Their footsteps echoed through the corridor, each step swallowed by the heavy silence. Not even the faintest creak of the old building dared to interrupt.
Rishi was still recording, shifting angles every few seconds. At first, he walked ahead of the group, filming the darkness in front of them, but soon he moved behind to capture their backs as they walked.
Kabir, voice low, muttered, "Why, bro... why in every horror movie or anime, there's always a creepy corridor like this? And now we're actually in one. This place gives me chills."
Dev glanced over at Rishi. "Bro, with the way you're shooting from all these angles, one day a ghost's just gonna pop right in front of your camera and strike a pose."
The corridor eventually opened into a large area near the courtyard—the very place where morning prayers were once held. Classrooms surrounded it on all sides, both on the ground floor and the first floor. The school had only two floors, but even in the fog and dim light, the place felt endless.
Rishi panned his camera across the courtyard, catching glimpses of broken windows, rusted railings, and vines creeping over walls. Dev and Kabir stood still for a moment, lost in thought.
Kabir said quietly, "Those days were good, na? Standing in line here every morning, doing the prayers."
Dev laughed. "How can we forget that bald vice principal and the fat principal? Both just standing like statues for no reason, then giving speeches no one cared about."
Sameer chuckled. "And how can we forget PT sir? Always scolding you two because you were talking during prayer."
Dev smirked. "And who was the one who fainted during prayer, huh? Remember that? And then a bunch of prefect girls took you to the shade in the classroom."
Sameer frowned. "It was only one time! And I wasn't feeling well."
Dev and Sameer began to argue, voices bouncing off the silent walls. Kabir, grinning like a troublemaker, kept throwing little comments to make it worse.
Aman stepped in, hands raised. "Enough, you two. Seriously."
Rohit just shook his head and sighed. "These people..."
Meanwhile, Arjun stood in the corner, leaning against a cracked pillar, arms crossed, head slightly lowered—his posture radiating calm but dangerous energy.
Rishi, curious, turned his camera toward Arjun. As the lens zoomed in, Rishi froze. Through the camera, he swore he saw a faint reddish glow in Arjun's eyes. But when he lowered the camera and looked directly... nothing. Just Arjun's normal, cold stare.
Rishi confused but said nothing. Instead, he called out, "Hey, everyone, come here. I wanna show you something."
Dev and Rohit walked over first. "What happened, bro?" Dev asked.
Rishi smiled faintly and pointed. "Look at this... this was our classroom. Four years ago."
The others gathered around. Kabir's eyes softened. "How nostalgic this is..."
Arjun replied coldly, his voice cutting through the uneasy silence.
"This... is not our classroom. This was..."
Before he could finish, a sudden chill swept through the air, making the hairs on everyone's arms stand up.
Aman glanced around, his tone laced with a grim sort of confirmation.
"Yeah... kinda figured. Just look at this place—vines creeping through the windows, floors cracked and splintered... blood handprints and deep scratch marks on the walls... and these torn papers scattered like the wind's been whispering secrets here for years."
Dev (smirking, trying to lighten the mood):
"Alright... let's take a little trip back in time. Our past, our classroom... though something tells me it won't feel quite the same anymore."
As they all approached the door, Rishi tilted his camera up, focusing on the old, weather-worn wood.
Dev grabbed the handle and gave it a pull—but it wouldn't budge.
"Uh... nope. Stuck. Guess it's been on vacation for the last four years."
Kabir stepped forward. "Bro, maybe give it a little force. Probably something's blocking it from the other side."
Before Dev could try again, Aman placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Leave it to me."
He gripped the handle firmly and shoved—not hard enough to break it, just enough to loosen the decades of stubbornness. The hinges groaned in protest. After a few heaves, the wood finally gave way.
Aman began to slowly push the door open.
Every heartbeat in the group seemed to thump in unison.
Then—DONG... DONG...
The deep toll of a church bell rolled across the foggy night. Everyone froze where they stood.
Dev glanced at his watch, smirking in the dark.
"Well... looks like the ghosts are out for their midnight stroll. Exactly 12:00, bro."
One by one, they stepped into the classroom—Rishi first, already recording, then Aman, Kabir, Dev, Rohit, and Arjun.
Sameer was last.
