The drive out of campus began like any other night trip: streetlights humming, the occasional truck passing, and the scent of fried snacks from roadside dhabas.
But Parth noticed it first. A strange pressure in the air, like they had just passed into a room where something had died years ago and no one had opened the windows since.
"Does the air feel... heavy to you?" he asked, fingers tapping the steering wheel.
"It's called humidity, genius," Aarav mumbled from the backseat, chewing gum with theatrical boredom.
Neel, riding shotgun, leaned forward. "No. He's right. It's not normal."
Parth didn't reply. He pressed his foot slightly harder on the accelerator.
They drove past scattered trees and small villages, most of which were asleep. But as they neared the demolished temple site, the world began to feel more—vacant. Not quiet, not peaceful. Just… absent. Like something had wiped sound and soul from the air.
The local temple, once over 500 years old, had been destroyed for a highway expansion plan. No official records of deities being moved. No prasad distributed before demolition. No rituals. It had simply... been erased.
They parked near a half-built highway flyover. In the distance, under a low hill, stood the blackened outline of the old temple foundation.
"We walk from here," Parth said, hoisting his backpack.
Aarav cursed under his breath."Why is it always walking with you?"
Parth ignored him. "You said you wanted to investigate. Let's go."
1:12 a.m.
The path was muddy. Trees leaned too close to the road, as if whispering to each other about the trespassers. Their flashlights flickered sometimes, not with battery issues but like something was passing in front of them, unseen.
"EMF spike," Neel whispered, holding the reader. "It's increasing. Rapidly."
A dog howled in the distance. Then silence. Then another howl—closer, but wrong. Not a dog.
Aarav slowed. "That...sounded human."
Parth gritted his teeth. "We're almost there. Don't break formation."
They reached the ruins by 1:34 a.m.
The ground was still scorched. Bricks lay twisted, blackened. Melted. Like the temple had burned from the inside out. The air around it buzzed faintly. Their flashlight beams bent oddly near the remains—as if light itself didn't want to linger here.
Neel scanned the perimeter. "Something's not right. The EMF is—it's behaving like it does near strong currents, but there's no power lines for miles."
Parth stepped carefully over the boundary stones. As his foot touched the inner circle of the temple ruins, he stopped.
Everything went still.
No wind. No chirp. Not even their breath made sound.
Then came the whisper.
Not in their ears.
In their bones.It almost sounded too human...
"Who walks on hollow ground?"
Parth spun around. Nothing. Aarav looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"Did you... hear that?
Neel's hand trembled on the EMF reader. The screen was cracked. No data. Just static.
"It wasn't sound," Neel whispered. "It was inside me."
The ground beneath Parth cracked slightly. Not much. Just enough.
He turned his flashlight downward.
There was a hole.
Perfectly circular. About the size of a human skull.
Inside, etched on the remaining stone: a spiral.
Not painted.
Burned.
2:03 a.m.
They should've run. But they didn't.
Instead, Aarav, drawn like a moth to flame, stepped into the ruined sanctum.
"Don't," Parth warned.
Too late.
The moment Aarav crossed the circle, all their flashlights died.
The sky above them—clear moments ago—turned pitch black. No stars. No moon.
Then came the chanting.
Low. Garbled. As if underwater.
"It's Sanskrit," Neel whispered, eyes wide.
"But not Vedic. Older."
The spiral in the stone began to glow.
Red.
Then white.
Then blue.
Parth grabbed Aarav's shoulder. "Out. Now."
But Aarav was frozen. Staring at the spiral. Eyes unblinking.
Then he screamed.
His body arched backward. The veins in his arms lit up faintly—like something was traveling through them.
Parth dragged him back just as a figure rose from the center of the spiral.
Not fully formed. Just a shape.
Tall. Crooked.
Its face was... blurred.
But its eyes weren't.
They glowed red.
Then blue.
Then—black.
Neel didn't hesitate. He threw holy ash from his bag onto the spiral.
The shape shrieked, not in volume but in pain. The sound was... wrong.
It wasn't made for ears.
The ground began to shake. Not an earthquake.
A reaction.
The spiral burned shut.
The figure vanished.
Aarav collapsed, gasping.
Neel grabbed his arm. "We have to go. Now."
Parth didn't argue.
They ran.
3:11 a.m.
The car wouldn't start.
Three tries.
Four.
On the fifth, the engine roared and they sped down the highway like hunted animals.
Behind them, the hill with the ruins flickered once. Just once.
Then returned to silence.
4:27 a.m.
Back in their dorm, Aarav sat on the edge of the bed, silent.
"You okay?" Parth asked.
Aarav shook his head.
"It saw me," he whispered. "It knew me?"
Parth said nothing.
Outside their window, a crow landed on the sill.
It didn't caw.
It watched.
Like it remembered.
Like it was waiting.
🌸Author's note:🌸
If you stare at a spiral long enough, it begins to turn the other way.
Some things are not haunted. They're hungry.
And some roads don't lead back.
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