Whisper in the dark

Chapter 18

The dim light from the desk lamp cast long, eerie shadows on the walls of Raghav's office. Ananya sat across from him, her mind racing as she turned the worn pages of the old journal they had found in the hidden room. Each entry was filled with cryptic notes, scrawled hurriedly by someone clearly panicked, but what struck her most was the way they ended so abruptly, as if the writer had no time left to finish.

Raghav sat silently, his brows furrowed in concentration. His face was still pale from the revelations they had unearthed about his family's hotel and the notorious businessman Arun Malhotra. The chilling discoveries of past murders and corruption clung to the air between them like a cold, heavy fog.

Ananya hesitated before speaking, her fingers gently running over the journal's frayed edges. The weight of everything they had learned, coupled with the memories she had tried to suppress for so long, suddenly felt overwhelming. She hadn’t told Raghav the real reason she had come to the hotel—not yet. But now, with the truth of the hotel’s dark history staring them in the face, she felt it was time to let him in.

“Raghav,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “there’s something I haven’t told you.”

Raghav looked up from the journal, his gaze steady. There was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, a gentleness that made it easier for her to open up.

“Why did you really come here, Ananya?” he asked quietly.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “It wasn’t just curiosity that brought me here. It was my fiancé—ARaj. He…he died here, in this hotel, two years ago.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Raghav’s expression shifted from confusion to shock, then to something deeper—empathy.

“He died here?” he echoed, his voice filled with disbelief. “In the hotel?”

Ananya nodded, her throat tightening as she recalled the painful memories. “It was supposed to be a simple business trip. He was working on a project related to the hotel’s renovation—he was an architect. But something happened, something no one could explain. One night, he called me, panicked, telling me that he had found something…something dangerous. He said it had to do with the hotel’s past, but before he could say more, the call cut off. I never heard from him again.”

Raghav’s jaw clenched as he listened, the gravity of her words sinking in. “What happened to him?”

“They said it was an accident,” Ananya continued, her voice trembling with emotion. “The official report claimed he fell from one of the balconies. But I never believed that. ARaj was too careful, too precise to have made a mistake like that. Something—or someone—killed him. And I came here to find out what.”

Raghav’s face was etched with guilt, though he had no direct connection to what had happened. His family’s hotel had been the scene of tragedy for so many, and now, hearing Ananya’s story, the weight of that responsibility pressed down on him.

“I’m so sorry, Ananya,” he whispered, his hand reaching across the table to gently grasp hers. “I had no idea.”

She looked down at their intertwined hands, the warmth of his touch offering a brief moment of comfort amidst the chaos. But there was no time for comfort, not when they were so close to uncovering the truth.

“I didn’t tell you this to make you feel sorry for me,” she said, pulling her hand back gently. “I told you because I think Raj was onto something. He knew about the hotel’s dark past—about Malhotra, the murders, the corruption. That’s why he died. And now…I think we’re in the same danger.”

Raghav’s eyes hardened with resolve. “Then we have to finish what he started. We can’t let his death, or anyone else’s, be in vain.”

Ananya nodded, appreciating his determination. For the first time, she felt like she wasn’t alone in this fight. Despite their rocky start, Raghav had become an unexpected ally, someone who was now just as invested in finding the truth as she was.

Together, they turned their attention back to the journal, combing through the entries for any additional clues. But it wasn’t until Ananya flipped to the very last page that they found something that made their blood run cold.

“The patients…” she muttered, her eyes scanning the cramped handwriting.

“What is it?” Raghav asked, leaning closer.

“These entries—they’re not just about the hotel. They’re about the asylum.” Ananya’s voice trembled as she continued reading. “There were patients here…trapped, experimented on. Malhotra knew about them, but he wasn’t just a bystander. He was directly involved.”

Raghav’s face twisted in disgust. “The asylum? But that’s been closed for years. My family always said it was a tragic part of the past, but nothing more.”

Ananya shook her head. “This journal says otherwise. The patients didn’t die from natural causes or illnesses. They were killed, Raghav. Tortured and killed. And Malhotra was a part of it.”

The weight of the revelation settled heavily in the room. What had started as a simple investigation into financial corruption had now spiraled into something far more sinister—an operation that involved human lives, secrecy, and murder. And it wasn’t just the hotel’s past that was tainted. Raghav’s family was intrinsically linked to these horrors.

As they sat in stunned silence, a single thought flickered in Ananya’s mind. “If Malhotra was involved in the asylum, then there must be more records—something that explains why. Maybe even the identities of the people responsible.”

Raghav stood up, pacing the room as his mind raced. “We need to find those records. But if the asylum was shut down, where would they be kept?”

“Hidden,” Ananya said simply, her eyes narrowing. “Just like the rest of the secrets in this hotel.”

Raghav nodded, his determination growing. “We’ll search every corner of this place if we have to. We’ll find those records, and we’ll expose the truth.”

But just as they were about to leave the room, Ananya’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at the screen and froze.

“What is it?” Raghav asked, sensing her sudden tension.

Ananya swallowed hard, her eyes wide with disbelief. “It’s a message…from Aarav.”

Raghav’s blood ran cold. “But that’s not possible. He’s been dead for two years.”

Ananya’s hands shook as she opened the message. The words on the screen were brief, but they sent a chill down her spine.

“Leave now, before it’s too late.”

Raghav stared at the message, his mind reeling. “This is a threat.”

Ananya’s voice was barely a whisper as she stared at the message. “Or a warning.”

Before they could react further, the lights in the room flickered, and a sudden chill enveloped the air. It was as though the very walls of the hotel were alive, watching them, warning them.

“We need to move,” Raghav said urgently, his voice steady despite the growing tension. “Whoever sent that message—they don’t want us getting any closer.”

Ananya nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. The walls around them seemed to close in, the weight of the hotel’s dark past pressing down on them with every step.

They were no longer just investigating a mystery—they were racing against time, with unseen forces lurking in the shadows, ready to strike at any moment.

As they left the room, the truth they sought felt both closer and more dangerous than ever before. The secrets of the past were coming to light, but the cost of uncovering them was only just beginning.