Ahaan was trying to live normally.
Go to school.
Do his homework.
Forget about ghosts, shadows, whispers in mirrors, and girls crying in the rain.
But of course, his life was far from normal now.
It started again on a school trip.
His class was visiting a history museum in the city — full of old paintings, broken clocks, and creepy wax statues that looked too real.
He wasn't scared.
Until he had to take the elevator alone.
"Wait! I'm coming too!" his friend called out.
But the teacher grabbed the boy's arm. "No time. Use the next one."
The elevator doors closed.
Ahaan was alone.
He pressed Floor 5, where his class was going.
The elevator hummed quietly.
A soft ding.
Floor 1… 2… 3… 4…
Then it stopped.
But the number displayed wasn't 5.
It was 6.
But the museum only had 5 floors.
Ahaan's stomach tightened.
He hadn't pressed 6.
And this floor didn't even exist.
The lights flickered.
Ding.
The door slowly slid open.
He should've stayed inside.
But something strange pulled at him.
The hallway outside looked... empty.
Dim lights.
Faded walls.
Like a place long forgotten.
Ahaan stepped out.
The doors closed behind him with a whisper.
He didn't press anything.
He didn't ask for this.
But he was here now.
There were no sounds. Not even the hum of electricity.
Just a long, empty hallway.
Each door was marked with strange numbers: 7.4, 3.9, 11.0 — numbers that didn't make sense.
He walked slowly.
The book in his backpack buzzed with heat.
He took it out.
It opened.
CASE NINE:
"The Floor That Shouldn't Exist"
Some buildings remember things their owners forget.
Some floors were sealed, locked, erased.
But they remember.
And they want you to remember them, too.
Suddenly, he heard it.
Footsteps.
Not behind him.
Above him.
On the ceiling.
He looked up — and saw footprints forming one by one… as if someone was walking upside-down, following him.
He ran.
The hallway stretched longer and longer.
No windows. No turns. Just endless doors.
Then one door opened.
All on its own.
Inside was a room filled with mirrors.
But none showed his reflection.
Instead, each mirror showed a different version of Ahaan.
One was crying.
One was bleeding.
One was smiling — but his eyes were completely black.
And one... was banging on the glass, screaming, "LET ME OUT! I'M THE REAL ONE!"
Ahaan backed out of the room in horror.
The door behind him slammed shut.
And all the doors on the floor opened together.
From each one, people stepped out.
But their faces were missing.
No eyes.
No nose.
Just smooth, pale skin.
They walked toward him slowly… arms outstretched.
He turned to run—
But the elevator was gone.
Just a blank wall.
Trapped.
The faceless people whispered without mouths.
"You weren't supposed to see us."
"This floor was hidden for a reason."
"Now we have to keep you here."
Ahaan turned back to the book.
"Tell me what to do!" he begged.
A new line appeared.
"Find the door that remembers your name.
Only that one leads home."
But every door looked the same.
Every number twisted and changed when he stared too long.
He closed his eyes.
Breathed deeply.
Thought hard.
Then whispered to himself:
"I am Ahaan. I belong to the fifth floor. I am alive. I am real."
A door at the far end glowed faintly.
Just for a second.
He ran.
The faceless people followed, faster now.
Their heads twisting. Limbs bending wrong.
One reached for his shoulder—
He leapt through the glowing door.
Suddenly—
He was in the elevator again.
Panting.
Soaked in sweat.
The doors dinged and opened.
Fifth floor.
His classmates were there, laughing, talking, as if nothing had happened.
No one noticed he was missing.
Except one boy.
Who stared at him strangely.
The boy walked over and whispered, "How did you get back?"
"What?"
The boy leaned closer.
His voice changed.
Deep. Broken.
"You weren't supposed to escape."
And just like that — the boy smiled and walked away.
That night, Ahaan stared at the ceiling of his bedroom.
Too afraid to sleep.
Too afraid to close his eyes.
Because now…
He kept hearing elevator dings.
In his dreams.
And in the dark hallway of his house.
After this..