After barely escaping The House With No Exit, Ahaan thought he might get a break.
He was wrong.
For two days, nothing happened. The book stayed closed. The candle stayed dark. Ahaan tried to go back to normal life — school, home, pretending he was okay.
But something inside him had changed.
He kept hearing whispers in empty rooms. His reflection moved half a second too slow. And at night, the walls in his house… cracked softly.
As if they were breathing.
It all started on a Thursday afternoon.
Ahaan was alone in his room, reading the book again — flipping through the blank pages, waiting for the next legend to appear.
But something felt off.
The air was thick. The ceiling fan spun slower than usual.
And then — tap. tap. tap.
He froze.
The sound was coming from inside his bedroom wall.
Right behind his bookshelf.
"Probably just a rat," he whispered.
But the taps became knocks.
Three soft knocks.
Then a fourth one… from the other side of the room.
He looked around. "Nope. Nope. Nope—"
BANG.
A crack formed across the wall. A thin line. Almost invisible.
Ahaan stepped closer.
Suddenly, the book flipped open by itself.
NEW CASE:
"THE SHADOW IN THE WALL"
It waits. It watches. It whispers.
Don't answer it.
Don't feed it.
Don't follow it.
He stared at the wall again.
Another tap.
This time, louder.
Then a voice came through. A soft, whispery voice that sounded almost like a child:
"Ahaan… I'm stuck. Please help me…"
His blood turned cold.
He backed away from the wall.
"Ahaan… I know you can hear me."
"Nope," he whispered, grabbing his backpack and the book. "Not today."
He ran out of his room and into the hallway.
But something was wrong.
The hallway seemed… longer than before.
He walked forward, but the lights flickered.
Every time they blinked off and on, the walls changed color — from cream to dark gray to almost black.
Then he saw it.
A long, thin shadow on the wall ahead.
But there was nothing casting it.
He froze. "This isn't my house anymore, is it?"
No answer.
He turned around to go back to his room — but it was gone.
Just more hallway.
The lights flickered again.
Now the shadow had moved. It was closer.
And it was whispering.
"Come inside the wall, Ahaan. It's warm here. No one can hurt you in here…"
His hands trembled.
The book glowed faintly.
One line wrote itself:
"If the shadow touches you, it replaces you."
Replaces?
He didn't wait to find out.
He ran.
The hallway twisted beneath his feet.
The doors melted off their frames. The walls stretched, groaning like they were alive.
He tried to open the front door — but it was gone.
Instead, a mirror was there.
His reflection looked exhausted. Pale. Hollow-eyed.
He reached toward it — and the reflection reached through the glass, grabbing his arm.
He screamed and yanked free.
The candle dropped out of his bag and rolled toward the wall.
A small crack opened — and the shadow slipped halfway through it like smoke.
The candle sparked to life on its own, floating in the air.
It cast light directly on the shadow's face.
Ahaan gasped.
It was… his face.
Almost.
But twisted.
Smiling wide.
Eyes empty.
Skin gray and peeling.
"You've seen too much, Ahaan," it whispered.
"You keep opening doors that should stay shut. Now it's my turn."
The book began flipping wildly as Ahaan backed away.
Words flashed across the pages:
"Name it."
"Trap it."
"Seal it."
He screamed, "What's your name?!"
The shadow hissed.
"You know it already," it said. "You say it every day."
Ahaan paused.
"No… I'm not saying my name. You're not me!"
But the shadow laughed. "You looked into too many mirrors. Too many cursed places. Some part of you always stays behind."
The candle flickered again.
The shadow leapt from the wall — straight toward him.
Ahaan held the candle between them, shouting, "YOU'RE NOT ME!"
The flame burst white-hot.
The shadow screamed — not like a person, but like a thousand broken voices all at once.
Then the wall cracked open wide and swallowed the shadow whole.
Just like that… it was gone.
Ahaan dropped to his knees, breathing hard.
His bedroom door reappeared.
The hallway was normal again.
And the book wrote:
"Case Closed."
"Warning: Wall still unstable."
Later that night, as he lay in bed, Ahaan stared at the spot behind his bookshelf.
The crack was still there.
Very thin.
But still there.
He leaned in and whispered:
"I'm still me."
No reply.
But just before he fell asleep, he thought he heard a whisper again.
Faint.
Almost like a promise.
"Not for long"
Then....