The morning after the floor gave way should have been impossible.
Yet Raghav woke up.
He was lying on the same bed. The same room. The same dim light leaking through the curtains. For a moment, he thought it had all been a nightmare—the face, the smile, the fall into darkness.
Then he noticed the floor.
Perfect.
No broken planks. No gap. No sign that anything had ever been opened.
Raghav sat up slowly, his heart pounding—not from fear this time, but from something else. Something quieter.
Something… satisfied.
He placed his feet on the floor.
Tap.
A soft knock echoed beneath him.
Raghav froze.
Then, slowly… he smiled.
"Good morning," he whispered.
The house creaked in response, as if acknowledging him.
The days that followed were… different.
Raghav no longer felt alone. Every step he took, every breath he drew, he was aware of something beneath him. Not watching—waiting.
And listening.
At night, the sounds returned—but they no longer scared him.
Scratching.Dragging.Whispers too soft to understand.
Sometimes, he would lie awake and press his ear to the floor.
And he would hear them clearly.
Not words.
But emotions.
Hunger.Patience.Joy.
Especially joy.
One evening, there was a knock at the door.
A real one.
Raghav frowned. Visitors were rare here.
When he opened it, he found his neighbor—a middle-aged man with tired eyes and a forced smile.
"Hi," the man said. "Just wanted to check in. Haven't seen you around much."
Raghav stared at him for a moment.
Something felt… wrong.
Not with the man.
With the silence.
For the first time since that night, the house was completely quiet.
No scratching.No whispers.Nothing beneath the floor.
Raghav's smile faded.
"They don't like you," he said softly.
The neighbor blinked. "What?"
Raghav stepped closer, his eyes unfocused, as if listening to something far away.
"They stopped talking," he murmured. "They only do that when they're… uncomfortable."
A nervous laugh escaped the neighbor. "Uh… okay. Maybe I should—"
"Wait."
Raghav grabbed his wrist.
The moment their skin touched—
Tap.Tap.Tap.
The knocking returned.
Louder.
Excited.
Raghav's face lit up.
"They're back," he whispered. "They're curious about you."
The neighbor tried to pull away. "Hey, let go—"
But Raghav's grip tightened.
"You should come in," he said.
The air inside the house felt heavier now. Thicker. Like it was breathing.
The floorboards creaked—not from movement above…
…but from something shifting below.
That night, the house was alive with sound.
Scratching.Dragging.Knocking.
And something new.
More voices.
Raghav sat on the edge of his bed, smiling as he listened.
"You like him," he said softly.
The floor beneath him pulsed faintly.
Tap.Tap.Tap.
"Yes," Raghav nodded. "I understand."
He stood up and walked to the center of the room.
The wood beneath his feet began to rise again.
Cracking.
Splitting.
Opening.
Darkness yawned below.
And from it—
Hands.
Many hands.
Reaching.
Waiting.
Raghav stepped back and gestured toward the door, where faint, muffled sounds of struggle could be heard.
"He's yours," he said calmly.
The hands trembled with anticipation.
And as the floor fully opened, the same face emerged from the darkness—
That wide, impossible smile.
"You're learning," it whispered.
Raghav smiled back.
"I want to make you… happier."
The creature's eyes gleamed.
"Oh," it said, "you already are."
The next morning, the house was quiet again.
Peaceful.
Satisfied.
Raghav stood in the kitchen, humming softly as he made tea.
There was no sign of the neighbor.
No sign of anything unusual.
Just a faint stain on the floor.
And beneath it—
A slow…
Content…
Tap.