every thought twisted into a darker one.
Then—
THUMP.
Aisha jerked upright.
The sound hadn't come from her room.
It had come from the hallway.
Slow. Heavy.
Like something falling.
Or someone trying to stand.
She held her breath.
THUMP… THUMP…
Another noise. Closer.
Her blood went cold.
The sound was coming from… the west wing.
The forbidden wing.
Her hands shook as she slipped out of bed and approached her door. She pressed her ear to the wood, heart pounding violently.
Silence.
Two seconds.
Five seconds.
Ten—
CREEEAAK—
Her door… just moved.
Aisha slapped a hand over her mouth, swallowing a scream.
She hadn't touched the handle.
She hadn't leaned on it.
Something on the other side had pushed it.
Aisha backed away, trembling, as the door slowly opened a crack. Moonlight from the hallway spilled inside, silver and eerie.
But no one was there.
Her legs felt like jelly, but her curiosity—terrifying and unstoppable—dragged her toward the opening.
She peeked out.
The hallway was dim, empty, too quiet. The marble floor glowed faintly from the night lights along the wall.
Aisha stepped into the hall.
The cold air hit her instantly.
Then she noticed something impossible.
A faint golden glow was coming from the far end… the west wing.
Why is the light on?
Aarav always keeps that area completely dark.
Aisha wrapped her arms around herself and walked slowly, every step measured, every sound amplified.
Her shadow trembled on the wall.
Just before the corner, she stopped.
Her breath froze.
The locked door—
the one Aarav had forbidden her to go near—
was open.
Not slightly.
Not halfway.
Wide.
Aisha's heartbeat slammed into her ribs.
"No…" she whispered, backing into the wall.
The smell hit her next—cold, metallic, with a faint trace of hospital disinfectant.
Her stomach twisted.
She shouldn't look.
She should run.
Wake Aarav.
Call someone.
But something invisible pulled her toward the open door.
She moved closer… step by trembling step.
The room beyond was dark. Pitch black. Not even a sliver of light.
"Aarav…?" she whispered.
No answer.
Just the heavy silence of something very wrong.
And then—
WHISPER.
Aisha froze.
A voice.
A woman's voice.
From inside the darkness.
"A… Aisha…"
She gasped, stepping back so fast she hit the wall. "Who's there?"
Nothing.
Then—
Another whisper.
Ragged. Weak. Breaking.
"Help… me…"
Aisha's skin crawled.
It's her.
The woman from earlier.
The one who collapsed.
The one who said Aarav was her husband.
Aisha's breath trembled as she stepped closer to the doorframe.
"Where are you?" she whispered.
A faint movement—
a shift of shadow.
Then a pale hand reached out from the darkness…
Gripping the edge of the doorframe like someone trying to pull themselves back into life.
Aisha's heart nearly stopped.
The woman appeared slowly—crawling forward, her long hair covering her face, her hospital gown dirty and torn.
Aisha fell to her knees instinctively. "You—you're alive!"
The woman struggled to lift her head.
Her eyes—wide, terrified, brimming with pain—locked onto Aisha's.
"You need… to leave…" she whispered.
Aisha grabbed her shoulders gently. "Who are you? Why are you in this room?"
The woman swallowed hard, her breath hitching in fear.
"He… he won't let me go," she whispered, voice trembling.
"Who? Aarav?"
The question burst out before Aisha could stop herself.
The woman froze in horror—
then shook her head violently.
"N-No. Not him. Not Aarav."
Aisha leaned closer. "Then who? Who is doing this to you?"
The woman's body trembled as she whispered:
"Someone you can't see… someone who never left this room… someone who knew Anaya…"
Aisha's blood turned to ice.
Anaya.
Before she could ask another question, the woman grabbed Aisha's wrist with sudden, frantic strength.
Her nails dug into Aisha's skin.
"Listen to me," she gasped. "Leave before he finds out about you. You look… too much like her—"
She didn't finish.
A sudden shadow moved inside the room.
Fast.
Silent.
Like a ripple of darkness.
The woman's eyes widened in terror.
"No… no, he's coming—!"
She screamed—
But the scream was cut off as something yanked her violently back into the pitch-black room.
"Aisha—RUN!"
The door SLAMMED shut with a deafening crash.
Aisha screamed and pounded on it. "LET HER GO! LET HER GO—!"
No sound came from inside.
Just silence.
Thick, suffocating silence.
Her body shook violently.
What pulled her?
Who?
Or… what?
Aisha stumbled back, gasping for air—
Then froze.
Footsteps.
Behind her.
Slow.
Controlled.
Not the woman's.
Not the thing's.
She turned around sharply.
A figure stood in the dim hallway.
Not Aarav.
A different man.
Tall.
Sharp-faced.
Eyes dark as midnight.
The same voice she heard arguing with Aarav earlier.
He stepped closer.
"Aisha," he said softly. "You shouldn't be here."
She backed away. "Who are you?"
The man paused, studying her face like she was a puzzle he already knew the answer to.
Then he spoke:
"I'm the one Anaya called… on the night she died."
Aisha's world snapped.
Her throat tightened.
"She told me," he whispered, stepping closer, "that if anything like this ever happened again—if another woman disappeared—
I should come back."
Aisha's heart slammed painfully.
"Another… woman?"
He nodded.
"Someone who looks like her.
Someone who looks like you."
Her knees weakened.
The man glanced at the locked door behind her.
"He knows you were here tonight," he said quietly. "The danger has already started."
Aisha's voice cracked. "Who? Aarav?"
The man held her gaze.
"No," he said.
"Not Aarav."
He leaned in, voice dropping to a chilling whisper:
"Someone living in this penthouse long before you ever arrived."
Aisha's blood ran cold.
She stumbled backward.
"Who—who are you talking about?"
He answered.
"The one who killed Anaya."
Aisha couldn't breathe.
The man took her trembling hands gently.
"Aisha… you don't have much time."
Her lips parted, tears burning her eyes.
He spoke the words that broke her world open:
"The killer never left.
He's still inside this house."