Karan didn't touch the door for a long time.
His fingers hovered inches away from the carved words, trembling slightly. The marks were uneven, deep, and raw—like someone had scratched them in desperation.
Not written.
Scratched.
From the inside.
His throat felt dry.
"Don't open it at 3:17…"
He repeated the words under his breath, as if saying them aloud would make them less real.
Less dangerous.
But it didn't help.
If anything, it made everything worse.
Because now—
Now it felt like a warning.
Not for the past.
But for what was about to happen.
---
Karan slowly stepped back.
His eyes moved from the door…
To the wall.
The same wall.
The one where the voice had come from.
Where the tapping had echoed.
Where something had asked to be let out.
The surface looked normal.
Plain.
Cold.
No cracks.
No marks.
Nothing.
And yet—
He couldn't shake the feeling that if he touched it…
Something might touch him back.
He turned away quickly.
"No," he muttered. "No, I'm not doing this again."
His voice was firmer this time.
Forced.
Like he was trying to convince himself more than anything else.
---
The rest of the morning passed in a blur.
Karan avoided the wall.
Avoided the door.
Avoided thinking.
He unpacked slowly, placing his clothes into the dusty cupboard, trying to create some sense of normalcy.
Something routine.
Something real.
But even that felt… off.
Because every few seconds—
He would feel it.
That sensation.
Like someone was watching him.
Not from a distance.
But from somewhere close.
Somewhere inside the house.
---
By noon, sunlight had filled most of the room.
The shadows had retreated.
The air felt lighter.
Almost normal.
Karan exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.
"See? It's fine," he whispered. "Just first-night anxiety."
That made sense.
It had to.
Old house. Strange atmosphere. Overthinking.
That's all.
Nothing else.
---
He picked up his phone.
No network.
"Of course," he sighed.
Perfect.
No distraction.
No escape.
Just him—
And the house.
---
Karan stepped out of his room, deciding to explore properly this time.
In daylight.
When everything made sense.
The corridor looked less threatening now.
Just old.
Neglected.
Normal.
The doors were still slightly open.
All except one.
That same door.
Closed.
Completely.
He stopped walking.
His eyes locked onto it.
For a moment—
He forgot to breathe.
Because something about it had changed.
He was sure of it.
The handle.
It looked…
Worn.
Like someone had been trying to open it.
Recently.
Karan's chest tightened.
"No," he whispered.
He forced himself to move past it.
Not stopping.
Not looking back.
---
The bathroom was at the end of the corridor.
Small.
Old tiles.
A cracked mirror above the sink.
Karan stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
The click echoed softly.
Too softly.
He leaned against the sink and splashed water on his face.
Cold.
Sharp.
Real.
"Get it together," he muttered, staring down.
"Nothing's happening. You're just tired."
He looked up.
At the mirror.
And froze.
For a second—
Just a second—
He thought something was wrong.
The reflection felt…
Delayed.
Not moving exactly when he moved.
Karan blinked.
It matched him again.
Perfectly.
Normal.
He let out a slow breath.
"Yeah… definitely tired."
He leaned closer to the mirror, studying his face.
Dark circles under his eyes.
Tension in his jaw.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing—
His reflection smiled.
Karan didn't.
---
His heart stopped.
For a fraction of a second—
Everything went silent.
His breath.
His thoughts.
Time itself.
The reflection was still smiling.
Wide.
Unnatural.
Too slow.
Too deliberate.
Karan stumbled back instantly.
"What the—"
The reflection snapped back to normal.
Mirroring him perfectly.
No smile.
No delay.
Nothing.
Karan stared at it, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"No… no, I didn't—"
He stepped closer again.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The reflection followed.
Perfect.
Normal.
Exactly the same.
He raised his hand.
It raised its hand.
Same timing.
Same movement.
Nothing wrong.
Nothing at all.
---
Karan let out a shaky laugh.
"Okay… that was just—yeah. Just my brain."
He shook his head, trying to calm down.
"Not funny."
He turned away from the mirror.
Reached for the door.
And paused.
Because something felt…
Off.
Again.
Slowly—
He turned his head back.
The mirror was still.
Still reflecting the empty bathroom.
Except—
Karan wasn't in it.
---
His breath caught in his throat.
He looked down at himself.
Then back at the mirror.
Empty.
No reflection.
Nothing.
Just the sink.
The wall.
The cracked glass.
Karan stumbled backward, his pulse racing.
"That's not possible…"
His voice trembled.
He stepped forward again.
Closer.
Closer.
And suddenly—
He was back.
Standing in the mirror.
Exactly where he should be.
As if he had never disappeared.
---
Karan grabbed the sink tightly.
His knuckles turned white.
"This isn't real… this isn't real…"
He repeated it over and over.
Like a mantra.
Like something to hold onto.
Because if this wasn't real—
Then what was?
---
A sound broke the silence.
Soft.
Faint.
From behind him.
Karan turned sharply.
The bathroom door was still closed.
Nothing moved.
Nothing changed.
But then—
Another sound.
This time clearer.
From inside the mirror.
A faint tapping.
Tap…
Karan's body went rigid.
Tap… tap…
It was coming from the other side.
From inside the reflection.
His eyes slowly lifted.
Meeting his own.
And this time—
The reflection didn't move at all.
It just stood there.
Staring at him.
Unblinking.
Unnatural.
And then—
It raised its hand.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
And placed it against the glass.
From the inside.
Karan's breath hitched.
Because—
He hadn't moved.
---
The reflection's lips parted.
And though no sound came out—
Karan could read them.
Clear.
Slow.
Terrifying.
«"Let me out."»
---
Karan screamed and stumbled back, crashing into the door behind him.
He didn't look again.
Didn't stop.
He yanked the door open and ran out into the corridor, his heart pounding violently in his chest.
His breathing was uneven.
Broken.
He didn't stop running until he reached his room.
Slamming the door shut behind him.
Locking it.
Twice.
---
Silence returned.
Heavy.
Unforgiving.
Karan slid down against the door, his entire body shaking.
"What is happening to me…"
He whispered it.
Barely audible.
Because deep down—
He already knew.
This wasn't just in his head.
This wasn't just fear.
---
Something was wrong.
With the house.
With the reflections.
With reality itself.
---
And maybe—
With him.
---
Karan slowly lifted his head.
His eyes drifted—
Toward the mirror in his room.
It was small.
Mounted on the wall.
Still.
Silent.
Normal.
For now.
---
He stared at it.
Unmoving.
Waiting.
Watching.
And after a few seconds—
Very slowly—
The reflection inside it…
Tilted its head.