The hotel's fireplace crackled softly as the girls huddled in the lounge that evening. Hot chocolate in hand, they sat in a loose circle—some on sofas, some cross-legged on the floor. But the warmth didn't quite reach their bones. Not after what happened upstairs.
Prajwal, ever the composed one, hadn't spoken much since their encounter. She sat near the window, gazing out into the dark. Her silence was heavy—not out of fear, but thought.
"I swear I saw the knob move," Swara said for the third time, arms tightly folded.
"You're not alone," Akshada added. "It didn't feel like wind or coincidence. That door… it knew we were there."
"Okay, stop it. Stop it right now," Akshara said, nervously pulling her hoodie strings tight around her face. "You guys always do this. Say creepy stuff at night and then expect me to sleep."
"Akshara, that's literally the fun of it," Anushka said, tossing popcorn in the air and catching it. "If we don't almost wet our pants from ghost stories, did we even go on a trip?"
Sitting beside her, Srushti giggled. "Let's just say the ghost was lonely and wanted three pretty girls to visit."
"More like wanted three sacrifices," Khushi said in a small voice.
Apurva glanced at Swarali, who had gone quiet too. "Do you think there's actually something... cursed about Room 309?"
"I don't know," Swarali replied. "But even if it's superstition, the staff seemed scared too. That man—remember how serious he got?"
Rutuja, curled up with a pillow, added, "He didn't just warn us… he was begging us."
Prajwal finally spoke. "I think we need to know why."
The group turned toward her.
"There's something in that room. Or something happened there," she continued. "It's not just old wood creaking. I felt it—the air. It was colder, like it didn't belong to this world."
"Alright," Anushka leaned forward, rubbing her hands together. "Let's make a plan."
"No!" Akshara yelled, nearly falling off the couch. "Don't say 'plan' like this is Scooby Doo. I am not following you to that room."
"Relax, scaredy-cat," Anushka grinned. "I just meant we gather info first. Maybe from the staff?"
"Actually…" Rutuja said slowly, "I saw a local guide standing near the garden gate this morning. He was talking to the receptionist. Maybe he knows something."
"Good," said Prajwal. "We'll talk to him tomorrow morning."
That night, after dinner, the girls returned to their rooms, the tension still in the air. In Room 301, Prajwal, Swara, and Akshada barely spoke. They lay in their beds, lights off, listening to the howling wind outside.
At 1:17 AM, a knock echoed through the hall.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
All the girls heard it. And not one dared open their door.
In Room 304, Srushti whispered, "Was that someone… knocking on 309?"
Anushka clutched her blanket tighter. "You heard it too?"
Then—silence.
But not the comforting kind. The kind that screams louder than any sound.
---
The Next Morning
They all gathered near the garden, looking for the man Rutuja mentioned. Sure enough, there he was—gray hair, brown shawl, leaning on a cane, sipping chai near the gate.
"Excuse me, uncle," Rutuja stepped forward politely. "Can we ask you something?"
He looked up, kind eyes shadowed with something older than age.
"You girls staying in the west wing?" he asked.
They nodded.
He sighed. "You heard it last night, didn't you?"
A chill passed between them.
"Room 309," Prajwal said.
The man took a deep breath. "Twenty years ago, a girl died there. A tourist. Her name was Neha."
The group leaned closer, breath held.
"She came here with her college friends. Just like you girls. Stayed in that very room. She was cheerful, beautiful, full of life. But she disappeared on the fourth night. The others said she sleepwalked… that she was hearing whispers."
He paused.
"They found her in the woods two days later. Dead. No wounds. No signs of struggle. Just... gone. Her body frozen, her expression terrified."
"Did they say what she saw?" Swara asked softly.
"No one knows. But since then… strange things happen on the fourth night. Knocks. Whispers. Some claim they see her reflection in the mirrors."
"Why don't they close the room?" Swarali asked.
"They tried. But it… reopens."
Everyone looked at each other, goosebumps rising.
"Just stay away from it," he said firmly. "Don't answer the knocks. Don't speak to the mirrors. And whatever you do—don't enter that room on the fourth night."
---