Aarav couldn't trust his own mind.
Every step felt uncertain.
Every thought felt borrowed.
Even his breathing—
Didn't feel like his.
He and Meera walked in silence.
But this time—
It wasn't calm.
It was distance.
Meera kept glancing at him.
Not obviously.
But enough.
Enough for Aarav to notice.
"You don't trust me anymore," he said quietly.
She didn't deny it.
"…I'm being careful."
Aarav let out a dry laugh.
"Careful?"
A pause.
"Or scared?"
Meera stopped walking.
"…Both."
Silence.
Aarav looked away.
"…I'm still me."
Meera's voice softened slightly.
"…I hope so."
That hurt more than anything else.
They reached Aarav's house.
The place that once felt safe—
Now felt like a trap.
"You shouldn't go in alone," Meera said.
Aarav shook his head.
"I have to."
"…Why?"
"Because if it's already taken something…"
A pause.
"…I need to know what."
He stepped toward the door.
Hand trembling slightly.
Then pushed it open.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
"Mom?" Aarav called out.
No response.
Aarav stepped inside slowly.
The air felt cold.
Heavy.
Meera followed behind him.
Silent.
Observing.
The living room—
Empty.
The kitchen—
Still.
"…Mom?" Aarav called again.
A sound came from upstairs.
A soft thud.
Aarav's chest tightened.
"…She's there."
He moved toward the stairs.
Meera grabbed his wrist.
"Wait."
"…What?"
Her grip tightened.
"…Listen first."
They stood still.
And then—
A voice.
"…Aarav?"
His mother's voice.
Soft.
Normal.
Aarav's eyes widened.
"…Mom—"
Meera pulled him back sharply.
"Don't answer."
His heart slammed.
"…Why?!"
Meera's voice dropped.
"…What time is it?"
Aarav froze.
Slowly—
He checked his phone.
12:03 AM.
His blood ran cold.
"…No…"
The house lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
Everything went still.
The world shifted.
Cold blue tones.
Deep shadows.
Unnatural silence.
They were inside it again.
The Midnight World.
The voice came again.
"Aarav…"
From upstairs.
"Come here…"
Aarav's body moved—
Instinctively.
But Meera held him in place.
"That's not her," she said firmly.
"…It sounds exactly like her."
"That's the point."
The footsteps began.
Slow.
Descending the stairs.
Aarav couldn't breathe.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Then—
She appeared.
His mother.
Standing at the top of the stairs.
Her face—
Perfect.
Her posture—
Normal.
Her eyes—
Wrong.
Completely empty.
"…Why didn't you answer me?" she asked softly.
Aarav's chest tightened.
"…Mom?"
Meera stepped in front of him.
"Don't talk to it."
The thing smiled.
"…It's okay," it said gently.
"You can come to me."
Its voice layered.
Two voices again.
One real.
One not.
Aarav's vision blurred.
Memories flooded his mind.
His childhood.
His mother laughing.
Calling his name.
"…Aarav…"
The voice overlapped.
"…come here…"
His body leaned forward.
Just slightly.
"Aarav!" Meera snapped.
Her voice cut through.
"Look at her eyes!"
Aarav forced himself to focus.
Her face—
Was perfect.
But her eyes—
Didn't recognize him.
Didn't feel anything.
"…That's not her," he whispered.
The thing's smile faded.
"…You're learning," it said.
Then—
It stepped forward.
Too fast.
In an instant—
It was in front of them.
Meera reacted immediately.
Pulling Aarav back.
"RUN."
They turned—
And ran.
Through the house.
Past the hallway.
Toward the door.
Behind them—
Footsteps.
Not normal.
Too many.
Too fast.
Aarav glanced back—
And froze.
There wasn't just one.
The shadows—
Were moving too.
Peeling off walls.
Taking shape.
"…They're inside the house," he said in horror.
"Keep moving!" Meera shouted.
They burst out the front door—
And the world snapped back.
Noise returned.
Lights normal.
People outside.
Aarav collapsed forward.
Breathing heavily.
"…That wasn't her…"
His voice broke.
"…was it?"
Meera didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Aarav looked back at the house.
The windows.
The door.
Everything normal.
But he knew.
She wasn't inside anymore.
His phone buzzed.
Slowly—
He picked it up.
A new message.
"Rule 7: If someone you love feels wrong…"
The screen flickered.
Then—
"…it's already too late."
Aarav's hands shook.
Tears blurred his vision.
"…No…"
Meera looked at him.
Her expression heavy.
"…I'm sorry."
Aarav laughed.
Broken.
Empty.
"…That's not her."
A pause.
"…Right?"
Meera didn't reply.
Because now—
Even she wasn't sure.
🔥 END OF CHAPTER 8