Bhairava froze, his breath caught in his throat. The silence pressed against him. And Bhairava's nose caught the metallic scent. His eyes widened in shock. "Is that… blood?" he thought, his chest tightening.
Fear gripped him. He stepped back slowly, his legs trembling, trying to escape even though he knew there was no way out. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst.
Then, without warning, the figure hurled the object. It rolled across the ground toward him. Bhairava's breath caught as he saw it clearly. His body froze, his lungs refusing to draw air.
It was his own head. Chopped clean from the body.
Bhairava staggered backward, his breath shallow, his chest heaving. His mind screamed, but no sound left his lips. He lifted his gaze slowly, terrified of what he might see.
The figure was gone.
His eyes darted around, searching the endless hall of mirrors. "Where did it go?" he whispered, his voice shaking.
He turned slightly and there it was. The dark figure stood right in front of him now, closer than ever. Its face was twisted, inhuman, burned and scarred. The marks glowed faintly, shining like embers.
It screamed, a sound that tore through the silence. Sparks of fire burst from its mouth, scattering into the air.
Bhairava's heart stopped for a moment. He stumbled backward in terror, his steps long and clumsy. His foot caught the edge of a mirror behind him, and he tripped. With a cry, he fell straight into the mirror's surface.
Bhairava blinked, and suddenly he was sitting at his desk in college. The familiar classroom surrounded him, yet something felt wrong. At the front, a new female professor stood before the blackboard, her hand moving steadily as she wrote.
Bhairava looked around, his heart uneasy. "Am I… in college?" he thought, confusion clouding his mind.
Mano was in his usual spot, head bent over his notebook. But something about him felt strange. He didn't glance at Bhairava, didn't smile, didn't even acknowledge his presence. He was completely focused, writing with unusual sincerity. In fact, everyone in the class was the same silent, serious, their pens scratching against paper.
The room was unnaturally quiet. No whispers, no laughter, no shifting chairs. Only the sound of chalk against the board and pens against paper. A chill sensation crept through Bhairava's body. This didn't feel like his classroom at all.
Then, faintly, he heard a whisper. "…yo… t… lo…ng…re…"
The words were broken, unclear. Bhairava leaned forward, straining to listen. The sound was coming from Mano.
He focused harder, his pulse quickening. The whisper grew clearer. Mano's lips moved slowly, repeating the words to himself.
"You are not belonged here."
Mano started scribbling in his notebook as he whispered again. "You are not belonged here."
Bhairava's eyes widened. He stared at Mano, unsettled. Then, to his horror, Mano lifted his head, scribbled faster, and repeated in a low voice, "You are not belonged here."
It wasn't just Mano. One by one, every student in the classroom began whispering the same words. Their pens scratched furiously across their notebooks, their voices overlapping in a chilling chorus. Even the professor, her hand moving across the blackboard, was whispering the same phrase.
The room no longer felt like a classroom. It felt possessed.
Bhairava stood up suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor. But as soon as he rose, every student in the room also stood, their movements stiff, mechanical, as though controlled by something unseen.
Bhairava froze. His heart pounded as all eyes turned toward him. The whispers grew louder, echoing in unison. "You are not belonged here."
The students standing closest to him did not move their bodies, but their heads twisted unnaturally, turning all the way backward until their faces stared directly at him.
Bhairava's breath caught. His legs trembled.
Then, without warning, Mano grabbed his pen, his eyes wild. He rushed toward Bhairava, his voice breaking into a scream. "Get out!"
The pen gleamed in his hand as he lunged forward, trying to stab.
The pen slashed toward him, but Bhairava dodged, his eyes wide in shock. Before he could recover, other students rushed at him, their faces blank, their movements stiff and unnatural. They too tried to stab him with pens, their whispers echoing in unison.
Bhairava grabbed whatever he could books, chairs, anything within reach and hurled them to block the attacks. He fought back desperately, dodging blows, his breath ragged. Then Shreya lunged at him, her pen aimed straight for his chest. He twisted away just in time, the pen slicing through empty air.
Without thinking, Bhairava bolted from the classroom. His footsteps echoed down the corridor as he ran, confusion and terror clouding his mind. "What is happening? Why are they trying to kill me?"
Behind him, the sound of rushing footsteps grew louder. The students were chasing him, their voices rising in a chilling chorus.
"You are not belonged here… You are not belonged here…"
Bhairava's heart pounded as he sprinted through the college halls, dodging corners, searching for escape. Somehow, he managed to slip into a shadowed alcove, pressing himself against the wall. His chest heaved as he held his breath, listening.
The footsteps thundered past. The whispers faded. For a moment, silence returned.
Bhairava stepped out cautiously, his body trembling, and ran in the opposite direction down the corridor.
Then he stopped.
In the distance, he saw Aarya walking slowly from the side. Relief flickered for a moment until he looked closer.
Her movements were strange, stiff, unnatural. Her eyes were blank, her face expressionless. In her hand, she held a knife, its blade glinting under the corridor lights.
Bhairava's breath quickened. He stepped back slowly, his heart pounding. Aarya's gaze locked onto him, and she turned fully in his direction. Her blank stare made his stomach twist.
"Shit…" Bhairava thought, panic rising in his chest.
He spun around and started to run. Behind him, Aarya's footsteps echoed sharply as she chased him down the corridor. His legs pumped faster, his breath ragged, until finally he managed to break away. He darted around corners, his chest burning, until he was sure she was no longer behind him.
Bhairava leaned against the wall, gasping for air. His lungs ached, his body trembling. He exhaled heavily, relief washing over him for a brief moment.
But that relief didn't last.
