A student from Indus, even after three attempts, failed to crack the medical university exam.
Under his uncle's demand, he was sent to a faraway country to continue his studies.
He had a younger brother, two years younger, who on his first attempt got into Harvard University.
He was hated by his mother and father, even by his grandparents.
Not particularly smart, not good-looking, not social.
Even at the airport, no one came to see him off.
My life has been full of bullshit.
Not gonna lie — I am a failure.
Once I was an enthusiastic boy.
Now… a failure.
No friends.
No people who care.
It's only me now.
Outside the airport, parents were departing their children.
Some cried. Some took blessings. Some held their tears and hugged their sons and daughters.
While I… alone. Only alone.
Indus to Tajikistan.
It's a long, long journey, I guess.
I hope I won't come back here… here.
Our agency head asked us to walk into the platform.
Everyone was turning back to watch their loved ones.
But I didn't.
You know why.
All of us were lined up for baggage check-in.
Some people started talking.
And I knew — if I spoke to anyone in this group of strangers right now, he or she could be a friend or an asset in the future.
But why?
I questioned myself.
For what? To mock me in their supremacy?
Quietly, putting my head down, I moved on.
I sat in the waiting lounge.
People were asking names, trying to be friends with others.
Agency guys asked everyone to gather and sit together.
It was awkward. So much.
The guy next to me asked,
"What's your name?"
I replied in a severed voice,
"I aaammmm… Bizam."
Then the boarding members called. Our flight had arrived.
Everyone started getting in.
I got the window seat.
Next to me were two girls.
One from our agency — a fellow student.
The other a foreigner.
By looks, a Korean lady, maybe in her twenties.
She glared at me.
I was terrified.
Maybe I was staring too much.
The air hostess told us to tighten our seat belts.
I looked outside.
The runway lights blurred.
Indus… slowly shrinking.
My eighteen years… lifting away.
My throat felt tight.
Then—
THUD.
Something slammed against my window.
Hard.
Everyone gasped.
A black shape stuck to the glass.
A crow.
Alive.
Its wings were twitching.
One eye staring straight at me.
Its beak opened and closed.
But no sound came.
Blood started spreading across the glass.
Slow.
Thick.
Dark red against the white clouds.
The wing bones looked broken.
Still… it moved.
Its claw scratched the window.
Scrrrrk.
My chest tightened.
The blood smeared downwards.
And for one second—
Just one second—
The lines formed something.
Not random.
Not splash.
Letters.
I don't know what it said.
But it wasn't normal.
It felt like it was written for me.
Then the wind pressure pulled the body away.
The crow fell.
Gone.
But the blood stayed.
Sticking.
Sliding.
Vanishing slowly.
A guy behind me leaped to take photos.
"Man, it's amazing!" he screamed.
People complained.
The air hostess closed my window and asked him to switch seats.
But even with it shut—
I could still see the shape in my head.
That eye.
Looking at me.
I closed my eyes and slept.
I woke up. It was night.
The Korean lady typed something — unusual signals, a psycho killer murdering a teenager.
She looked up and made eye contact.
I turned immediately.
"Are you feeling well?" she asked.
"Yesss… I'm good," I stammered.
"I'm Ruby. I'm a researcher. Here on an exchange program for my project."
I introduced myself.
"I'm pursuing medicine."
Most were asleep.
She told me I had missed my meals and handed me cookies.
I refused, but took them.
She added,
"If you don't believe what you saw… then kill."
I took a nap.
The air hostess announced we reached our destination — Dushanbe.
Everyone cheered.
I was… a little not.
We got out of the plane.
I wished to meet Ruby again.
But she disappeared.
Agency fellows had two buses arranged. Nearly a hundred students.
We arrived at our hostel.
The building was old, made of stones.
Green moss everywhere.
Felt like an ancient castle.
From the cramped bus, we got out.
Seniors took our bags.
We were guided to the mess hall.
It was big.
Most were tired.
Some chit-chatting.
Some excited.
Some sad, maybe thinking about family.
I was plain.
"You are…?" someone tapped my back.
"I'm Bizam."
"Don't be tense. I'm a fourth-year medical student. Dan. Hello boy, what's your name?"
He moved on.
Agency head roared — newbies gather.
Bullshit introduction. Motivational crap.
Everyone clapped.
I did too.
The senior clapped like the head had won a freedom movement.
Then he said: make friends. You'll be together for six years.
A girl next to me looked at me.
"I'm Reya. Nice to meet you."
"I'm Bizam. Me too."
Goddamn embarrassing.
Room keys handed.
I was assigned a room with two others — three including me.
Sixth floor.
Girls on lower floors. Boys upper.
Talk about equality.
I waited as people crowded stairs.
The building was old; the mess was renovated, beautiful with LED lights.
Stairs had old yellow lamps.
Beautiful with people.
Horrible alone.
"Need help?"
"Bisman… or Bizman?"
"Oh no, it's Bizam."
"I'll call you Nervi."
"Nervi?" I thought.
"You're so nervous — Nervi, for nerves. Okay?"
"Yes… fine, senior."
"Don't be formal. Call me bro."
"Okay… bro."
