By morning, none of them spoke much.
Fear made language useless.
They met near the library where old storage rooms hid behind rusted cabinets. Meera carried a stolen key ring. Her hands shook as she unlocked the records door.
The smell inside was ancient — paper, metal, abandonment.
Dust floated in the light like dying stars.
Riya coughed.
"Why keep files here?"
"So people forget them," Meera replied quietly.
They searched in silence, flipping pages, opening folders, brushing away spider webs.
Then Meera froze.
"I found something."
She pulled a thin file free.
ISHIKA RAO
Room: 317B
Date: Ten years ago.
Anaya leaned closer.
The report listed complaints.
Locked in corridor as prank.
Ignored cries for help.
Security couldn't find end of hallway.
The last line made Anaya's breath catch.
The hallway did not return the girl.
Sana whispered,
"It kept her."
They read further.
Teachers dismissed it as hysteria.
Police closed the case quietly.
Hostel sealed soon after.
Riya rubbed her arms.
"So she became that thing in the wall."
"No," Anaya said slowly.
"She became the corridor."
The air suddenly shifted.
Metal scraped somewhere above them.
The lights flickered.
Meera whispered,
"Do you hear that?"
They ran back upstairs.
The third floor waited darker than usual.
At the far end, the black door stood differently.
The chains were loose.
Moving.
Clinking softly by themselves.
Then—
Click.
317B opened.