The stillness in the house had shifted.
It wasn't the usual late-night quiet. It was heavier now, like the walls were holding their breath. Ayaan sat near the window, but he wasn't really looking outside anymore. The backyard, usually dull and lifeless, felt like it was watching him.
The feather was still there, lying exactly where he left it on the table. He hadn't dared touch it again. Not because he thought something would happen—but because something already had.
That's when the knocking started.
Soft. Deliberate.
Three slow knocks.
Not from the front door.
From somewhere inside.
Ayaan froze, eyes scanning the empty hallway. The air felt colder now. He stood, his chair scraping softly against the floor, and waited. No movement. Just silence.
Then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
This time, to his left. Near the wall.
He stepped toward the sound. The wall was cool beneath his palm. Nothing. No echo, no vibration. Just cold.
And then came the sound again—
Not a knock.
But something softer. Closer.
Right behind him.
He turned sharply. The hallway stretched ahead, quiet and still.
Phone in hand, he turned on the flashlight and started down the hall. The beam lit up the wood floors, the edges of picture frames, the corners of rooms he'd walked through a thousand times. But now, every shadow felt unfamiliar.
Halfway down the hall, the light from his phone flickered. A flash. Darkness. Another flash. Then it went out completely.
He exhaled through clenched teeth, steadying himself. The dark was thick, like it had weight to it. And in that blackness, something whispered.
Not a word.
Not a voice.
Just breathing.
Slow. Right behind him.
He didn't turn immediately. He couldn't. His legs locked up for a moment.
When he finally did, there was nothing there.
He stood alone in the dark, his own breath shallow and uneven.
The hallway light above him flickered back on—just for a second.
But in that second, he saw it.
Someone at the far end of the hallway.
Not facing him. Still. Hair damp, strands clinging to their neck. Pale feet planted on the wooden floor.
Then the light blinked out again.
And when it came back… they were gone.
Ayaan rushed back to the living room. The feather had disappeared.
And scratched into the wall, in long uneven letters, were two chilling words:
You looked.