The rain had been falling since morning.
Not the soft gentle kind, that made everything smell fresh and green, but the heavy kind that turned the sky grey and the roads into muddy rivers. The windsheild wipers of the car moved back and forth again and again, struggling to clear the water.
Inside the car, no one spoke for a while.
Sixteen-year-old Ayaan Malik stared out of the window at the unfamiliar road ahead. Tall trees stood on both sides, their branches twisting together above the road like dark fingers. Every now and then lightning flashed somewhere far away, lighting up the forest for a breif moment.
Beside him, his youngere sister Sara sat quietly hugging her backpack.
"Are we there yet?" She asked softly.
From the front seat, their father Mr. Malik nodded. "Just a few more minutes."
Their mother turned around from the passenger seat and smiled. "You'll live the new house. It's huge."
Sara didn't look convinced.
Ayaan had heard that sentence many times already during the past week.
Huge house.
Big rooms.
Beautiful old architecture.
But none of that explained the one thing that had been bothering him ever since his father showed them the photos.
Why had the house been so cheap?
Ayaan had asked that question three different times.
Each time his father gave the same answer.
"It's old, that's all."
But, Ayaan wasn't sure he beleived that.
The car finally turned off the main road onto a narrow dirt path. The trees grew thicker here, blocking even more light from the already dark sky.
After another minute, the car slowed down.
"There it is," Mr. Malik said proudly.
Ayaan leaned forward slightly.
At first, he couldn't see anything clearly through the rain. Then lightning flashed again, and for a split secondthe entire place appeared in white light.
The house stood on a small hill.
It was enormous.
Three floors tall, with long windows and a wide balcony stretching across the front. The paint on the walls had faded long ago, leaving patches of dull grey and brown. The roof looked slightly crooked, and several vines had grown up the sides of the building.
Even from the distance, the house looked….. tired.
Like it had been waiting a long time for someone to return.
Sara leaned closer to the window.
"It looks scary", she whispered.
"It's not scary", thier mother said quickly, "it just needs some cleaning ".
Mr. Malik parked the car near the front gate.
The engine turned off, and then suddenly everything felt quiet except for the rain tapping against the roof of the car.
Ayaan opened the door first.
Cold air rushed toward him immediately. The smell outside was strange—damp wood mixed with something older, something he couldn't quite recognise.
He stepped onto the wet ground and looked up at the mansion.
The windows were dark.
All of them.
For a moment, Ayaan felt the odd sensation that the house was watching them.
Then his father clapped his hands together.
"Alright, everyone let's move the bags".
The trunk opened, and they began unloading their luggage.
As Ayaan carried one of the boxes toward the front door he noticed, someone standing bear the edge of the gate.
An old man.
He wore a long brown coat and held a large umbrella. His face was wrinkled, and his white beard moved slightly in the wind.
When Ayaan got closer, the man nodded politely.
"You must be the new family", he said in a slow voice.
"Yes", Mr. Malik replied while walking over, "You are..?"
"Rahman", the old man said. "Caretaker of this property".
Mr. Malik smiled.
"Good to meet you."
The old man's eyes shofted towards the house for a moment before returning to the family.
"It has been empty for many years", he said.
"That's what the agent told us ", Mr. Malik replied. "But, it's a beautiful place."
The old man didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at the tall building again.
His expression became difficult to read.
"Beautiful", he repeated quietly.
Ayaan noticed his hesitation.
"Did people livehere before?" He asked.
The caretaker slowly nodded.
"Many families".
"What happened to them?"sara asked.
For a second, the old man looked directly at her.
His eyes seemed darker now,
"They left", he said.
Something about the way he said those words made Ayaan uncomfortable.
Left.
That was it.
No explanation.
No details.
Mr. Malik cleared his throat.
"Well, we're here now", he said cheerfully. "And we're planning to stay a long time."
The caretaker studied him carefully.
Then he stepped closer.
"There is only one thing you should remember ".
Mr. Malik raised an eyebrow.
"What's that?"
The old ma lowered his voice slightly.
"The attic".
Ayaan immediately became curious.
"What about it?"
The caretaker looked toward the top floor of the mansion.
"There is a door there," he said slowly. "Locked for a reason".
Mr. Malik chuckled.
"Old houses always have locked rooms."
"Yes", the caretaker replied.
"But some doors are meant to stay closed".
For a moment no one spoke.
The rain continued falling around them.
Then Mr. Malik waved his hand dismissively.
"Well, we'll worry about that later. Right now we need to get inside before eveything gets soaked."
The caretaker stepped aside.
"Of course".
Ayaan walked up the stone steps tk the front door.
It was massive and made of dark wood. The metal handle felt cold in his hand.
He pushed the door open.
It creeked loudly.
The sound echoed through the entire house.
Inside, the air felt even colder.
Dust covered the floor and furniture. Long curtains hung beside the windows, barely moving in the faint breeze.
A large chandelier hung from the ceiling above the entrance hall, though several of it's lights were broken.
Sara stepped inside slowly.
"It's darker than I thought ". She said.
Their mother tirned on her mobile flashlight.
"We'll clean everything tomorrow ".
Ayaan looked around the hallways.
Old paintings hung on the walls.
Most of them showed people from another time— men in suits, wonen in long dresses.
But something about the portraits felt strange.
It took him a few seconds to realise what it was.
The eyes.
Every single portrait seemed to be staring directly at the entrance.
At the people who had just arrived.
Sara suddenly graabed his arm.
"Ayaan".
"What?"
She pointed toward the staircase.
At the top of the stairs, the hallway disappeared into darkness.
For a breif moment, Ayaan thought he saw something move there.
A small shadow.
Like someone quickly stepping away from the railing.
He blinked.
The hallway was empty.
"You saw that?" Sara whispered.
"Saw what?" Their mother asked.
Sara hesitated.
Then she shook her head.
"Nothing".
Mr. Malik set thelast box down and looked around proudly.
"Well, " he said.
"This place is ours now".
Thunder rumbled somewhere far away.
Ayaan glanced back towards the staircase again.
The darkness upstairs felt thicker somehow.
He couldn't explain why, but a strange thought crossed his mind.
The house had been empty fo rmany years
But somehow...
It didn't feel empty now.
To be continued...…..