The House That Screams at Night

Prologue: The Village That Forgot How to Sleep

In a remote corner of Bangladesh, far from the noise of the cities, there lies a small village called Shonir Gaon. Serene fields, winding rivers, and chirping crickets make it seem like paradise during the day. But as the sun sinks beyond the horizon, a heavy silence descends.

In that silence, one house stands apart.

Locals call it Ghar-ta Je Chechay — The House That Screams. No one dares to pass by after sunset. And if you ask anyone why, they’ll just say:

We don’t talk about that place. Talking invites her.

Chapter 1: The Curse Beneath the Prayer Room

It began nearly thirty years ago. The house belonged to a government official, a retired colonel named Faruq Hossain, who moved there with his orphaned niece, Runa. She was a quiet girl, barely 16. Bright eyes, soft voice, and an innocence that made her the heart of the village school.

But one evening in 1995, Runa disappeared.

Her uncle claimed she ran away. But rumors whispered otherwise. Her cries were heard echoing from the walls for weeks. No one believed him. Still, without a body, there was no case. Time passed. People forgot. But the house never did.

Months later, Faruq was found hanging from the prayer room ceiling, eyes wide open, tongue purple, and a mirror shattered near his feet. Written in blood on the wall was just one word:

“Keno?” (Why?)

(The house had just begun to remember)

Chapter 2: The Boys and the Dare

Fast forward to 2023.

Four boys — Tuhin, Rafin, Junaid, and Arko — all 18, free-spirited and obsessed with urban legends, decided to do what no one in the village dared:

Spend a full night inside the haunted house.

It was Rafin’s idea, born out of boredom and arrogance.

“We’ll stream it on Facebook. Get views. Go viral. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Armed with torches, a Bluetooth speaker, and courage born of ignorance, they walked past the overgrown gate at dusk. Crows scattered. A black cat darted across the path. The house stood like a corpse — rotting, yet alive.

Chapter 3: The First Sign

The moment they stepped inside, everything changed.

Silence

Not the kind you find in peace — but the heavy, pregnant silence before a scream.

Junaid’s flashlight began to flicker. The Bluetooth speaker, though disconnected, suddenly played a lullaby in a child’s voice.

Nid ghumiye gelo pakhi ma bole dake ami

They laughed it off, claiming signal interference. But when Arko took out his phone to film, the screen cracked from the inside.

Rafin, still skeptical, climbed the staircase, mocking:

Where’s your ghost, Runa? Still sleeping?

That’s when they heard the reply.

No. I’m waiting.

The voice didn’t echo. It whispered directly into their ears.

Chapter 4: Runa Returns

As the night deepened, the air grew thick. The windows fogged from the inside. Blood-red handprints appeared on the walls. Then a scream Not loud. Not sharp. But infinite like it came from every direction, from every wall, from within their bones.

Tuhin collapsed. His eyes turned upwards, his mouth foamed, and he started scratching the floor, repeating over and over

She’s under the prayer room. SHE’S UNDER THE PRAYER ROOM!

They dragged him out of the house, breathless. But just before they crossed the gate, a woman’s figure appeared in the corridor window.

She wore a school uniform. Her hair dangled like a rope. And she had no face.

Arko screamed so hard his throat bled.

Chapter 5: The Village Truth

Tuhin didn’t speak for days. Then one night, he woke up and began drawing the house’s layout with unnatural precision marking one specific point: beneath the prayer room.

A team of local elders and police, finally pressured by the village, excavated that area.

And what they found chilled them to the soul Bones

A school badge with Runa carved into metal.

And a bloodied rosary, wrapped tightly around broken teeth.

The house had been right all along. It was screaming the truth.

Chapter 6: Shadows Follow

But peace didn’t return.

Runa’s body was finally buried at the local cemetery. The villagers held a prayer. The muezzin recited verses for hours. But that night, every mirror in the village shattered at the same time. Chickens died. Trees leaned unnaturally toward the house.

Tuhin began sleepwalking. Junaid saw a girl standing in his mirror, brushing her hair with a severed hand. Rafin began bleeding from his ears every time the azan was called.

The black cat? Still there. Sitting by the gate. Watching. Always watching.

And Arko?

He disappeared.

His mother says he went out for a walk near the house. He never came back. All that was found was his slipper soaked in blood with his phone next to it showing a blurred selfie of a girl standing behind him, smiling with hollow eyes.

Chapter 7: The House Breathes

Locals say the house is no longer abandoned. It breathes. It lives. You can hear it inhale when you stand close. The windows blink. The roof creaks like a spine adjusting itself.

And every year, on June 7, the date Runa died, a cry is heard one that echoes for hours

Please don’t leave me here again

Those who hear it report sickness, madness, or worse disappearances.

Epilogue: The Real Horror

You might think this is just another story.

But the house exists. The village is real. The screams? Documented. Ask anyone from Shonir Gaon and they’ll show you where it is.

In fact, ask the right people

And they’ll tell you what’s under the staircase now. Because Runa isn’t alone anymore. She’s waiting for you next

This story is inspired by urban legends surrounding a real location in Bangladesh. Some characters and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes.