The House That Shouldn't Exist

Aarav stood at the edge of an abandoned road, staring at the house from his vision.

It shouldn't exist.

And yet, there it was.

The same cracked walls, the same eerie, lifeless windows that had haunted his mind since the mirror room. The air around it felt thicker, like the house was breathing, waiting.

He swallowed, stepping closer.

Each footstep on the gravel path sounded too loud, as if the world had gone silent just for him. The house loomed over him, tall and ominous, as if it had been plucked straight from a nightmare.

The door wasn't locked. It creaked open on its own.

Aarav hesitated. Was this a trap?

Everything screamed at him to turn back, but something stronger—a pull deep within his chest—forced him forward. He stepped inside.

The air shifted.

It smelled like dust and old wood, but there was something else underneath. Something metallic. Something rotting.

And then—

A whisper.

"Aarav…"

His blood ran cold.

He knew that voice.

It belonged to someone he hadn't heard in years.

His mother.

But that was impossible.

She was dead.

Aarav's hands clenched into fists as he took slow, careful steps into the dark corridor. The wooden floor groaned beneath him. The walls were lined with old portraits, their faces blurred and distorted, as if time had tried to erase them.

But at the end of the hallway—

A door stood ajar.

Light flickered from within, casting long, shifting shadows.

His heart pounded as he reached for the handle, pushing the door open.

Inside was a study. Dust-covered bookshelves lined the walls, a desk sat untouched in the center, and in front of it—

A woman.

She was sitting in an old chair, her back turned to him, long dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She looked… too familiar.

"Maa?" Aarav whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

The woman didn't move.

His chest tightened. His fingers trembled as he stepped closer, each movement feeling heavier, as if something unseen was pushing him back.

Then—

She turned around.

Aarav froze.

It was her face, but it wasn't her eyes.

Instead of warmth, they were hollow. Pitch black. Empty.

And then—she smiled.

The world plunged into darkness.