The ground didn't shake.
It shifted.
Like something old beneath the surface had just rolled over — not to wake, but to listen.
Ayaan instinctively stepped in front of Sameer, eyes locked on the spot behind the mirror, where the dirt had sunken slightly inward.
Rehan didn't move.
He was still staring at the boy in the mirror — the version of himself too young to have brought anyone here, yet too familiar to deny.
The girl's voice broke the silence again.
"He saw something he wasn't supposed to. But he didn't tell anyone. So it came back."
Rehan swallowed hard. "What did I see?"
The girl didn't answer.
She simply turned and began to walk up the stairs.
No sound.
No goodbye.
Just a slow exit, like her work was done here.
But the tension didn't leave with her.
If anything — it deepened.
---
Sameer moved toward the mirror.
"This doesn't make sense," he said, voice low. "We were never here as kids. Were we?"
Rehan backed away now, like the image had begun to burn.
"I don't know...what I'm remembering anymore," he muttered. "But I can feel it. It's like it was just buried under everything else."
Ayaan turned toward him. "Maybe that's the point."
Rehan looked up, eyes wide.
"We weren't supposed to dig."
---
Above them, the wind shifted.
Not in the trees — in the cabin itself.
The wood creaked. The walls leaned slightly, just enough to feel off.
A small thud echoed from upstairs.
Sameer glanced at the trapdoor. "Did you leave anything open?"
Ayaan shook his head. "Nothing moved when we came in."
Another thud.
Heavier.
Then a slow dragging sound, like something being pulled across old wood.
Rehan picked up the flashlight and moved toward the stairs.
Sameer grabbed his wrist. "Wait."
Rehan looked at him — not annoyed, but hollowed.
"I need to know if the rest of this is real," he said.
Ayaan met Sameer's eyes.
Then nodded.
"We all go."
---
Back in the city…
Naira sat in the café across from her university, Sameer's phone in front of her. She hadn't told anyone she had it.
Not even the group chat.
She stared at the photo of the trapdoor again.
What haunted her wasn't the door — it was the timestamp.
Sent three hours before she'd found the phone.
She tapped back into the phone's gallery. Scanned older folders.
Hidden ones.
One file — Locked Memories — was password protected.
She bit her lip.
Then typed something on instinct.
"Confess."
The folder opened.
Only one video inside.
She hit play.
The screen shook. Low light. A narrow corridor made of stone.
Sameer's voice — panicked. Whispering.
"If someone finds this… I think we opened something. Not a curse. Not a ghost. Just… us."
He turned the camera around.
"We're the reason it woke up."
And the video ended.
---
Back in the cabin…
They reached the top.
The cabin was different now.
The photo was gone.
The chair overturned.
And the front door?
Wide open.
Outside, fog had spilled into the clearing. Thick. Heavy. Moving low like it had a mind of its own.
A faint sound came from just beyond the porch.
Something dragging.
Then the sharp snap of a twig.
Ayaan whispered, "Run or stay?"
Rehan didn't answer.
He was looking at the far wall.
The photo was back.
But now it was changed.
The third figure — the one whose face had been hidden — was no longer blurry.
It was clear.
And it wasn't a stranger.
It was Rehan.
But older.
Not eight.
Now.
---
Sameer whispered, "It's not showing us the past anymore."
Rehan nodded slowly.
"It's showing us what we'll become… if we don't stop this."
A loud crash behind them.
The trapdoor slammed shut on its own.
Then silence.
And then —
A voice from the porch.
Male. Familiar. Whisper-rough.
"Why did you bring them back, Rehan?"
All three froze.
Sameer turned first.
A man stood at the edge of the fog.
Face shadowed. Posture heavy.
But his voice...
It was Rehan's father.
---