"Wait… no. No, no, no…
"
Raghav's voice was low — but disturbed.
Everyone looked at him.
He was staring at the photograph on the wall.
Sourav's mother.
Garlanded.
Silent.
For a second, the room felt exactly like that corridor from the night before.
Heavy.
Unnatural.
Raghav stepped closer to the photo.
A strange pressure built inside his chest.
"I've been here before,
" he murmured unconsciously.
"What?" Sourav asked.
Raghav shook his head.
"Nothing… I just… I feel like I've seen this moment.
"
Sourav forced a smile.
"It's her death anniversary.
"
Raghav kept staring at the picture.
"When we were kids… near that old construction site… something happened.
"
Sourav froze slightly.
"You remember?" Raghav continued slowly.
"There were iron rods everywhere. It was
raining. Someone slipped.
"
The air in the room shifted.
Sourav didn't reply.
But his silence said enough.
1Dinner happened.
Conversations happened.
But underneath it all, something was wrong.
At one point, Baba's eyes locked onto Raghav.
Not warmly.
But knowingly.
As if he recognized something that shouldn't be there.
3:00 AM.
Raghav woke up suddenly.
No dream.
No sound.
Just awareness.
The hallway was dim.
The mirror stood there.
Waiting.
He walked toward it.
His reflection stared back.
But his reflection looked… tired.
Guilty.
The light flickered once.
And behind his reflection—
A child appeared.
Six years old.
Pale.
With a thin dark mark across the neck.
The same child Sourav saw in Chapter 4.
"Papa…
"
Raghav stepped back instantly.
"I'm not your father.
"
The child tilted his head.
"You left me.
"
A sharp memory pierced through him.
Rain.
Construction site.
Slippery surface.
A smaller figure running ahead.
A scream.
And Raghav—hesitating.
Turning away.
12Running.
The mirror suddenly showed something else.
Him.
Standing on the terrace.
Wind pushing his shirt.
Edge close behind him.
Like it had already happened.
Like it was replaying.
"Did you forget?" the child whispered again.
The mirror went dark for half a second.
When it cleared—
The terrace door was slightly open in real life.
Raghav's breathing became uneven.
He didn't remember unlocking it.
But he walked toward it anyway.
Almost like something was guiding him.
The terrace was silent.
Varanasi at night looked peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Below, the under-construction building stood still.
Iron rods pointing upward from freshly poured concrete.
Some of them had been heated earlier in the day for bending and fitting.
Even now, faint warmth still radiated from them in the night air.
Raghav stepped closer to the edge.
His heartbeat was loud in his ears.
Behind him—
Soft footsteps.
But when he turned—
No one.
Then the whisper came again.
Right beside him.
Calm.
Controlled.
"You promised you wouldn't leave.
"
His foot slipped slightly.
He grabbed the railing.
For one second—
He had control.
13Then—
A sudden force.
Not visible.
Not dramatic.
Just enough.
His balance broke.
He fell forward.
No long scream.
Just a sharp gasp cut short by gravity.
Morning.
Crowd gathered.
Police tape.
Murmurs.
Sourav pushed through the people.
He saw the under-construction site.
And then—
He saw Raghav.
His body had fallen directly onto the vertical iron rods.
They had pierced through him.
The rods were still faintly warm from the previous day's heating.
Heat meeting flesh.
The impact had forced the rods cleanly through his abdomen and chest.
It wasn't cinematic.
It was brutal.
Real.
Steam-like vapour rose slightly in the cool morning air where metal met blood-warmed
fabric.
Sourav's legs went weak.
His ears rang.
Someone was saying "Accident…
"
Someone else whispered "Suicide…
"
But Sourav knew.
This was neither.
As authorities carefully lowered the body—
Sourav noticed something chilling.
On Raghav's chest, scratched into his shirt fabric—
As if pressed there before the fall—
"HOW WAS THE SURPRISE?"
Sourav's mind flashed back.
Rain.
Construction site.
A smaller child.
A slip.
14A fall between iron rods.
And two boys—
who didn't go back in time.
His breathing became unstable.
The same whisper from the corridor.
The same from the mirror.
Now beside his ear again.
"This is not new.
"
Sourav slowly looked up toward the terrace.
For a split second—
He saw the child standing there.
Not angry.
Not smiling.
Just watching.
Then gone.
Sourav realized something terrifying.
The loop didn't start last night.
It started years ago.
And it had just repeated itself.
TO BE CONTINUED