Midnight arrived without sound.
The village had already fallen silent, but Manoj's old garden seemed to hold a different kind of quiet. It was the kind that pressed against your ears. The kind that made you aware of your own breathing.
A thin fog hovered low over the ground, curling around broken stone benches and the twisted roots of ancient trees. The iron gate at the entrance hung crooked, its hinges rusted and dark with time.
Manoj stood in front of it, gripping a flashlight tighter than he wanted to admit.
"You're sure about this?" Sayantika whispered.
Her voice was steady, but her fingers were laced together too tightly.
Anirban checked his phone. "12:03 a.m. If we're doing this, let's just go in."
Sibom gave a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Relax. It's just an old garden. Not a haunted forest."
Dustu, the youngest among them, kicked a small stone forward. "Then why does it feel like something's watching us?"
No one answered that.
They were there because of Manoj.
Three nights ago, Manoj had received a call from an unknown number. A distorted voice had whispered only one sentence:
*"It's still there. In the garden."*
Then the line had gone dead.
The garden had once belonged to Manoj's grandfather. Years ago, after a strange accident that no one in the family talked about, it had been locked and abandoned. Manoj had avoided it his entire life.
Until now.
"I just want to prove there's nothing," Manoj said quietly. "After tonight, we can forget it."
He pushed the gate.
It opened with a long metallic groan that sliced through the silence.
The five of them stepped inside.
The air changed instantly.
Colder.
Heavier.
Sayantika rubbed her arms. "Did the temperature just drop?"
Sibom forced a laugh. "You're imagining it."
But even he turned on his flashlight.
The beams cut through the fog, revealing cracked pathways, overgrown bushes, and trees that leaned inward as if guarding something.
A sudden rustle came from the left.
Dustu jumped. "What was that?"
Anirban swung his light toward the bushes. The leaves were still.
"Probably a cat," he muttered.
But his voice lacked confidence.
They walked deeper into the garden. Each step felt louder than it should have. Gravel crunched under their shoes like distant bones snapping.
Manoj stopped near the center, where a dried fountain stood. Its marble edges were stained dark, almost black in the dim light.
"This is where it happened," he said softly.
Sayantika looked at him. "The accident?"
Manoj nodded. "Grandfather fell into the fountain. They said he slipped."
"And you don't believe that?" Sibom asked.
Before Manoj could answer, a sharp wind tore through the garden.
The trees shuddered violently.
Branches scraped against one another, producing a sound disturbingly close to whispering.
Dustu grabbed Anirban's arm. "Did you hear that?"
They all did.
It wasn't just the wind.
It sounded like faint voices.
Broken words.
Unclear.
As if something was trying to speak from far away.
Sayantika's breath grew shallow. "This isn't normal."
Anirban took a step back. "Okay. We've seen enough. Let's go."
But Manoj didn't move.
His flashlight flickered once.
Twice.
Then went out.
"Manoj?" Sayantika's voice trembled.
"I—I didn't touch it."
Sibom quickly moved closer, shining his light around. "Stay together."
Another sound.
This time from behind them.
Footsteps.
Soft.
Slow.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Crunch.
All five turned at once.
Nothing.
Only fog.
But the footsteps had stopped exactly when they turned.
Dustu swallowed hard. "Someone's here."
"No," Anirban whispered. "Something."
The wind died suddenly.
Complete silence returned.
Too complete.
Even the insects had stopped.
Sayantika's eyes widened. "Why is it so quiet?"
Then it happened.
A shadow moved across the ground.
Not cast by any of their flashlights.
It slid past them like liquid darkness.
Sibom froze. "Tell me you saw that."
No one replied.
Because they had.
The shadow reached the fountain.
And stopped.
Manoj felt something cold brush against his ankle.
He gasped and stumbled back.
"What?" Anirban demanded.
"There was—something—"
Before he could finish, the fountain made a low cracking sound.
The marble surface trembled.
A deep, hollow thud echoed from inside it.
Dustu's voice broke. "There's something inside."
Sayantika shook her head. "No. That's impossible. It's dry."
The thud came again.
Louder.
Closer.
As if something heavy was shifting beneath the stone.
Sibom stepped forward despite the fear in his eyes. "Move back."
He aimed his flashlight into the fountain.
At first, there was nothing but darkness.
Then—
A shape.
Something pale.
Unnaturally pale.
Curled at the bottom.
Anirban leaned in slightly.
The beam steadied.
It wasn't stone.
It wasn't debris.
It looked like—
A hand.
Manoj's heart slammed against his ribs. "That's not real."
The fingers twitched.
Just once.
Then went still.
Dustu screamed and stumbled backward, falling onto the gravel.
Sayantika covered her mouth, tears forming in her eyes.
"No," she whispered. "No, no, no…"
The hand slowly began to rise.
Not climbing.
Not pushing.
Just lifting.
As if pulled upward by invisible strings.
The surface of the fountain cracked open with a violent snap.
The ground beneath them vibrated.
The trees bent inward, their branches reaching toward the center.
The whispers returned.
Clearer now.
Five voices.
Calling their names.
"Manoj…"
"Sayantika…"
"Anirban…"
"Sibom…"
"Dustu…"
Each name stretched unnaturally, dragged through the air like smoke.
Sibom grabbed Manoj's shoulder. "We need to run. Now."
But Manoj couldn't move.
Because the hand wasn't alone anymore.
Another shape was emerging from the darkness.
Not fully visible.
Not fully formed.
Just enough to see empty eye sockets staring directly at him.
The fog thickened instantly, swallowing the edges of the garden.
The gate slammed shut behind them with a deafening crash.
And the hand pointed.
Not at the sky.
Not at the ground.
At Manoj.
The whispers merged into one chilling sentence:
*"You came back."*
The flashlight beams flickered wildly.
Then—
Every light went out at once.
The garden plunged into complete darkness.
And something began to climb out of the fountain.