A strange sensation crept over him, the feeling that someone else was there. The corridor seemed heavier, the silence pressing against his ears.
Slowly, he turned his head to the side.
His eyes widened.
In the distance, standing in the corridor, was himself. Another Bhairava.
The figure stood still, its posture identical, its eyes fixed on him.
Bhairava's heart skipped a beat. His mind screamed in confusion. "That's… me."
But this Bhairava was different. His face twisted into a creepy, evil smile, a grin that didn't belong to him. The sight made Bhairava's stomach churn. His eyes widened, his mind blank. He didn't know what to do.
The other Bhairava raised his hand slowly, curling his fingers in a gesture that beckoned him closer. Then, without warning, it turned and began to run, its laughter echoing through the corridor sharp, mocking, unnatural.
Bhairava's heart pounded. He shouted, his voice breaking, "Hey… stop!"
Without thinking, he chased after it. Fear clawed at him, but the need to understand was stronger. If he could catch it, if he could face it, maybe he would finally learn what was happening. Even a small piece of information would be enough.
The other Bhairava ran ahead, its creepy laugh bouncing off the walls. Bhairava chased it through the corridor, his footsteps loud, his breath ragged. Finally, the figure darted into a room.
Bhairava followed, pushing the door open. He stepped inside.
It was the storeroom. Dusty shelves lined the walls, filled with unused and broken items. The air smelled of rust and damp wood.
He searched frantically, eyes darting through the shadows. Then he saw it.
In the corner stood a mirror.
The moment his gaze fell on it, his chest tightened. He recognized it instantly. This was no ordinary mirror. It was one of those mirrors, the kind from the mirror realm he had been trapped in before. The design was different, but the sensation was the same, the chill crawling across his skin, the heavy air pressing against him.
He stepped closer, his breath uneven. "What is it doing here?" he thought, his mind racing.
Standing in front of the mirror, he saw his own reflection. But then, in the glass, something else appeared. Behind him, another figure was forming.
Bhairava's eyes widened. It was himself, the other Bhairava, the one with the evil, twisted smile.
He spun around, and there it was, standing in the room, a knife gleaming in its hand.
Fear surged through him. His voice trembled as he asked, "Who are you? What is happening here?"
The evil Bhairava only grinned wider, his smile stretching unnaturally, his eyes burning with madness. He didn't answer. He only stared, as if enjoying Bhairava's fear.
Bhairava's body tensed. His eyes scanned the room, ready to fight if he had to.
Then a voice echoed, sharp and familiar. "Looks like the reality of the dream is hitting you very hard."
Bhairava froze. He knew that voice.
He turned, scanning the storeroom. On top of a cupboard, a figure began to appear. Slowly, the shape of a woman formed, sitting casually as though she had been waiting for him.
Bhairava's breath caught. His lips moved in a whisper. "Shreya…?"
The figure smiled faintly, her eyes cold. She tilted her head and said, "If I were you, I wouldn't do that."
Bhairava frowned, his chest tightening. "So it is you again. Is this all your doing?"
Shreya laughed softly, the sound echoing unnaturally in the storeroom. "My doing? No… I would never waste my time on something this silly."
Her words confused him, twisting his thoughts. She leaned forward slightly, her eyes cold. "This is all because of you. You did this to yourself."
Bhairava's breath caught. His mind spun in circles. He frowned deeper, his voice trembling. "Then what should I do now?"
Shreya calmly adjusted her hair, her movements slow and deliberate. "If I were you, I'd run for my life instead of standing here arguing."
Before Bhairava could respond, the evil version of himself lifted the knife. Blood dripped from the blade, thick and red, and the creature licked it with a twisted grin.
Bhairava's eyes widened. His body stiffened as he searched desperately for a way to escape.
Then, something wet hit his shoulder. A drop. Cold and sticky.
Shaken, he looked up. His breath froze.
Another Bhairava was hanging upside down from the ceiling, his body lifeless, blood dripping steadily onto Bhairava's shoulder.
His stomach churned. His legs trembled.
A crazy laugh echoed through the room. Bhairava turned back, and the evil version of himself was changing, its body twisting, its face melting into the dark figure that had chased him before.
The figure screamed and rushed toward him, its movements fast and violent.
Bhairava's heart stopped. Fear consumed him. With no other choice, clinging to the hope of escape, he turned and leapt straight into the mirror standing behind him.
Then Bhairava jolted awake.
His eyes opened to his room, but the nightmare wasn't gone. The same dark figure stood before him. He tried to move, but his body wouldn't respond. Panic rose, until realization struck: he was trapped in sleep paralysis.
He remembered what he had read: during dreams, the brain locks the body's movement to stop us from acting out what we see. But if we wake suddenly, the brain can still think we're dreaming. That's when the body refuses to move, and the mind shows us dream images as if they're real.
Bhairava slowly began to understand what was happening, yet the figure before him was terrifying, its body completely black, its eyes glowing white. He had seen many strange things in his dreams, but now he couldn't tell if this was still a dream or something real. The confusion only made his fear grow stronger.
The creature walked slowly toward him as he lay frozen, then suddenly rushed forward with unnatural speed. It flew past him, and in that instant, everything around Bhairava turned completely dark. Nothing was visible, only emptiness.
Far away, a faint white light appeared, glowing softly in the distance. As Bhairava stared at it, a strange voice echoed through the darkness: "Let's begin our journey."
The moment the words faded, the surroundings shifted back. Bhairava saw his room again, familiar and real, yet his body still refused to move. He realized he was trapped in sleep paralysis, his mind awake but his body locked. Slowly, he calmed himself, his breathing steadying, and the terrifying vision began to fade.
But the fear lingered. His sleep was broken, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't return to rest.