My name is Rahman. I'm a graphic designer. Life was going pretty well — until three months ago. That's when something started slowly driving me insane.
It's my daughter, Raisa. She's four. Every night before sleeping, she looks under her bed and says,
"Abbu, that auntie is here again. She says she has no legs."
At first, I laughed. Kids imagine things. But one night, she screamed.
I ran to her room. She was pointing under the bed. I grabbed a torch and looked — nothing. But Raisa said,
"She just went inside the wall. She says she'll come out soon."
That night, strange things began.
The kitchen light started turning off by itself. Then — scratching sounds from the walls at night. My wife Sathi said,
"It's just rats in the walls."
I wanted to believe that.
But last night… I can't keep this to myself anymore.
It was 2:23 AM. I was in the living room working on my laptop. Suddenly, from Raisa's room — a sound like nails dragging on marble. I rushed in. Raisa was asleep. Under her bed — nothing.
But the wall beside her…
There was a handprint. Five fingers. Fresh. Wet. Like someone had just reached out from inside the wall and touched it.
My throat went dry.
Then — a voice behind me. A girl's voice.
"Your daughter knows who I am. You don't."
I spun around. No one.
I woke Raisa. She rubbed her eyes and said,
"Abbu, that auntie says she lives with us. She says she has a demand."
"What demand?"
Raisa looked at me with wide eyes.
"She says someone needs to give her back a face. Because she doesn't have one."
Then Raisa smiled — but not like my daughter. Like someone else.
Before I could call Sathi, Raisa spoke again — her lips didn't move, but her voice came through:
"Baba, she says you'll be awake tomorrow night too. That's when she'll come out."
I woke Sathi up. Told her everything. She saw the handprint. She went silent.
We decided we'd visit a holy man tomorrow. But sleep? Impossible.
At 3 AM, the phone rang. Unknown number. I picked up — a scream. Then crying. Then the line went dead.
My hands shook.
Then the wall behind us — thump, thump, thump — like someone hammering nails. At 3 AM.
I walked closer. Pressed my ear to the wall.
And heard it — a whisper.
"Rahman… do you know that ten years ago, a girl killed herself in this house? She's still here. Her name is Shreya. And she's not in the wall anymore. She's out."
I turned around.
A hand was reaching through the bedroom door crack. Five fingers. Dirty. Long nails. It was waving at me — calling me.
Then the hand pushed the door open. A girl stepped out.
No face. Just emptiness. White saree. Black hair.
She walked toward me.
I couldn't move.
She stopped inches away. Even without a face — I knew she was smiling.
Then she whispered—
"If you want to know why I'm here… you'll have to wait for the second part."
And she was gone.
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To be continued…
Second part coming if this gets 5 comments.
Then you'll find out — who was she? Why did she come back? And why does Raisa seem to know everything?