Mysterious Hostel Horror

In 2014, a boy named Ahmad started his B.Tech at Elson University, one of the largest universities with a sprawling campus. The campus boasted all modern facilities, including a picturesque cricket ground. Beyond the cricket ground lay a railway track, separated by what students called the "Barrier Wall." Ahmad quickly made friends at the university: Rohan, Azaan, Suhan, Ahmad, and the lively Gurjeet, whom everyone fondly called "Paji."

Their days were typical—attending classes, playing volleyball in the evening, and working out at the campus gym. Life was normal, almost routine, until one late night, something shifted.

It was around 11:30 PM when the group sat together, talking, as young boys do, about random topics. Eventually, the conversation turned into horror stories. They laughed and teased each other, trying to spook one another, when suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Suhan opened it, and there stood Nikhil, a senior, looking disheveled and asking for a cigarette. After declining, the boys mentioned they were talking about spooky things. With a chuckle, Nikhil warned them, "Be careful. Every year, a student dies here under mysterious circumstances. Last year, someone fell from the 8th floor, and before that, someone was crushed under the basketball court. Accident or murder? No one knows."

The atmosphere thickened with dread, but Gurjeet, always the joker, lightened the mood, saying, "Zindagi hai yaar, aaj mar lo ya kal, kya fark padta hai?" They laughed, though uneasily, and Nikhil left. But something sinister had already begun to take root in their minds.

June 14, 2014

Forty-five days had passed since that eerie night, and life seemed to have returned to normal. One evening, a group of seniors, visibly drunk, warned the boys to stay indoors. Everyone retreated to their rooms, but the unease lingered.

Around 2:35 AM, Ahmad heard a woman's voice outside his window, whispering in desperation, "Bachoo... bachoo, mujhe jaane do. Maine tumhara kya bigada hai? Mujhe chhod do... please..."

Startled, he dismissed it, thinking it was a prank or a senior playing tricks. He put on his earphones, cranked up the volume, and resumed playing his game. But deep down, he felt unsettled. He eventually went to check outside, but found no one. The corridors were empty. Confused, he shrugged it off and went back to sleep.

The Next Morning

At 10 AM, there was a frantic knock on Ahmad's door. He opened it to find Rohan and Suhan crying, clinging to him. "Bhai, tu zinda hai!" they sobbed.

"What happened?" Ahmad asked, bewildered.

Suhan stammered, "Woh... woh... she came... the one we always talk about. She was at the window behind our bed. We saw her, but before we could react, she grabbed us by the throat. We couldn't breathe... we tried to run, but she didn't let go. Rohan even slipped and hurt his leg trying to escape. We barely made it. We called Nikhil bhaiya... he stayed with us the whole night."

Ahmad, still in disbelief, dismissed their claims as a figment of their imagination. "You're just paranoid. We talk about horror so much that it's messing with your head," he said and left to freshen up. But the seed of fear had been planted, and it was growing.

That Night

As night fell again, Ahmad and Rahil shared a room. Despite their attempts to rationalize the situation, they couldn't shake off the lingering fear. "Kya pata, sach mein kuch ho jaye," Rahil muttered.

"Main nahi maanta, but it's messing with my head," Ahmad admitted. So, the two of them, along with their friend Sahil, decided to stay in the same room. The room had red curtains, and all night, they found themselves staring at the window, terrified at the slightest sound.

For three days straight, they couldn't sleep, always on edge, but no further incidents occurred. They began to convince themselves it was all just paranoia.

June 18, 2014

Ahmad finally slept alone in his room. But the nagging feeling that something was wrong wouldn't leave him. Just before he went to bed, he slid a small cutter under his pillow—just in case.

Around 2 AM, he felt a presence by the window, hidden behind those crimson curtains. Gripped by fear, he grabbed the cutter and yelled, "Bahar aaja! Kaun ho tum?!" In his panic, he accidentally cut his own hand. He quickly turned on the lights, but no one was there—only his blood dripping onto the floor. Ahmad bandaged himself and tried to shake off the dread that had been clinging to him.

June 21, 2014

This night, however, was different.

The silence of the hostel was shattered by a blood-curdling scream. Everyone rushed out of their rooms. Ahmad and the others ran towards Suhan and Rohan's room, only to find Rohan lying lifeless on the floor, while Suhan sobbed uncontrollably.

Someone checked Rohan's pulse. "He's gone..." they whispered, horror-struck.

The next day, it was revealed that Rohan had died from an electric shock while charging his phone. But Ahmad couldn't shake the feeling that something far more sinister was at play. His thoughts kept drifting back to the mysterious rubber band he had noticed in the photo of Rohan's body—an elegant, handmade hair tie that certainly didn't belong to any of them.

The Truth Unravels

Unable to ignore the eerie connection, Ahmad began investigating. He approached a local hairdresser near the university, who told him about a girl, Rohi, who used to work at a tea stall nearby. Five years ago, she had mysteriously disappeared, only for her body to be found near the railway tracks, supposedly killed in a train accident. But rumors had always swirled about something far more sinister—a story the university had buried deep.

Ahmad dug deeper and discovered that every year on June 21, a student had mysteriously died. He realized the rubber band he had found was Rohi's, and her spirit was seeking vengeance.

Determined to bring justice, Ahmad and his friends pooled their money to hire a lawyer. Slowly, the truth emerged—Rohi had been kidnapped, raped for six days, and then thrown onto the tracks by a group of students who had long since left the university. The university, in a bid to protect its reputation, had covered up the crime, paying off the police to falsify the report.

But Rohi's spirit wouldn't rest. Every year, she returned, targeting students who lingered near the site of her death.

The Final Confrontation

As the university students protested for justice, the administration reluctantly allowed a local priest to conduct a ritual to communicate with Rohi's spirit. The priest, alongside Rohi's grandmother, called upon her. When Rohi appeared, she was filled with rage, her ghostly form wreaking havoc on anyone who had a hand in covering up the crime.

Her grandmother pleaded, "Rohi, meri beti, kya hua tha tumhare saath? Batao!"

Rohi, her voice echoing with sorrow and fury, recounted the horrific events—how she had been taken, violated, and left to die. The priest asked, "Why do you kill the innocent?"

"I don't harm the innocent," Rohi replied. "I seek those whose hearts are dark, those who harbor evil intent, just as those nine did to me."

With the ritual complete, the names of the perpetrators were revealed, and they were finally arrested, bringing closure to a crime that had haunted the university for years.

But the legend of Rohi lived on—a reminder of the price of silence, and the power of justice, even from beyond the grave.