Tanvi woke up with a sharp gasp, her heart racing as if it would burst out of her chest. The room was wrapped in early dawn silence, and beside her Raghav slept peacefully, unaware of the fear gripping her. She sat up slowly, pressing her palm against her chest. “It was just a dream,” she whispered to herself, yet her eyes drifted unwillingly toward the window.
The abandoned wada stood there, dark and silent, but something about it felt wrong, as if the shadows clinging to its walls had grown heavier overnight. She turned away quickly, pulling the blanket closer, when she suddenly heard it—a faint whisper carried by the air, so soft it almost blended with the wind. “Tanvi…” Her breath caught.
She shook Raghav’s shoulder urgently. “Raghav, wake up… did you hear that?” He groaned sleepily and opened his eyes. “Hear what?” he asked. “Someone called my name,” she said, her voice trembling. Raghav pulled her closer and sighed, “You’re exhausted. After everything that happened, your mind is just playing tricks on you.” Tanvi nodded but stayed tense, because deep down she knew she hadn’t imagined it.
Throughout the day, she tried to act normal, helping Sunanda and Madhavi with wedding preparations, folding clothes and arranging flowers, forcing smiles when needed. Yet every few minutes, she felt as though someone was standing just behind her.
Once, while sorting bangles, she suddenly felt a cold breath near her ear and spun around sharply. “Who’s there?” she blurted out, but the room was empty. Later, while passing the corridor mirror, she caught her reflection—and for a horrifying second, another face appeared behind her shoulder, burnt and hollow-eyed. “Aah!” she screamed, drawing everyone’s attention. Raghav rushed to her side. “Tanvi, what happened?” She swallowed hard, her voice shaking.
“I… I thought I saw something. Maybe I’m just dizzy.” Raghav frowned but tried to calm her. “You need rest. This house is old, full of shadows and stories. Don’t let fear control you.” She looked at him helplessly. “I’m not scared without reason, Raghav. Something is wrong.” He shook his head gently. “There’s nothing wrong. Someone might be trying to scare the family. That’s all.”
That evening, Tanvi was alone in their room, folding clothes, when the light flickered briefly and the air turned cold. Her hands froze mid-motion as she heard slow footsteps approaching—bare, deliberate, echoing closer with each second. “Raghav?” she called, her voice barely above a whisper. There was no answer.
The footsteps stopped right outside the door, and she saw a shadow beneath it. Her heart pounded as the door handle turned slightly. She stumbled back, her back hitting the wall, but when the door creaked open, the corridor stood empty, silent. When
Raghav returned and saw her pale face, he asked worriedly, “What happened now?” She tried to explain, her words tumbling out. “I heard someone walking… the door moved on its own.” He sighed softly, holding her shoulders. “Tanvi, fear feeds fear. If we react to every sound, it will only get worse.” Her eyes filled with tears as she asked quietly, “Then why does it feel like it’s following me?” Raghav didn’t reply immediately, and that silence frightened her more than his denial.
That night, Tanvi lay awake beside him, staring into the darkness, feeling the weight of unseen eyes on her. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to calm herself, when a cold whisper brushed against her ear. “Don’t trust him…” Her eyes snapped open. She turned toward Raghav, who slept peacefully, unaware of the terror tearing through her. Tears slid silently down her temples as she realized that whatever had begun in the abandoned wada had not stayed there. The shadows were no longer outside the house. They were inside her—and they were growing stronger.
