The Whispers at Raatgaon

In a remote village called Raatgaon, hidden deep in the forested hills, locals had one rule: never step outside after midnight. They said the darkness there wasn’t just absence of light—it was alive.

Aryan, a young journalist from the city, didn’t believe in village superstitions. He arrived in Raatgaon to write a story about "irrational rural fears." The villagers warned him politely but firmly, especially about a crumbling, abandoned house at the edge of the village. No one lived there for decades, yet on some nights, people heard whispers and sobs coming from inside.

Intrigued and arrogant, Aryan set up his camera and decided to spend a night in the abandoned house. He laughed when an old woman begged him not to go.

12:03 AM.

The air was unnaturally still. The wind had stopped. Even the insects had gone quiet. Aryan sat with his flashlight, bored, waiting for something spooky. Then he heard it.

A faint whisper.

“Help me...”

He turned, expecting to see a villager playing tricks. But no one was there.

12:27 AM.

The temperature dropped suddenly. Aryan’s breath misted. The whisper returned, louder this time.

“Please... don’t leave me here...”

It came from the corner of the room, pitch black even with the flashlight. Aryan pointed the light—and saw nothing.

12:41 AM.

His camera began recording by itself. Static. Then a frame appeared: a child with hollow eyes, standing behind him. Aryan spun around. Empty.

He rushed to the door. It wouldn’t open.

The whispers turned into screams. “You came... now you’ll never leave...”

1:03 AM.

Villagers heard the screams. But no one dared go near the house. By dawn, the door creaked open by itself.

Aryan was gone. Only his camera remained, lying on the dusty floor. The last recording showed him staring into the corner, whispering back:

“She needs someone to stay... I understand now...”

No one ever entered that house again. But some nights, if you pass Raatgaon after midnight, you might hear a whisper:

“Come sit with me... just for a night...”