The House That Copies You

Far away from the busy city, hidden between silent mountains and thick trees, stood an abandoned mansion no one dared to visit after sunset. The locals never spoke about it openly. When they did, their voices dropped to whispers. They said the house was not empty. It watched. It listened. And most terrifying of all, it remembered people.

They called it the house that copies you.

Four college friends didn’t believe such stories.

Ayaan, Zain, Hamza, and Sara had just finished their final exams. Freedom filled them with excitement, and boredom pushed them toward danger. When Zain suggested spending a night in the abandoned mansion, it sounded thrilling rather than frightening.

“Ghost stories are for kids,” Hamza laughed.

Sara felt uneasy. “People disappear there,” she said quietly.

Ayaan smiled confidently. “We’ll be careful. We’ll be together.”

That night, at exactly 11:00 PM, they reached the mansion. The air felt heavier near it, colder than the rest of the forest. As they stood before the large wooden door, it slowly opened by itself, creaking like it hadn’t moved in years.

They exchanged nervous looks and stepped inside.

The door slammed shut behind them.

The sound echoed through the mansion, sealing them in. Darkness surrounded them until Ayaan switched on his torch. The hallway was long and narrow. Old portraits covered the walls, but every face had been scratched out. The eyes were missing, as if someone didn’t want to be seen.

“Why would anyone do that?” Sara whispered.

No one answered.

As they walked deeper inside, their footsteps echoed strangely, sometimes sounding like more than four people were walking. A faint noise came from upstairs — slow footsteps, careful and steady.

Someone was already there.

They climbed the stairs with racing hearts. At the end of a long corridor stood a single door. Written across it in red letters were the words:

DO NOT OPEN THIS ROOM

Zain tried to joke, but his voice shook. “That’s never a good sign.”

Before fear could stop him, he reached out and opened the door.

A sudden blast of icy air rushed out. Their torches flickered. Inside the room was a single wooden chair. Someone was sitting on it, completely still.

The figure slowly stood up.

“Welcome,” it said calmly. “I’ve been waiting.”

Sara screamed.

The light fell on the figure’s face, and all color drained from their faces. The person standing before them looked exactly like Ayaan. Same face. Same body. Same voice.

Ayaan stumbled backward. “That’s not me,” he whispered.

The copy smiled — a slow, unnatural smile. “It is you,” it replied. “Just not the original.”

The walls began to shake. A low whisper filled the room, coming from everywhere at once.

“One must stay.”

The copy explained the truth. The house was alive. Anyone who entered left behind a reflection of themselves. One version stayed trapped inside forever, while the other was allowed to leave. Over time, the copies learned how to act human. They waited for the perfect moment to escape.

“And the real person?” Sara asked, trembling.

The copy looked at Ayaan. “They become part of the house.”

The door behind them creaked open slightly. Light appeared for a few seconds.

“Only three may leave,” the whisper said.

Ayaan understood immediately.

He looked at his friends — terrified, shaking, alive. “Go,” he said softly.

“No,” Sara cried. “We won’t leave you.”

But Ayaan pushed them toward the door. “If you stay, the house wins.”

As they crossed the corridor, the door slammed shut behind them. The mansion went silent.

Morning sunlight woke Sara, Zain, and Hamza outside the mansion. Birds were singing. The house stood still and empty, as if nothing had happened. They searched for Ayaan, calling his name, but there was no answer.

They left, broken and silent.

Life slowly returned to normal, but something felt wrong. Ayaan was back with them — talking, laughing, smiling. Yet Sara noticed small changes. His smile lasted too long. His eyes felt empty.

One night, Sara woke up at exactly 3:00 AM. Ayaan was standing beside her bed, staring down at her.

“You shouldn’t have gone to that house,” he whispered.

In that moment, Sara understood the truth.

Ayaan never escaped.

The house did.