आपने कहा:Hi chatgpt tum ek 1500 word me ek English horror story banao or iska thumbnail bhi bana do and story ka thumbnail me naam likh dena Sulabh to horror, webnovel ke liye story banana he
ChatGPT ने कहा:इमेज बनाया गयाशेयर करें
आपने कहा:Horror 1500 english word me story likh do
ChatGPT ने कहा:Here is your original 1500-word horror story for Webnovel:
Sulabh to HorrorThe smell reached him before the building did.
It was the kind of smell that crawled inside your nose and refused to leave — damp walls, rusted pipes, and something older. Something rotten.
Sulabh had never believed in ghost stories.
At twenty-two, he considered himself practical. Logical. Brave. When his friends dared him to spend one night inside the abandoned public restroom at the edge of town, he laughed.
"It's just an old Sulabh complex," he said confidently. "Concrete and broken taps can't hurt anyone."
But the villagers avoided it after sunset.
They said strange noises echoed from inside. They said people saw shadows moving behind cracked windows. They said a woman had died there years ago.
Sulabh believed none of it.
At 11:47 PM, under a sky without stars, he stood before the structure. The board above the entrance hung crooked, barely readable. The paint had peeled away, revealing dark stains underneath.
The iron gate was half open.
He stepped inside.
The air instantly grew colder.
Water dripped somewhere in the darkness. The echo was too loud for such a small place. His flashlight flickered, then steadied.
Three broken sinks lined the wall. The mirrors above them were cracked, each fracture splitting his reflection into jagged pieces.
"See?" he muttered to himself. "Nothing."
Then he heard it.
A stall door creaked.
Slowly.
Sulabh froze.
He told himself it was wind. The building had holes everywhere; wind could move anything.
But there was no wind.
The air was still.
His flashlight beam moved toward the stalls. The last door was slightly open. Darkness pooled inside like ink.
"Silly," he whispered, stepping closer.
The floor was wet. Not water.
It was sticky.
His shoe made a faint peeling sound as he lifted his foot.
The smell grew stronger.
He reached for the stall door.
Before he could touch it, the door slammed shut.
The bang echoed violently, making him jump back.
His heart raced now.
"Someone's here?" he called out.
Silence.
Then—
Knock.
From inside the stall.
Three slow knocks.
Sulabh's mouth went dry.
"This isn't funny!" he shouted, trying to sound braver than he felt.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Again.
The flashlight flickered violently now. The bulb buzzed.
He stepped backward.
And that's when he noticed something in the mirror.
His reflection wasn't alone.
Behind him, standing just inches away, was a woman.
Her skin was pale grey. Her hair hung wet around her face. Her eyes were black — completely black.
Sulabh spun around.
No one.
He looked back at the mirror.
She was still there.
Smiling.
Blood trickled from her mouth.
His breathing became shallow. His hands shook.
"You're not real," he whispered.
The mirror cracked louder.
The woman inside it tilted her head unnaturally to the side. Her neck bent too far. Bones snapped with a sickening sound.
And then—
Her hand pushed through the mirror.
Glass shattered outward.
Sulabh screamed and fell backward. The flashlight rolled across the floor, spinning wildly.
The hand was long. Thin. Fingers too sharp.
It grabbed the edge of the sink and pulled.
Her body slid out of the mirror like liquid shadow.
The stall door behind him slowly opened.
Inside the stall, he saw something that made his stomach twist.
Scratches.
Hundreds of scratches carved into the wall.
And written in dried brown letters:
"DON'T LOOK AT HER."
Sulabh scrambled to his feet and ran toward the exit.
The gate was closed.
He was sure he had left it open.
He pulled at it desperately.
Locked.
Behind him, footsteps echoed on the wet floor.
Slow.
Dragging.
He didn't want to turn around.
But he did.
She stood at the center of the restroom now.
Her head tilted sideways. Her arms hung loose. Her feet didn't touch the ground.
She floated.
The sinks began dripping faster.
Drop.
Drop.
Drop.
But the sound changed.
It wasn't water anymore.
It was thicker.
Darker.
Blood poured from the taps.
The room filled with the metallic scent.
Sulabh screamed and kicked the gate, but it wouldn't move.
The woman moved closer without walking.
Her body glitched, flickering like a broken video.
Suddenly she disappeared.
The silence became worse.
Sulabh looked around wildly.
"Where are you?!" he cried.
Something cold touched his shoulder.
He froze.
A whisper slid into his ear.
"You looked."
His body refused to move.
Her fingers wrapped around his neck.
They were freezing.
He felt himself lifted off the ground.
His feet kicked uselessly in the air.
Her face moved close to his.
Up close, her skin wasn't just pale.
It was peeling.
Like something had been wearing her.
"You looked," she repeated softly.
The stall behind her slammed shut violently.
The scratches on the wall began bleeding fresh red.
Sulabh felt pressure in his chest.
He couldn't breathe.
His vision darkened at the edges.
He remembered the warning.
DON'T LOOK AT HER.
He shut his eyes tightly.
The grip tightened.
Pain shot through his neck.
His lungs burned.
And then—
Everything stopped.
Silence.
He fell to the ground.
Hard.
He gasped, sucking in air.
The restroom was empty.
The sinks were dry.
No blood.
No woman.
The gate was open.
Sunlight streamed faintly through broken windows.
Morning.
Sulabh staggered outside.
Had it been a nightmare?
He touched his neck.
Finger-shaped bruises circled it.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
A message from his friend:
"Bro, you left early? We came at 5 AM. The place was empty."
Sulabh stared at the building behind him.
For a brief second—
In the cracked window—
He saw her again.
Watching.
Smiling.
He turned away and walked quickly down the road.
He never spoke about that night.
But something had changed.
He avoided mirrors.
Because sometimes—
When he glanced too quickly—
He didn't see himself.
He saw her.
Standing closer each time.
Waiting.
Three days later, strange things began happening.
The mirror in his bedroom cracked.
Three scratches appeared on his wall.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
From inside his cupboard.
Sulabh didn't open it.
He remembered.
DON'T LOOK.
But curiosity is a dangerous thing.
On the fourth night, the knocking became louder.
His cupboard door slowly creaked open by itself.
Darkness pooled inside.
And from the darkness—
A pale hand emerged.
Sulabh closed his eyes tightly.
"I won't look," he whispered.
Silence.
Then a soft laugh.
Right in front of him.
He felt her breath on his face.
Cold.
Rotten.
"You already did."
His eyes opened by reflex.
And she was there.
Closer than ever.
Her black eyes filled his vision.
The lights went out.
In the morning, Sulabh's room was empty.
The door was locked from inside.
The windows closed.
But Sulabh was gone.
Only three words were carved into the cupboard door.
In deep scratches.
"NOW YOU SEE."
Years later, the abandoned restroom still stands.
People say if you enter at night and look into the cracked mirror—
You won't see yourself.
You'll see her.
And once you look—
She follows you home.
Waiting.
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