The Cursed Bungalow

The night was profound, and silence surrounded everything. The chilly wind rustled through the trees, producing an unsettling sound. In the center of the thick forest stood an ancient, forsaken bungalow. The villagers thought it to be cursed. Years earlier, an entire family had mysteriously died there, and since that time, no one had dared to remain in the house for long.

Rudra, a brave young man, did not believe in ghost tales. When his friends dared him, he chose to spend a night in the bungalow. He took only a flashlight and a notebook to record his experience.

Immediately after Rudra entered, a frigid shiver coursed down his back. The atmosphere was thick, laden with the acrid scent of rot. His footsteps left distinct impressions on the dust-covered floor. He carefully explored each room, verifying that the house was indeed deserted.

Suddenly, a sound emerged from the kitchen—something had dropped. He aimed his flashlight toward the noise and cautiously approached. As he reached the entrance, he spotted an old wooden table, upon which sat a clay dog figurine. But he was certain that the table had been vacant just moments ago! Who had put it there?

A chill crept up his back. He sensed that someone was watching him. Out of nowhere, a whisper resonated in the air—someone was calling his name!

Rudra spun around quickly, but there was no one. The doors and windows were all closed, so from where had the wind come? Fear began to grip him. He tried to assure himself that it was merely the wind deceiving him.

He lifted the clay figurine from the table. Just then, he heard the faint sound of a child weeping. This time, he could not keep himself composed. As he hurried toward the exit, he realized the door had closed by itself! He pushed against it with all his might, but it would not move—it felt as though it was crafted from stone.

Right behind him, a whispering voice said, "Why are you here? You have disturbed our sleep. "

Terrified, Rudra looked to see a shadowy figure of a woman. Her eyes were sunken, filled with darkness, and her face contorted into an evil grin. The air surrounding him grew icy. In a haunting voice, the apparition warned, Leave this place, or you will face the same fate as them. Rudra suddenly recalled the history of this house. A woman and her child had been killed here. Some claimed her husband was to blame, while others thought the house was cursed. Rudra pounded on the door, shouting, "Please, let me go! I don?t want to stay here! Moments later, the door creaked open. Without a second thought, Rudra dashed out of the house. As soon as he stepped outside, the air returned to normal?as if nothing had happened. The following morning, he shared everything with his friends. Some believed him, while others dismissed it with laughter. But Rudra recognized that what he had seen was real. From that day forward, no one dared to approach the bungalow again. Although his life seemed ordinary afterward, Rudra would still awaken in the middle of the night, sensing a presence beside him. A whisper would reach his ears, You will return? But the tale didn?t conclude there. A few months later, Rudra?s friend Amit, driven by curiosity, chose to visit the bungalow. Rudra attempted to discourage him, but Amit thought of himself as brave. One evening, he stood at the entrance of the bungalow. As he entered, an odd feeling overtook him?he sensed that someone was trailing him. The only noise was the crunch of dry leaves beneath his feet. The air was thick, making it difficult to breathe. Amit turned on his phone?s flashlight and noticed a large mirror in the corner of the hall. Something about his reflection appeared? strange. His mirrored self was looking back at him, grinning malevolently?though Amit was aware he wasn?t smiling. And then, terror unfolded. A sudden cold breeze brushed past him, and the doors slammed shut one by one. He turned around and spotted a woman dressed in black, her face indistinct and blurred. Without warning, she emitted a blood-curdling scream. Amit raced towards the exit, desperately tugging at the door handle, but it wouldn?t budge. Then, he felt a frigid touch on his back. Moments later, the door swung open, and Amit hurried outside, gasping for air. His body quaked, his heart racing. That night, Amit became seriously ill. In his feverish state, he kept murmuring, "They?re coming? they?re coming for me?" Since then, no one has dared to step inside the bungalow. It remains standing, cloaked in shadows, safeguarding the chilling memories within its walls.