Arjun didn't sleep that night.
He kept the lights on.
Every sound felt louder than it should be.
The fan kept moving.
Slow.
Creeeak.
Creeeak.
At 2:43 A.M., the lights flickered once.
Twice.
Then darkness.
His phone flashlight turned on instantly.
His breathing became heavy.
"Relax… power cut," he whispered.
But the corridor outside was still lit.
Light was coming from under the door.
Only his room was dark.
Then he heard it.
A soft dragging sound.
From under the second bed.
Slow.
Like nails scratching the floor.
Arjun slowly bent down.
His hands shaking.
He lowered the flashlight.
Nothing.
Just darkness.
Then—
A pale hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.
Ice cold.
Not human cold.
Dead cold.
Arjun screamed and pulled back.
The hand disappeared instantly.
The bed was empty.
Completely empty.
No one.
No space for someone to hide.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
He stared at the screen.
3:00 A.M.
He answered.
Silence.
Then a voice.
Weak. Broken.
"Did they give you my bed?"
Arjun's throat went dry.
"Who is this?"
The voice whispered:
"My name is Ritam."
The call ended.
Ritam.
The name echoed in his head.
He rushed to the wall.
The words "I am still here" were gone.
Now something new was written.
"Ritam 2021"
The letters looked scratched.
Not written.
Scratched.
As if carved by fingernails.
Arjun suddenly remembered.
During admission, one senior had mentioned something.
A student disappeared during lockdown.
No CCTV footage.
No suicide note.
No body found.
Only one thing left behind.
His phone.
Found inside the locked room.
Room 217.
The cupboard door creaked open slowly.
Arjun didn't touch it.
Inside—
He saw a notebook.
Old.
Dusty.
He stepped closer.
On the first page, written in messy handwriting:
"If you are reading this, I couldn't leave."
Arjun's heart pounded.
He turned the page.
The writing became unstable.
"They don't let you leave after 3 A.M."
Another page.
"The mirror is not a mirror."
Another page.
"I tried breaking the door. It doesn't open from inside after midnight."
Suddenly—
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Three slow knocks.
From inside the cupboard.
Arjun froze.
The notebook fell from his hands.
The knocking became louder.
More desperate.
"Help me," a voice whispered from inside.
But the cupboard was too small for a person.
It was impossible.
Impossible.
The lights came back on.
Everything stopped.
The cupboard was closed.
Silent.
Normal.
As if nothing happened.
Arjun slowly stepped backward.
He hit something behind him.
He turned.
The mirror.
But the reflection…
Wasn't copying him.
The reflection was smiling.
Wide.
Too wide.
And behind the reflection—
Someone was standing.
Watching him.
And then the reflection spoke.
"You opened the door."