Veer exhaled slowly, staring at the thing in the doorway. His grip tightened around the flashlight, but he didn't move.
None of them did.
Not out of fear—but out of calculation.
This wasn't something they could shoot or fight in the usual way. It wasn't a human enemy they could track or interrogate. This was something else.
Something wrong.
The stitched-mouthed figure in the doorway didn't move either. It just stood there, breathing, its eyeless sockets locked onto them.
And behind them, in the brief moment of light, they had all seen it—
The figures in the dark.
Watching. Waiting.
A lesser man would have panicked. But these four?
They were not lesser men.
Rudra tilted his head, studying the figure. "I'll be honest—I've seen some ugly bastards, but this one might take the prize."
Karan made a sound in his throat, unimpressed. "Should I be scared?" He gestured at the figure's stitched mouth. "What's it gonna do? Chew me to death through the stitches?"
Veer ignored their sarcasm, eyes scanning the surroundings. "We need to understand what we're dealing with first."
Zayan was already on it. He crouched, dragging his fingers through the dusty floor. The footprints were still there—the small ones, leading toward them.
But something was off.
The footprints… didn't come from the room.
They started halfway down the hallway.
As if whoever made them had just… appeared.
Zayan stood, brushing the dust from his fingers. "The thing in the doorway isn't what made these prints." He glanced back at the figure. "Which means there's more than one. Maybe different kinds."
Rudra's expression darkened. "Fantastic."
Veer shifted his stance. "If it's not moving, it's not attacking. That means it's either waiting for something or warning us."
Karan raised a brow. "Warning us about what?"
As if in answer, a new sound rippled through the hallway.
A deep, slow groan.
Not human. Not a whisper.
Something else was waking up.
The stitched-mouthed figure's breath hitched, its bony fingers twitching.
Zayan smirked. "Looks like even the freakshow here is scared of whatever that is."
For the first time, the thing moved.
Not toward them.
But back.
It retreated into the darkness, its grotesque fingers sliding away from the doorframe. The whispering around them grew frantic, like dozens of voices warning them all at once.
And then, in a voice not its own, the stitched-mouthed figure spoke again—
But this time, in a perfect mimic of Veer's voice.
"Do not wake her up."
Then—
The doors along the hallway all slammed shut at once.
Dust exploded into the air. The whispering stopped. The hallway fell silent.
And from below them, deep within the orphanage's foundations—
The sound came again.
Slow. Deep. Breathing.
But this time…
It wasn't a child.
It was something bigger.
For a moment, none of them spoke.
The hallway stretched before them, now deathly silent. The doors that had been knocking moments ago were all shut, as if the entire orphanage had held its breath.
But beneath them…
That sound.
Deep, slow breathing.
Something was awake.
Or worse—something was waking up.
Veer exchanged a glance with his team. No fear in their eyes, only cold, sharp calculation. They had faced monsters in the form of men, but this? This was different.
And yet, they moved forward.
Because that's what they did.
Because they were not cowards.
---
The Third Floor
The stairs creaked beneath their weight as they climbed higher. With every step, the air grew colder, pressing against their skin like unseen hands.
Halfway up, Veer stopped.
Something felt wrong.
Zayan turned. "What?"
Veer didn't answer immediately. His fingers tightened on his flashlight as he scanned the staircase. His brain caught up a second later.
The dust.
Thick, untouched. Except—
His eyes narrowed. "Look at the steps behind us."
The three of them turned.
And froze.
The dust was still undisturbed, except for their footprints.
And another set.
Bare, small footprints.
But… not behind them.
They were in front of them.
Leading up.
As if something had walked ahead of them before they even arrived.
Rudra's jaw clenched. "That's—"
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A soft sound echoed from the top of the stairs. Not knocking this time.
Footsteps.
Zayan tilted his head. "You hear that?"
Veer gave a small nod. "Yeah. And the problem is…"
Karan finished his sentence.
"There's no one up there."
Because the footsteps weren't approaching.
They were walking away.
But nothing was there.
Then—
The flashlight flickered.
And for a fraction of a second, as the beam shuddered in and out of existence—
A shadow passed across the top of the stairs.
Too fast. Too distorted.
Gone before they could even register its shape.
Then, the light died completely.
A whisper slid through the darkness, curling around them.
"She knows you're here."
---
The Third Floor Hallway
They didn't speak.
They didn't run.
Instead, they stepped onto the third floor.
The hallway stretched long and endless, the air thick with the scent of old wood, dust, and something… rotting.
Zayan muttered under his breath. "This place is designed to mess with your head."
Karan cracked his neck. "Then we don't let it."
But Veer wasn't listening. His eyes were locked on the end of the hallway.
Because at the very last door, something was waiting.
A single candle burned outside the doorway, its flame unmoving, as if even the air here was holding its breath.
And beside it—
A small girl's shoe.
Old, covered in dust. But worse than that…
There was still a foot inside it.
A severed, rotting foot.
The skin was shriveled, the nails broken. The ankle—twisted unnaturally, as if something had ripped the rest of the body away and left only this.
Rudra exhaled sharply. "That's messed up."
Then—
The candle flickered.
Not because of wind.
Because someone exhaled on it.
Right beside them.
The breath was warm. Rotten.
But they were alone.
And then—
A small hand grabbed Veer's wrist.
Not from beside him.
Not from behind.
From above.
He snapped his head up.
And there—hanging upside down from the ceiling—was a girl.
But her neck was snapped completely backward.
Her mouth stretched into a too-wide smile. And from her open lips—
A deep, guttural voice whispered—
"I found you."