The corridor carried a different scent at night.
Arjun noticed it the instant the elevator doors slid closed behind him.
A moist, metallic aroma—like rust blended with aged incense—lingered in the air. The weak flicker of the lights stretched his shadow down the narrow hallway.
Room 13 stood at the far end.
The door appeared normal now.
Too normal.
No scratches.
No cracks.
No trace of the fierce knocking from the night before.
Arjun swallowed hard. Maybe it was just his imagination, he told himself.
But then—
Knock.
Soft. Slow. Deliberate.
His heart skipped a beat.
The sound wasn't coming from outside the room.
It came from within.
Arjun instinctively stepped back. The knocking ceased. Silence pressed so heavily against his ears it seemed deafening.
"Hello?" His voice wavered despite his attempt at steadiness.
No answer.
He summoned his courage, reached for the handle—and stopped.
The door handle was warm.
Not warmed by the sun.
Not warmed by a person.
It felt like something alive had just released it.
Arjun jerked his hand away. His breaths came faster. This wasn't normal. This place wasn't normal.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed nearby.
He spun around.
Mr. D'Souza, the elderly night guard, stood close to the staircase, gripping a torch. His face looked paler than usual, his eyes sunken, as if sleep had long abandoned him.
"You shouldn't be here after midnight," the guard said softly.
Arjun hesitated. "Sir... what's inside Room 13?"
The old man tightened his hold on the torch.
"There is no Room 13," he answered.
A chill crept up Arjun's spine. "But I live here. You gave me the keys."
Mr. D'Souza shook his head slowly. "Beta... this floor ends at Room 12."
The lights flickered violently.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
This time, louder.
The noise came from behind Arjun.
From the door.
The guard's face turned pale. "It's begun again," he whispered.
"Begun what?" Arjun asked.
The knocking picked up speed. More furious.
Mr. D'Souza stepped back. "Whatever you do," he urged, "don't open that door—"
The knocking stopped suddenly.
Silence.
Then a voice came.
Low. Dry.
As if unused for years.
"Arjun..."
His name.
The guard fled.
Arjun stood frozen, eyes locked on Room 13's door as a thin crack appeared between the door and its frame.
The door was opening—
From the inside.