When Aman shifted to the new apartment, he didn't expect anything unusual.
It was on the third floor of an old building at the edge of the city. The walls were slightly cracked, the paint was peeling, and the corridor lights flickered sometimes—but the rent was cheap, and his parents were happy.
Aman wasn't.
From the very first day, he felt something… off.
Not dangerous. Not exactly.
Just… watched.
The Window
His room was small but comfortable. A bed near the wall, a study table, and one large window facing the back side of the building.
Behind the building, there was nothing.
No streetlights. No houses. Just darkness and a few tall, silent trees.
The first night passed normally.
The second night didn't.
At exactly 2:00 AM, Aman woke up suddenly.
He didn't know why.
The room was cold.
Too cold.
Then he heard it—
Creaaaak…
He turned slowly.
The window.
It was opening… on its own.
First Fear
Aman sat up, his heartbeat loud in his ears.
"Maybe it's the wind," he whispered to himself.
But something felt wrong.
There was no sound of wind outside.
No rustling leaves.
Nothing.
Just silence.
The window stopped halfway open.
And then—
Nothing happened.
After a few minutes, Aman forced himself to get up and close it.
As he reached the window, he felt something strange.
The air outside wasn't just cold…
It felt… empty.
Like there was nothing beyond it.
He shut the window tightly and went back to bed.
But he didn't sleep.
The Whisper
The next night, Aman tried to ignore it.
He stayed awake, staring at the clock.
1:59 AM.
His breath slowed.
2:00 AM.
Creaaaak…
The window began to open again.
This time, he didn't move.
He just watched.
And then—
He heard it.
A faint whisper.
"Let me in…"
Aman froze.
His body refused to move.
The whisper came again, slightly louder.
"Let… me… in…"
It didn't sound human.
It sounded like multiple voices… speaking at once.
No One Believes Him
The next morning, Aman told his parents everything.
They laughed.
"It's just your imagination," his mother said.
"Old buildings make noises," his father added.
"But I heard it!" Aman insisted. "It was talking!"
"No ghost is coming through a window," his father said firmly.
Aman stayed quiet after that.
But he knew what he heard.
The Third Night
That night, Aman decided to lock the window.
He checked it twice.
Then three times.
It was sealed tightly.
He went to bed, nervous.
1:59 AM.
2:00 AM.
Silence.
Aman sighed in relief.
Then suddenly—
THUD.
The window shook violently.
Again.
THUD.
Like something was hitting it from outside.
Aman jumped up.
The window rattled again, harder this time.
THUD! THUD!
Then… silence.
Aman slowly walked toward it.
His hands were shaking.
He leaned closer.
And then—
A soft voice came from the other side.
"Why… won't… you… open?"
The Hand
Aman stepped back.
"No…" he whispered.
The glass fogged up… from the outside.
Then slowly…
A shape appeared.
A hand.
Pressed against the window.
But something was wrong.
The fingers were too long.
Too thin.
And they bent in strange directions.
Aman screamed.
The hand dragged down the glass slowly, leaving marks behind.
Then it disappeared.
The Marks
The next morning, Aman refused to go near the window.
But his parents noticed something.
"What is this?" his mother said.
Aman looked.
On the outside of the glass—
Fingerprints.
Long, stretched, unnatural.
And clearly visible.
His father frowned.
"How did someone reach here? We're on the third floor."
No one had an answer.
The Past of the House
That evening, Aman decided to ask the building watchman.
"Uncle, has anything strange happened here before?"
The old watchman looked at him carefully.
Then he said slowly,
"Which room?"
Aman told him.
The watchman went silent.
Then he sighed.
"Before you… a girl lived there."
Aman felt cold.
"What happened to her?"
"She used to say… someone called her from the window every night."
Aman's hands tightened.
"And then?"
"One night… she opened it."
The watchman's voice dropped.
"And after that… she was gone."
The Final Night
That night, Aman didn't sleep at all.
He sat on his bed, staring at the window.
He wasn't scared anymore.
He was angry.
"I won't open it," he said aloud.
2:00 AM.
The window shook violently.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
Then came the whisper—
Now louder.
Angrier.
"LET… ME… IN…"
Aman covered his ears.
But the voice didn't stop.
It was inside his head now.
"YOU… OPENED… BEFORE…"
Aman froze.
"I didn't!" he shouted.
The whisper laughed.
A cold, broken sound.
"YOU… WILL…"
Suddenly—
The lock on the window clicked.
By itself.
Aman stared in horror.
The window slowly began to open.
The Choice
Aman ran forward and grabbed the window.
"No!" he shouted.
He tried to shut it.
But something from outside pushed back.
Hard.
Stronger than him.
The gap widened.
Darkness spilled into the room.
Not normal darkness.
A moving, breathing shadow.
Then—
A face appeared.
Not clear.
Just a shape.
Eyes… too deep.
Mouth… stretched unnaturally.
"Come… closer…" it whispered.
Aman's body felt heavy.
Like something was pulling him forward.
His hand slowly moved toward the window.
He couldn't stop it.
He was being controlled.
The Escape
At the last moment—
Aman screamed and stepped back with all his strength.
He slammed the window shut.
With a loud bang.
The whisper turned into a scream.
A terrible, echoing scream.
Then silence.
The Next Morning
The next day, Aman's family moved out.
Immediately.
No arguments.
No delay.
Even his father didn't question it anymore.
As they were leaving, Aman looked up at the window one last time.
It was closed.
Still.
Silent.
But for a moment…
He thought he saw something move behind it.
The End… or Not?
A week later, a new family moved into that apartment.
Their young son got the same room.
That night, at exactly 2:00 AM—
Creaaaak…
The window slowly opened.
And a whisper came through the darkness—
"Let me in…" 👻