The rain swallowed the empty road in darkness.
A man was running, drenched and breathless, as if something invisible was chasing him through the storm. In his arms, he held a small child, barely two years old, tightly.
The boy was not crying or even moving. Raindrops rolled down his tiny face, yet his expression never changed. His eyes stayed fixed on the man carrying him.
The man's breathing grew harsh.
Every few seconds, he turned to look behind him. Someone seemed close, almost close enough to touch, but when he looked, there was no one there. Only the long, wet road stretching into the dark.
Suddenly, a pair of headlights flashed in the distance.
The man froze for a second, fear flashing in his eyes. Then he turned sharply and ran in another direction. His every step screamed of panic.
Several minutes later, he stopped at the edge of the city, in front of a small, isolated house. His fists banged on the wooden door so hard that the sound rose above the storm.
Inside, a woman rushed to open it. When she saw the soaked man holding a child, her eyes widened in shock. His trembling hands and the fear in his face made her heart race.
"What happened? Who is this child?" she asked quickly.
The man caught his breath. "This boy is in danger. If something goes wrong, this boy will be a danger to the world," he said.
The woman felt her chest tighten. His voice carried a kind of fear that she could not understand. His voice sounded like a warning.
When he placed the child in her arms, the boy's fingers refused to let go for a second, clutching the man's shirt tightly. The man smiled gently at him.
"Don't be scared. I will come back. I will find a permanent solution," he said softly.
Before the woman could ask what he meant, he stepped out into the storm and vanished into the night.
She stood there, confused, leaving the door half open. After a moment, she turned toward the kitchen to find something to feed the child. She took some milk and a few slices of bread and came back to the hall.
The main door was now closed.
She frowned, unsure if she had shut it herself or if the wind had done it. Slowly, she turned toward the boy. He was staring at her, smiling quietly.
Outside, the storm had gone silent again.
Suddenly, Vikram woke up with a jolt, his heart was pounding fast. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he looked around. He was in his room. It had all been a nightmare, he told himself.
Then came a loud knock on the door. Startled, Vikram opened it. Rishi was standing there, looking tense.
"Did you see my messages? You didn't answer my calls," Rishi said.
The corridor lights flickered for a moment. Something about that flicker tugged at Vikram's memory, like a thought half remembered, but it slipped away before he could catch it.
Rishi walked in casually. "What's wrong? Didn't sleep last night? Your face looks tired."
Vikram smiled weakly. "Just couldn't sleep, that's all."
"Come on, man, get ready. You're making us late. We need to go to the common area," Rishi said.
Vikram nodded and got dressed. Together, they walked to the hostel common area.
As they stepped in, the laughter of students filled the space. The sound eased something within Vikram. For a moment, his loneliness felt lighter.
Ayaan waved from across the room. "Hey, there's a seminar today. Applied neuroscience. Our brains might explode," he said, laughing.
Sunny joined in from behind. "If they don't, that will be the real miracle." Everyone laughed together.
Soon, it was time to leave for college. None of them noticed the faint chill that followed Vikram as he walked out.
The college path was buzzing with students hurrying to their classes.
Vikram and Rishi walked side by side, their steps in rhythm, when Aarohi joined them, holding a stack of files close to her chest.
"Did you see this paper by the senior professor? It has more assumptions than logic," she said with a teasing smile at Vikram.
Vikram was lost in thought, his expression distant. He didn't answer.
"See, you're overthinking again," Aarohi said, nudging him lightly. Her playful tone brought him back, and he managed a small smile.
They entered the lecture hall together.
The class had already begun. The professor's voice filled the room.
"Ethics in biological research. Curiosity without restraint has destroyed civilizations," he said firmly.
The words hit Vikram hard. His chest tightened. There was nothing unusual about the statement, but something deep inside him reacted. Rishi noticed Vikram's blank stare but didn't say anything.
Suddenly, the projector flickered.
The slide glitched, the light blinked, then steadied again.
But in that brief second, Vikram saw something else. Bright white lights. A sterile room. The faint smell of disinfectant. A lab. And a shadow of a man whose face he couldn't see.
He blinked hard, his pulse racing. The vision vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
No one else reacted, it was as if only he had seen it.
When the lecture ended, Sunny clapped Vikram on the shoulder. "Hey Vikram, today's treat is on you. Come on, let's hit the cafeteria."
Smiling faintly, Vikram nodded and turned to Aarohi. "Aarohi, I'm giving a lunch treat today. You're coming too, right?"
She smiled. "Sure, I'll come."
The group gathered in the cafeteria, plates filled, laughter echoing through the air.
Sunny was cracking jokes again, his energy lighting up the table. Everyone laughed, enjoying the break.
Then Vikram froze. A voice echoed softly in his mind.
"Hi Vikram, how are you?"
He looked around quickly.
The others were talking, eating. No one else had heard it.
