Ahaan stared at the birth certificate on the hospital table.
His hands were cold. His mind was louder than ever.
"St. Elora's Orphanage."
"That's where I was born…"
His chest tightened.
His mom had never told him this.
Why?
Was it to protect him?
Or… to hide something?
Later that day, after getting discharged, Ahaan sat in his room.
He couldn't sleep. Couldn't think straight.
The words "You were always the door" kept playing in his mind.
And now, this question burned inside him:
"Was I the only one who survived the fire?"
If others made it out…
Maybe they knew more.
Maybe they had the same dreams.
Maybe…
One of them had turned into The Other One.
He opened the journal again.
Pages flipped on their own, faster than ever.
Then stopped.
On a page that had never been there before.
It showed a list of names—faded, but still readable.
Children who lived in the orphanage.
There were twelve names.
And next to each name, something was written in red:
Maya – Found dead in well
Rishi – Missing, body never found
Anika – Burned beyond recognition
Jai – Still alive (?)
Ahaan – Adopted (You)
Ahaan froze.
One line jumped out.
"Jai – Still alive (?)"
Another survivor.
Ahaan's heartbeat quickened.
He whispered, "Jai… he's alive?"
The journal started to bleed black ink from the corners.
Letters twisted into a sentence:
"Find Jai… before he finds you."
That night, Ahaan couldn't sleep again.
He kept hearing footsteps outside his room.
Scraping.
Dragging.
He grabbed his phone and opened the flashlight.
Slowly, he walked to the door.
Opened it.
No one.
Just the long hallway… dark and quiet.
But as he turned back to his bed—
A piece of paper was now sitting on his pillow.
He hadn't put it there.
His mom hadn't been in the room.
He picked it up with shaking fingers.
On it was a photo.
Four children standing in front of the orphanage.
One was definitely Ahaan.
Another had his face scratched out completely.
On the back of the photo, something was written in rough handwriting:
"He remembers you too."
Ahaan felt sick.
He dropped the photo.
Suddenly, he heard music.
That same broken music box tune.
But it wasn't coming from his room.
It was coming from… outside his window.
He walked over and pulled back the curtain.
And froze.
A boy was standing in the middle of the street.
Alone.
Back turned.
Not moving.
Wearing a burnt hospital gown.
Hair messy. Barefoot.
Then—slowly—the boy turned around.
His face was pale, with deep black eyes.
And a burned name tag on his chest:
"JAI."
Ahaan stepped back from the window.
But the boy didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Just stared.
Then… smiled.
And in that moment—
Ahaan realized something terrifying.
Jai had survived.
But not as a normal person.
He had become something else.
Something worse than the Other One.
And now, he was watching Ahaan.
The lights in Ahaan's room flickered.
The photo on the bed burned by itself, curling into ash.
His phone screen went black.
And a message appeared:
"You opened the door, Ahaan."
"Now… we all remember."
After....