Ahaan was tired so badly ,
His body was at school, doing homework.
But his mind was still stuck on the photo booth.
The last photo still haunted him — the one with the shadow behind him. The missing photo that reappeared on his pillow.
He barely slept that night.
And now, something new was pulling him in.
That evening, while walking home alone, Ahaan took a shortcut.
It was the usual way — through the crowded main road, then the small lane between two buildings.
He walked without thinking.
Until he saw it.
A new alley.
Dark. Narrow. Thin as a hallway. But deep.
It cut between two old shops he had passed a hundred times before.
But this alley? He had never seen it before.
Ever.
There was no light inside. Just shadows.
And yet… something in his chest tugged him forward.
Like an invisible string.
He looked around.
The street was empty.
Too quiet.
Even the dogs weren't barking.
He took one step into the alley.
Then two.
Then the world behind him vanished.
No street.
No buildings.
Just black walls.
The entrance was gone.
The alley had swallowed him.
Ahaan turned and ran back.
But the more he ran, the longer it stretched.
The bricks felt like they were breathing.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Water leaked from cracks.
But the sound wasn't water.
It sounded like whispers.
Whispers that said his name.
"Ahaan..."
"He found us..."
"He shouldn't have come..."
He pressed his hands over his ears.
"I want to go home!" he shouted.
But the walls answered, low and cold.
"Then you must pay."
The book in his bag burned hot.
He grabbed it.
A page flipped by itself.
CASE ELEVEN:
"The Alley That Moves"
Not all places want to be found.
Some feed on footsteps.
Some grow longer with every breath you take.
And when you stop walking — it starts watching.
Suddenly, he noticed eyes.
All along the walls.
Open wide.
Blinking.
Watching.
And then… something stepped out of the wall.
It looked like a man, but twisted.
Bent legs. Arms too long.
Skin black like tar, but cracking with red lines.
It moved like liquid.
Its face had no mouth — just eyes.
Dozens and dozens of them.
All blinking.
All crying blood.
It whispered:
"You came where you shouldn't have.
Now stay."
Ahaan turned and ran deeper into the alley.
Walls shifted.
Floor twisted.
Sometimes it felt like he was going in circles.
Sometimes like he was going down.
Like falling into a hole that never ends.
He tripped.
Fell hard.
Blood on his knee.
And then—
He saw a door.
Just a plain, wooden door.
Standing alone in the middle of the alley.
No frame. No wall behind it.
Just… the door.
It had a note nailed to it:
"Your way out… but only if you forget something."
"Forget what?" Ahaan whispered.
Then he heard the voice again — but this time inside his head.
"If you want to leave, give me one memory.
A precious one.
Something you love."
"The alley doesn't let anyone go for free."
Ahaan hesitated.
He remembered his mother.
The way she used to sing him to sleep when he was scared.
He remembered that photo.
The last night she sang to him.
Before she disappeared.
Before the spirits started chasing him instead.
"No," he whispered. "Not that."
The voice laughed.
"Then stay."
Suddenly, the twisted man appeared again.
Closer now.
Its fingers stretched like ropes.
Ahaan had seconds.
He reached into his pocket and found something small.
A keychain.
His father had given it to him when he was six. A tiny wooden owl.
He stared at it.
Smiled, sadly.
Then dropped it at the foot of the door.
The door clicked.
Opened slightly.
Wind rushed through.
Cold. Wet. Alive.
He stepped through—
And landed hard.
In his bed.
Back home.
Lights off.
Room quiet.
But something was missing.
He couldn't remember what.
Something about an owl.
Something about a song.
It slipped from his mind like smoke.
The next morning, Ahaan walked by the same two shops again.
The alley was gone.
No crack between buildings.
No narrow path.
No shadows.
Just wall.
But when he checked the book…
The case was still there.
And below it, a new line was written:
"Every path takes something.
Every step has a cost.
And what is lost… never comes back the same."
Then.....