Mohit’s recent relocation from the bustling and tiring city of Delhi to the tranquil hill station of Nainital had marked a significant change in his life. The decision to become a school teacher in this serene town wasn’t one he embraced with enthusiasm. Leaving behind the vibrant streets of Delhi meant bidding farewell to his friends and the easy, carefree life he had grown accustomed to. With graduation behind him, it was time to embark on a new journey of work and self-sufficiency.

Having enjoyed the comforts of his parents’ home, where everything was provided for him, Mohit felt a pang of guilt. He longed to stand on his own feet and earn his own keep. It was this sentiment that led him to accept the teaching position. The school, though modest in size, exuded a quaint charm nestled amidst lush green mountains. Mohit’s assigned task was to impart the knowledge of mathematics to students in grades 8 to 10. However, his true passion lay in the realm of creativity and storytelling, making his daily routine as a teacher feel dull and unfulfilling.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as months turned into monotonous days. Life in this village lacked the company of peers his age, as most had migrated to larger cities in pursuit of higher education or employment opportunities. Loneliness became Mohit’s constant companion, and he resigned himself to a life that lacked excitement and adventure.

One fateful morning, darkness cloaked the landscape as heavy rain cascaded from the heavens. The rhythmic patter of raindrops and intermittent bursts of lightning failed to rouse Mohit from his slumber. However, after an hour of persistent rainfall, he stirred restlessly in his bed, jolted awake by a terrifying nightmare. In his dream, the room morphed into an underwater chamber, submerging him in a flood of fear. Gasping for breath, he opened his eyes, relief washing over him as he realized he was safe within the confines of his room. Although shrouded in darkness and silence, he took solace in the knowledge that his nightmare was nothing more than a figment of his imagination.

Seated on the edge of his bed, Mohit remained in contemplation for a brief spell, pondering the course of his day, which mirrored the uneventful months that preceded it. The cacophony of rain persisted outside, accompanied by sporadic flashes of lightning. Casting a glance towards the door, he noticed water seeping in from under the threshold. Just as he considered rising to address the intrusion, a lightning bolt illuminated the room, casting an eerie glow. In that split second of illumination, a chilling sight caught Mohit’s gaze. A battered woman, her visage void of emotion and bereft of an umbrella, stood just outside his door. The one-second glimpse sent a shiver coursing down his spine, leaving him perplexed. Who was she? Why was she stationed at his door? Questions flooded his mind, inciting restlessness.

Another bolt of lightning pierced the darkness, revealing the woman once more. This time, she peered anxiously from beneath the door, her eyes bloodshot with fear. Mohit’s heart raced, the enigma of her presence sending waves of trepidation through his being. Startled, he let out a scream, but the room descended into darkness once more, leaving him blind to his surroundings. Silence enveloped the room for a minute or two, and Mohit summoned the courage to confront the mysterious woman. Just as he prepared to rise from his bed, the door creaked open, sending shivers down his spine. Trembling with fear, he mustered a feeble voice and asked, “Who’s there?” The door slammed shut abruptly, followed

by the fading echo of hurried footsteps. Drenched in perspiration, he remained frozen, afraid to make a sound, paralyzed by an overwhelming sense of terror. Motionless, he endured the passage of 40 agonizing minutes, gradually overcoming the grip of fear that had held him captive.

As a semblance of bravery crept back into his spirit, Mohit dared to blink in the darkness, his gaze searching for the elusive light switch next to his bed. With trembling hands, he reached out, a glimmer of hope clinging to his touch as he pressed the switch, praying for the room to be bathed in light. Yet, disappointment seized him as darkness prevailed. The switch had failed him, leaving the room enshrouded in an inky blackness. His heartbeat quickened, anxiety coursing through his veins.

Determined to assuage his parched throat, Mohit fumbled for the water bottle resting nearby, within arm’s reach. But as he grasped it, a sudden force snatched it from his hand. Startled, his eyes widened, his senses heightened to a state of utmost alertness, akin to a deer hiding from its predator. A symphony of shattering glass erupted, as his bottle collided with the ground, followed by the cacophony of destruction emanating from his kitchen. The echoes resonated with a sinister intensity, suffusing the room with a bone-chilling terror. Overwhelmed by fear, Mohit recoiled, retreating beneath his pillow, anticipating an impending demise.

Moments crawled by, the noise eventually subsiding, replaced by an eerie stillness that engulfed the room. Mohit tentatively opened his eyes, greeted by the warm rays of morning sunlight streaming through his window. The cheerful chirping of birds filled the air, and the rain had ceased its relentless assault. He realized his pillow rested beneath his head, not over it. His gaze shifted to the fallen bottle and the accompanying glass on the table beside his bed, remnants of the disturbance he had witnessed in the night. Contrary to the chaos he had imagined, his kitchen remained undisturbed, as orderly as he had left it the previous night. The door, locked from the inside, bore no signs of forced entry. It dawned upon him that it had all been a nightmarish episode, and a smile of relief curled upon his lips. Laughing at the folly of his own imagination, he embraced the dawn of a new day.

As was his routine, Mohit rose from his bed, prepared his breakfast, and readied himself for school. Stepping outside, he paused to secure the lock on his door, only to discover a trail of footprints and handprints imprinted in the damp soil just beyond his threshold—a chilling reminder of someone peering beneath his door. Paralyzed by a potent mix of shock and confusion, he stood there, grappling with the inexplicable presence that had once again sent a chill coursing down his spine.