It was Sunday, 7:30 AM. The head chef and several kitchen staff arrived at the hostel and began their morning routine. By 9:00 AM, one of the cooks noticed something unusual.
"What's going on? Those boys from Room No. 7 aren't awake yet?" he wondered aloud.
One of the female cooks replied, "Who knows how much they sleep... it's strange."
The chef muttered, "It’s getting late. What kind of deep sleep is this?"
Time slipped away, and soon it was 11:00 AM. One of the women grew truly worried. "Brother, all the other boys are up and moving. Why haven't the boys from Room No. 7 come out yet?"
Another cook whispered, "Is there actually anyone really inside that room right now?"
Hearing this, the head chef stood up, troubled. "Still not awake?" he thought, walking toward the room with fast, heavy steps.
He reached the door and knocked. He knocked again, and then again. No response.
"Who’s in there? Open up!" he shouted, banging on the wood. Silence.
"Darshan? Chandu? Open the door, guys! How much longer are you going to sleep?" he yelled. "It’s 11 o’clock! Get up!"
By now, the other kitchen staff and a few hostel students had gathered, watching with growing unease. The head chef felt a chill down his spine. "Something is not right here," he sensed.
He threw his shoulder against the door. "Chandu! Darshan!" he roared, slamming himself against the wood. The students looked at each other in shock. "What happened to them? Why isn't the door opening?" they whispered.
With one final, violent shove, the door gave way and swung open. The chef rushed in, followed closely by the boys. Inside, the chef saw them. But the moment his eyes fell upon them, he froze. Fear and absolute shock gripped everyone.
There lay Darshan and Chandu, still in their sleeping positions. But their eyes... their eyes had turned completely, hauntingly white.
The warden arrived immediately. An ambulance was called, and the boys were rushed to the nearby district hospital.
Chandu and Darshan’s parents arrived at the hospital shortly after, their faces etched with panic. The boys were already being treated, but the parents were too distraught to even comprehend the situation. They were in no state to process the gravity of what was happening.
Meanwhile, Arun Vijay, a police officer from the city, arrived to investigate. He approached Dr. Meera to find out the truth.
Arun Vijay: "Meera, can you tell me what’s actually going on here?"
Dr. Meera: "To be honest, Sir... I don't even know how to explain this to you."
Arun Vijay: "What do you mean?"
Dr. Meera: "If it were Sleep Paralysis, we could treat it. But it’s not that. If I were to say they are in a coma... well, this doesn’t match the symptoms of a coma at all!"
Arun: (Confused) "Then what kind of problem is this?"
Dr. Meera: "I don't know, Sir! I can't predict this. We just can’t figure out what happened to them. Usually, if someone is in a coma, the brain is unconscious. But that’s not the case here. Their brains and all other body parts are functioning perfectly—they are completely healthy! I’m at a total loss for words, Sir."
Arun was stunned. The medical report made no sense.
Dr. Meera continued: "I would even wonder if this was some kind of black magic... but I can't even say that for sure. This is literally new! I have no idea what has happened to those two boys."
Hearing this, Arun felt a sharp spark of interest. This wasn't just a medical case anymore—it was a mystery that defied logic.
Arun headed to the hostel to question the warden and the kitchen staff.
"Nothing like this has ever happened here before, Sir," the warden said, his voice trembling. "This is the first time such a bitter incident has occurred within these walls."
Arun entered Room No. 7, the very room where Darshan and Chandu were found. He conducted a thorough search, hoping to find a shred of evidence—a note, a substance, or any sign of a struggle. However, he found nothing out of the ordinary. The room was chillingly normal.
Next, Arun spoke with the head chef.
Arun: "Has anything strange like this happened in this hostel in the past?"
Head Chef: (With a nervous, forced smile) "Certainly, this is the first time for such an incident, Sir. But... about six years ago, there was a boy named Narendra. He committed suicide unexpectedly while staying here. Sometimes, I can't help but feel that maybe his spirit is still lingering here."
Arun: "Look, Sir, there are no 'evil spirits' at work here. Such things don't exist in this world. Is there anything else you noticed?"
Head Chef: "No, Sir."
Arun: "But I can tell you one thing—something definitely happened in that room, something more than what you've told me. I need to crack this. Well, thank you."
Head Chef: "Alright, Sir."
Arun: "If you remember anything else, inform me immediately."
Head Chef: "Definitely, Sir!"
With that, Arun left the hostel. That night, sitting alone in his room, the voices of the day echoed in his head.
"It is literally new! I can't predict this!"
"Could it be black magic?"
"Maybe it's that boy’s spirit, Sir..."
Arun stared at his notes. "This case is incredibly strange," he muttered to himself. "Instead of following the laws of science, it's leaning toward paranormal facts. What actually happened to those boys? I have to crack it!"
He began gathering every piece of evidence and started pinning them to a board, creating a complex roadmap of the mystery.
To be continued....!!
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