The Cursed Blue House

It was nearly 11 PM. Rahul walked alone along a quiet village path. The only sound breaking the silence was the chirping of crickets. Everything looked mysterious under the silver glow of the moon.

Rahul had come to the village from the city for some urgent work. But ever since he arrived, everyone had been warning him about one thing—the Blue House.

At the edge of the village stood a ruined, old house. Its faded walls still held traces of pale blue paint. According to local legend, those who entered the house were never seen again.

Rahul didn’t believe in such stories. Instead, his curiosity grew stronger. He decided he would go see the place for himself.

As Rahul stood before the Blue House, a chill breeze began to blow. He felt a strange sensation crawl down his spine.

Slowly, he placed his hand on the door. The moment he pushed it, the door creaked open on its own! Startled, Rahul hesitated—but then stepped inside.

The room was filled with dust, and broken furniture lay scattered across the floor. Shadows flickered on the walls, as if something was moving. Suddenly, a whisper echoed in his ears—

“Why are you here?”

Rahul spun around—no one was there. A foul stench filled the air, like the smell of burnt flesh.

Trying to stay calm, he took a few steps further in. That’s when he felt something cold brush against his foot. Looking down, he saw a rotten, severed hand!

His throat tightened. As he turned to run, a scream pierced the silence—

“Why have you come into my house? Now you too shall never leave!”

Terrified, Rahul rushed toward the door—but it had slammed shut, as if sealed by magic.

Suddenly, a dark, shapeless figure began to emerge from the shadows. It had no face—just two deep, hollow pits where eyes should be.

Rahul opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. The figure crept closer… and that night, Rahul was never seen again.

The next morning, villagers found the Blue House’s door slightly ajar, and a single smoldering handprint burned into the ground.

From that day on, no one dared to go near the house. Because on some nights, a terrified young voice could be heard whispering—

“Let me go… please, let me out…”

When villagers gathered near the house looking for Rahul, they were met with an eerie gust of wind. No one dared enter. They just stood at a distance, staring.

Then, the village elder, Haradhan Uncle, began to speak softly—

“Has anyone ever told you the story of this house?”

Everyone shook their heads. His voice trembled.

“Long ago, a family lived here—Brindaban Babu, his wife, a son, and a daughter. Life was peaceful... until one night, everything changed.”

The villagers whispered that Brindaban Babu’s youngest daughter, Konika, once saw something strange inside the house. She tried to tell her mother, but that very night, she vanished.

They searched all night but found nothing. The next morning, in the courtyard, they discovered a blackened burn mark and strange symbols etched into the ground—symbols in an unknown language.

After that, the family experienced a series of terrifying events:

Whispers in the night

Moving shadows

Doors creaking on their own

The sound of someone sobbing

Brindaban Babu didn’t believe any of it—until one night.

He was awakened by his wife’s scream. Rushing to her, he found her collapsed on the floor, surrounded by swirling shadows. Deep, dark marks circled her neck, as if someone had gripped it tightly.

That night, he lost his wife.

Soon after, he left the house with his son and never returned.

But the Blue House never remained empty...

Even now, someone—or something—moves inside it at night. Whispers float through the darkness, and anyone who gets too close... never comes back.

The crowd stood silent as Haradhan Uncle finished the tale. No one dared even glance toward the house.

But just then, a faint whisper came from within—

“Let me out… I’m still trapped in here…”

A cold shiver ran down everyone’s spine.

Ramesh, the bravest young man in the village, stepped forward with a stick. Slowly, he approached the door.

Just as he reached to push it open, a burst of black smoke surged out in front of him! In the smoke, a vague figure appeared—its eyes hollow, empty, and filled with darkness.

Ramesh screamed and fell back in horror. And then, from inside the house, came Rahul’s desperate voice—

“Please… help me…”

The villagers recoiled in fear. No one could tell—was Rahul truly alive? Or had he become another cursed soul bound to the Blue House?

Would anyone dare enter to save him? Or would he be lost forever in the darkness?