CHAPTER 6: BLOOD AND MEMORY
293 Words
Aarav backed away from the rusted cage, every nerve screaming at him to run. But the tunnel behind him had changed. The staircase had vanished into the darkness—it was as if the passage had sealed itself, swallowed by the stone. He was trapped.
The whispers grew louder now, overlapping. Children's voices—some crying, some giggling, some murmuring broken lullabies. The names on the wall pulsed faintly, glowing red around the edges, as if still bleeding.
Then he saw it.
A mirror, half-buried in the dirt wall. It wasn’t there before. He approached, and the glass shimmered—not with his reflection, but with a scene. A memory.
He saw himself, ten years old, standing at this very same cage, his face pale, eyes wide with fear. And inside the cage was another boy. Younger. Crying. Reaching through the bars.
"Please, Aarav… don't leave me."
Aarav’s breath caught in his throat.
He remembered now. The boy’s name was Ishan—his cousin. The one no one ever spoke about. The one who vanished on that visit. His parents had told him it was a dream, a terrible confusion. They made him forget.
But the house hadn’t forgotten.
Suddenly, chains rattled. The cage door slammed shut. The voices rose in anger now—screaming, wailing. A heavy force slammed into Aarav’s back, throwing him into the dirt.
He clawed toward the trapdoor above, which had reappeared—just a pinprick of light. He climbed, gasping, as hands—tiny hands—tried to pull him back down.
With one final scream, he burst through the floor into the library, the door slamming shut behind him.
But the whispers continued.
And in the corner of the room... the stuffed rabbit sat upright again.
- Writer
