🟢 Part 1: The Arrival and the Hidden Room
It was the end of the monsoon when Rhythm and his family arrived at their ancestral village home. The sky looked freshly washed, glowing in soft blue and gold hues. Their car stopped in front of a large red-brick house covered with moss and age-old memories.
"This house was your grandfather's favorite place," his father said quietly.
The house felt alive. The wooden pillars of the veranda creaked softly, as if whispering forgotten stories. Rhythm felt an unusual connection to the place — as though something was waiting for him.
That night, he couldn't sleep. The sound of crickets echoed outside. Suddenly, he heard a faint noise from the corridor. Curious, he stepped out of his room and noticed a small wooden door at the end of the hallway — one he hadn't seen before.
The door was stiff but unlocked. After pushing it open, dust swirled in the air. Inside was an old wooden table covered in cobwebs. On top of it lay a brown leather diary.
His hands trembled as he opened it.
On the first page, written in fading ink:
"Whoever reads this diary will become a witness to the past."
His heart began to race.