Ssshhhh…Koi Hai – Episode: The Black Cat

On the outskirts of a sleepy town stood an old mansion, abandoned for decades, with peeling paint, shattered windows, and a garden overtaken by weeds. Locals whispered tales of its haunted past—strange cries at night, sudden cold drafts in the air, and a shadowy figure glimpsed through the broken windows. No one dared to enter, except for Ravi, a young journalist always eager for a chilling story.

Ravi had heard about the mansion from an elderly neighbor, who insisted, “Stay away from that house. At night, you can hear whispers… and see the black cat.” Curious and unafraid, Ravi decided to investigate. He equipped himself with a flashlight, a notebook, and a camera, determined to capture evidence of the supernatural.

As he approached the mansion, an eerie silence blanketed the area. The wind rustled through dead leaves, sounding almost like faint footsteps. Then, he saw it—a black cat with piercing yellow eyes sitting atop the crumbling gate. It stared at him, unblinking, before disappearing into the shadows. Ravi hesitated but pressed on, stepping through the gate with a mixture of excitement and unease.

Inside, the mansion was a labyrinth of dust-covered furniture, torn curtains, and cobwebbed chandeliers. Each step he took seemed louder than the last, echoing down empty hallways. Ravi’s flashlight flickered, and for a brief moment, he swore he saw a figure standing at the end of the corridor—a woman in tattered white clothing, her face obscured by her long black hair. When he blinked, she was gone.

He moved deeper into the mansion, discovering a room that looked like a children’s nursery. Broken dolls lay scattered on the floor, their glass eyes staring into nothingness. On a small table in the corner sat a single, pristine doll, unlike the others. It seemed to be smiling at him. As he stepped closer, he felt a chill sweep through the room. Suddenly, the doll’s head turned slightly, as if acknowledging his presence. Ravi’s heart raced, but he reminded himself it was only his imagination.

Then came the whisper—a soft, almost inaudible voice calling his name. “Ravi…” It came from the direction of the staircase. Summoning all his courage, he followed it up to the second floor, where the air grew colder with every step. The black cat appeared again, perched silently on the railing, its eyes gleaming in the darkness. It seemed to be guiding him toward a large door at the end of the corridor.

Inside, the room was different. The walls were lined with mirrors, reflecting distorted versions of himself. And in the center of the room sat a rocking chair, moving slowly back and forth, though no one was in it. The whispers grew louder, forming words now. “Leave… before it’s too late…” But before Ravi could react, the room plunged into darkness.

When the light returned, he saw her—the woman from the corridor—standing by the rocking chair, her face pale and hollow, her eyes dark voids. The black cat jumped onto her shoulder, letting out a low, menacing hiss. “Why have you come here?” she whispered, her voice echoing unnaturally. Ravi stammered, “I… I wanted to understand… the story… the house…”

She shook her head slowly. “Some stories are not meant to be understood… only feared.” The doll on the table moved again, this time walking toward him with tiny, deliberate steps. The mirrors reflected not Ravi, but countless other figures trapped in their glass prisons, silently screaming. Panic surged through him. He turned to flee, but the door slammed shut. The black cat blocked his path, its eyes glowing like molten gold.

In an instant, Ravi felt himself being pulled backward, as though invisible hands were dragging him into the darkness. The last thing he saw was the woman’s hollow gaze and the black cat’s smirk before everything went black.

Hours later, the elderly neighbor noticed the gate swinging open. She looked inside and saw the abandoned mansion as always—but there was no sign of Ravi. Only a black cat sitting calmly atop the railing, staring directly at the neighbor with unblinking eyes.

From that day, the mansion became more notorious. Locals now whispered not only about the black cat but also about the new figure trapped in the mirrors, forever part of the house’s haunting tale. And those brave—or foolish—enough to enter never returned without carrying the chill of fear in their hearts.

Some stories are better left untold… some shadows are better left unseen… and some cats are better left uncrossed.