Just as he placed his hand on the doorframe, something caught his eye. Across the courtyard, half-hidden behind a cracked pillar, stood a tall, strange figure. Its posture was rigid... unnatural. Two red, glowing eyes burned in the fog, locked directly onto him, piercing straight into his soul.
Sameer's breath hitched. His legs felt like they were carved from ice. With a shaky step, he forced himself inside the classroom, not daring to look back.
Dev glanced at him, eyebrow raised.
"What happened, bro? Looks like you just saw another ghost... or something."
Sameer finished explaining the strange events, his tone half-nervous, half-serious.
Dev leaned back, a grin spreading across his face.
Dev: "Bro... looks like the ghost liked that last guy from the squad. And from the looks of it—" he smirked "—you're his favorite."
The others burst into laughter, the tension in the room breaking for a moment.
Sameer's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing in silent frustration.
The scene shifted to the classroom around them — broken benches scattered like discarded bones, chairs and tables missing legs, the blackboard veined with deep cracks. The walls bore long scars of peeling paint, and the notice board's paper hung in torn, curling fragments.
In the corner, an old cupboard stood crooked, one of its doors broken and hanging loose, swaying ever so slightly... as if something inside had moved.
Kabir, curious as always, walked over to the crooked cupboard. He gripped the loose door to peek inside—only for it to snap right off into his hand with a loud crack.
Dev burst out laughing, "Bro, go soft on the door, not like it owes you money."
Kabir gave a sheepish smile and carefully set the broken door aside before leaning in to search through the dust-filled shelves.
Meanwhile, the others began spreading out across the classroom, each searching through piles of old books, crumpled papers, and broken desk drawers. Every movement sent tiny clouds of dust swirling into the beam of their flashlights, the silence of the place amplifying every creak and rustle.
Suddenly, Rohit's voice broke the quiet. "Hey... guys, come here."
He was crouched near one of the old desk drawers, holding something in his hand. As everyone gathered around, they saw it was a worn-out student diary, its once-bright cover faded and edges chewed by time.
Aman stepped closer, his tone serious. "Check the last date written in it."
Rohit flipped carefully through the yellowed pages, the sound of dry paper echoing faintly in the stillness. Finally, his finger stopped on an entry. He swallowed.
"It's dated... just a few days before the school shut down permanently."
Everyone exchanged uneasy glances. The air felt heavier now, as if the walls themselves remembered what had happened here.
Kabir leaned in, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Read it out loud, bro."
Rohit adjusted his grip on the fragile diary and began to read in a low voice:
"Today... something unexpected happened in our school. One of our teachers, who had fallen ill a few days earlier... we heard he died this morning.
The entire school was shocked—this is now the fourth death in just one week."
Everyone went silent, the words hanging in the stale air like a bad omen.
Before Rohit could continue, Kabir suddenly spoke, his tone dark.
"Yeah... how could we forget about the deaths back then? One after another, people just... gone. Four years ago, it was chaos—panic everywhere in the school."
Aman nodded gravely, and the others followed, each remembering the whispers, the fear, the way the atmosphere in the school had shifted overnight.
Rohit glanced back down at the faded ink, his voice low as he continued:
"Students and teachers whisper among themselves about the cause of these incidents... some say it's a disease, some call it a curse... others believe it's murder.
I heard that our principal has issued strict orders—no one is to speak of this in public or to the media. He says it's to protect the school's reputation.
But... there's something mysterious happening here... something dark..."
Rohit's voice trailed off, and his brows furrowed.
Dev, sensing the sudden stop, asked, "What happened, bro? Why'd you stop?"
Rohit closed the diary gently. "Because... this is the end of the last entry in this diary."
A heavy silence filled the room, the air seeming colder than before.
Sameer's voice dropped, in serious tone.
"These incidents... they were happening again and again. Deaths started with one, then two... but I can't remember how many people died in that short time. Our principal never took it seriously..."
Before he could finish, the sound came—drip... drip... drip...
The echo seemed to crawl through the walls, each drop heavier, sharper, closer.
A sudden chill gripped everyone's spine.
Rohit's eyes darted around. "Bro... where's that sound coming from?"
Dev gave a half-nervous smirk. "Probably the nearby washroom... or toilet."
Nobody laughed.
Slowly, as if pulled by some unseen thread, they left the classroom. The beam of Rishi's camera light cut through the dust in the corridor. They gathered at the intersection, staring into the pitch-black corridor that led to the washroom.