"Funny, man. Let me help with the language."
"No, thanks."
"No problem."
"Thanks, bro."
The stairs were horrible.
Cement torn off.
Fall-and-die territory.
I had to be careful.
Now the room.
Three doors — bathroom, two bedrooms.
Mine was 81A.
I opened it.
Two guys inside.
One: tall, curly hair, laying on plywood bed, dusty.
Other: short, goggles, looking through his bag.
Shorty waved.
"You're the third one."
I was terrified.
But he seemed kind.
"I saw you at the airport. You helped an old man with his bag. What's your name?"
"I'm Bizam."
In my mind: tiring to share a room with a talkative guy.
And that guy lying…
Shorty patted him.
"Introduce yourself."
"Hi, I'm Ajaal. Call me AJ."
"By the way, I'm Jakeson," the short one interrupted.
AJ went back to lying.
Jakeson kept chatting.
Apparently, both were from near my city.
I needed to control myself.
I hated chatterboxes already.
"Let's go to bed."
"Yea…h," I nodded.
I cleaned the bed, spread the sheets, and hopped to sleep.
In the middle of the night, thirst woke me.
I grabbed my phone, searched for water — none.
Unwilling, I mustered courage and walked the corridor of this horror house.
Dim light made it scarier.
Silence. Strange silence.
Downstairs, past the entrance — no security.
I reached the mess, drank water from the filter, and started climbing back.
A mat on the stairs was slightly misplaced.
I put it back.
A chain stuck in my watch.
I pulled it.
A hole opened.
I was swallowed by darkness.
I woke. Phone lit. Old workshop-like place.
Heart pounding.
Felt like peeing.
Looked up — nothing but darkness.
I knew it was stupid to walk forward.
All Hollywood movies told me so.
But no choice.
I walked straight.
Saw blood.
Bloooood.
A lot.
Hands shaking.
Terrified. Rotting smell hit me.
Bodies — some moving.
Something behind me.
I turned off my torch.
Breath.
Touch.
I screamed and ran in darkness.
I screamed and ran in darkness.
Then—
My eyes opened wide.
Two men were standing in front of me.
Talking. Arguing.
I tried to move.
I couldn't.
I saw their uniforms.
Security.
They were speaking in Tajik. Fast. Angry. Confused.
I was terrified.
My hands were tied.
My mouth was stuffed with cloth.
I tried to scream again.
Nothing came out.
I started crying.
I peed my pants.
My body felt numb.
Heart about to explode.
One of the men looked at me.
His face wasn't angry
It was… sad.
He walked closer.
I tried to move back.
He blindfolded me.
Then left.
Silence.
Heavy silence.
Then—
Growls.
Surrounding me.
Close.
Very close.
Cold air touched my skin.
I felt breath near my ear.
Wet.
Hot.
Slow.
Something circled me.
I couldn't see.
But I could hear it.
Huge claws scraping the floor.
A low rumble from a chest too large to be human.
It moved again.
The ground slightly vibrated.
That's when I understood.
It was tall.
Very tall.
Its breath came from above my head.
Then it lowered.
Sniffing me.
Slow inhale.
Another one growled from the other side.
Bigger.
Heavier.
Their bodies shifted.
Massive.
Flesh dragging.
Nails clicking.
One of them let out a low choking sound.
Then—
Silence.
Complete silence.
My heart started beating fast.
Too fast.
I could hear it inside my skull.
My body started to feel numb.
My fingers shaking.
I was really… really scared.
Not movie scared.
Not nightmare scared.
Real scared.
Warm liquid ran down my leg.
I peed.
Inside, I was screaming.
But outside—
Nothing came.
Just broken breath.
Then—
A sudden WHOOSH.
Air splitting.
Something sharp.
Cold.
A heavy force.
And—
Darkness.
Bizam died in pain.
Screaming.
And then—
I woke up in the flight.
Next to the Korean lady.
I knew it.
The pain was real.
Air hostess rushed near me.
"Are you having any trouble, sir?"
Everyone around was looking at me.
I was beyond understanding.
Sweating.
Feeling like throwing up.
"I am fine… bad dream only," I said.
"Please take rest, sir," she replied.
The Korean lady then asked whether I was fine now.
"I am," I told her.
She gave me a card.
"It's a doctor's card in Dushanbe. He is a good one. I met him on my previous visit."
I nodded my head.
Then we had a little conversation.
We exchanged names, work, small things.
Similar to before.
Most of the activities followed the same.
But this time, I was the last one to leave the airport.
Some issue in my passport.
I was taken to the hostel in a truck carrying luggage.
Only me and an agency guy
Even during all this, my mind was stuck on what happened.
It was not a dream.
I definitely knew that.
But what was it…?
I always came across weird stuff.
But this…
This was different.
It has to be some secret experiment place of Russia.
Man, what am I even saying?
Because of all the movies and series
I watched, this is my conclusion?
Those guards…
Their uniforms…
"Kiddo, we reached the hostel."
"Yes, sir."
I got out
This time I noticed something.
A board on top of the entrance.
It was written:
We hope you enjoy the stay
Hostel No. – 77🌟