The clock struck 12:03 AM.
Raghav turned in his bed, half-asleep, when he heard it.
Knock… knock… knock.
His eyes snapped open.
At first, he thought it was part of a dream. The room was dark, silent, and still—just like every other night in his small village house. The fan creaked above him, slicing the silence slowly.
Then it came again.
Knock… knock…
This time, louder.
Raghav sat up.
"Kaun hai?" he called out, his voice shaky.
No answer.
His heart began to race. Nobody visited at this hour. Not in this village. Not ever.
He grabbed his phone. No signal. The battery flickered at 2%.
The knocking stopped.
For a moment, everything went quiet again.
Too quiet.
Raghav slowly got out of bed. His feet touched the cold floor, sending a chill up his spine. He moved toward the door, each step heavier than the last.
As he reached the handle—
Knock.
This time, it came from behind him.
Raghav froze.
The sound wasn't coming from the main door anymore.
It was coming from inside the house.
From the closed storeroom at the end of the hallway.
His throat went dry.
That room had been locked for years.
No one used it.
No one even went near it.
Yet now…
Knock… knock…
Raghav slowly turned around, his eyes fixed on the door.
The handle of the storeroom began to move.
Click.
It unlocked.
The door creaked open on its own, revealing complete darkness inside.
And then—
A whisper.
"Raghav… you finally came back…"
His blood ran cold.
Because that voice…
It sounded exactly like his own.
To be continued…