Confused, he leaned closer to Rishi. "Did you hear that? Someone just called my name."
Rishi frowned. "No, man, I didn't hear anything."
Across the table, Aarohi noticed Vikram's unsettled look.
"You've been lost in your head since morning," she said with concern. "Overthinking again. It's not good for you, Vikram. Try to relax a little."
Her voice was calm and sincere. Vikram nodded, forcing a small smile, though something cold lingered at the edge of his thoughts.
By evening, the mood had changed.
Vikram and Rishi were sitting quietly in the library. The air smelled of paper and silence.
Rishi was focused on his book, but Vikram had been staring at the same paragraph for several minutes.
The words refused to make sense. His eyes burned, his fingers trembled slightly.
Rishi looked up. "Hey, what's wrong? You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Vikram replied quickly. But he wasn't.
Just then, Aarohi walked over, holding a thick record book. "Vikram, this is our senior's lab record. It has all the experiment details. Have a look," she said, handing it to him.
Vikram opened the book.
The first page turned easily, but something written there caught his eye. His vision blurred. His head throbbed with sudden pain.
Vikram shut the book instantly, his breath unsteady.
He didn't know why, but something inside him screamed that the name he saw shouldn't have been there.
Rishi and Aarohi exchanged confused glances.
Vikram caught their looks and quickly said, "It's nothing. Just tired, I think. I'll go rest. Aarohi, I'll return this tomorrow morning."
He left the library before they could ask more.
Night came, and the rooftop was alive with soft laughter.
Sunny and Ayaan were joking about their future. "Power, influence, connections... everything will be ours one day," Sunny said, and both laughed loudly.
Vikram stood at the edge, staring into the distance. A strange sense of alertness crept over him, a feeling that something unseen was closing in.
The clock struck ten. One by one, everyone left for their rooms.
Vikram lay down on his bed.
Sleep didn't come easily. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the rain, the face of a child. Blurred, distant, but hauntingly familiar.
His heartbeat quickened for no reason.
Then silence returned. Finally, his eyes grew heavy, and he drifted off.
Midnight.
The hostel corridor was silent except for the soft echo of footsteps.
The security guard paused near Vikram's door, tilting his head as if he had heard something.
Inside, there was no sound.
The security guard stood there for a few seconds, listening, then shook his head and walked away.
Inside the room, Vikram was trapped in another dream.
Aarohi was being pulled into a car, her scream echoing in the distance. Vikram ran after it, shouting her name, his feet pounding against the road.
"Aarohi... Aarohi!" His voice broke with panic.
He ran faster, the night stretching endlessly ahead.
His body began to ache, his breath burning in his chest. The car kept moving further away. His legs gave out, and he stumbled onto the wet road. His hands scraped against the ground, but the car was already gone.
Vikram gasped and woke up, heart racing.
It took a moment for him to realize it had only been a dream. He sat up, reached for the glass of water beside his bed, and drank slowly.
His breathing steadied. Just as he set the glass down, he heard footsteps again. Real ones this time.
He opened the door carefully. The security guard stood outside, waving casually. "Hi bro," he said with a smile.
Vikram nodded back. "Hi." He shut the door again and turned toward his phone.
A notification blinked on the screen. A message from Aarohi, sent twenty minutes ago.
"Awake?"
Vikram frowned. "Why would she text me this late?" he thought. His mind flashed back to the dream. "Could she be in trouble? Should I call her?" He hesitated. "No, if she's asleep, she'll think I'm overthinking again."
He typed quickly. "Yeah Aarohi, what's up?"
He waited for a reply, watching her profile go offline a few seconds later.
He sighed and leaned back against the bed.
"Maybe she'll text in the morning," he muttered. His eyelids grew heavy again as he waited, phone still in his hand.
At some point, sleep finally claimed him.
But this time, the dream was different. The air was heavy with rain. Vikram was standing on an empty road, soaked and shivering. There was no sound, no movement, just the steady fall of rain.
Far ahead, a small child stood, watching Vikram.
The boy's face was pale, eyes expressionless.
Vikram felt his throat tighten. A wave of fear washed over him.
He tried to move, but his feet refused. He tried to shout, but his voice was gone. The boy's eyes locked with his, cold and unblinking. The world around him dimmed until everything turned black.
Then, through the darkness, another vision formed.
A house. A woman standing at the door, holding that same child. Her face was unclear, but something about her felt familiar. Vikram felt it deep inside him, as if he had seen her before.
He tried to step closer, to see her face, but the dream shattered.
Vikram jolted awake, his chest heaving, sweat covering his skin. He wiped his forehead and sat in silence, his mind racing.
"It's just a dream," he whispered to himself. "It doesn't mean anything."
But the thought didn't comfort him. Somewhere deep inside, a question began to take shape, one he couldn't ignore.
Who were the woman and the man in the storm?
And what was the connection between that child... and him?
But the real question was... what if the dream was never a dream at all?