When was raining outside.
Ahaan sat in his room, hugging his knees, staring at the wall.
He didn't know what day it was.
He didn't know how long he had been awake.
All he knew was that something was wrong inside him.
He wasn't alone in his own head anymore.
His mother knocked on the door gently.
"Ahaan, are you okay?"
He didn't answer.
She pushed the door open slowly. Her eyes were puffy, like she had been crying.
"Someone… someone saw you near the old lake last night."
Ahaan looked up.
"What? I wasn't there. I didn't go anywhere."
She stepped back, afraid.
"They said… you were digging. And laughing."
Ahaan's chest tightened.
He had no memory of it.
But under his fingernails… there was dirt.
Later that day, he went to the mirror again.
He looked at his face.
He saw himself.
But it felt… fake.
Like a mask.
He opened his mouth to speak — and for a second, his reflection smiled on its own.
He jumped back, heart racing.
The journal opened on its own again.
This time the ink was red, dripping like blood.
CASE THIRTY-EIGHT: The Boy Who Wasn't Ahaan
"A face can lie.
A memory can fade.
But a shadow knows the truth.
You are becoming the Sleeper's echo."
He read it twice.
Sleeper's echo?
Was he a copy?
A shell?
Or worse… was he being replaced?
Zara messaged him.
"I need to see you. Something's wrong. Really wrong."
They met at the old bridge near the school.
Zara looked pale, scared.
She held up a notebook — one Ahaan didn't remember writing in.
But it was his handwriting.
Inside were pages and pages of disturbing drawings.
Ahaan, with no face.
People tied up.
A huge red eye.
Strange symbols.
"You gave me this yesterday," she said. "Do you remember?"
He shook his head.
"I didn't give this to you, Zara. I swear."
"Then who did?" she asked, voice trembling.
Ahaan's hands were shaking now.
He had no answer.
That night, he set up a camera in his room.
He wanted to see what happened while he slept.
When he checked the recording in the morning…
He almost dropped the phone.
At 3:13 AM, Ahaan sat up in bed.
His eyes were wide open.
He was smiling — but not like himself.
Then he stood up, walked to the wall, and whispered:
"Soon, I'll be the only one left."
He stared at the camera for five minutes straight.
And then…
he turned off the camera.
Ahaan gasped.
That meant something inside him knew what he was doing.
Something was hiding.
Pretending.
Waiting.
The next day, his school called his mom.
They said Ahaan had been in class the day before — but he never remembered going.
One of the teachers even said he smiled at her strangely and whispered:
"You'll see what I see soon."
But Ahaan swore he wasn't there.
He walked through town in a daze.
People stared at him.
Whispered behind his back.
Like they were afraid.
Children hid behind their mothers.
Even dogs barked and ran away.
Ahaan passed by a mirror in a store window.
His reflection smiled again.
But he didn't.
It tilted its head and mouthed:
"You're almost gone."
He fell to the ground, gripping his head, screaming inside.
"WHO AM I?!"
For a moment, everything around him blurred.
The street twisted.
The sky turned red.
The people froze in place.
And a voice echoed deep inside:
"You are what I need you to be."
Ahaan ran. Through streets. Through rain. Through fear.
But he couldn't run from himself.
Not anymore.
The journal followed him now — floating, flipping pages by itself.
Final words appeared in bold, shaking ink:
"You are not Ahaan.
Not completely.
You are the door.
And the Sleeper is knocking."
Then....