The Last House of the Village

In a small village in Bihar, there stood an old, broken house. People called it the last house, because beyond it began a dense forest. Villagers said that at night they heard footsteps, but never saw anyone.

Kartik, a boy from the city, didn’t believe such stories. He thought,

“Fear is just a trick of the mind.”

One night, he took his phone’s flashlight and walked towards that house.

The door was half broken… As soon as he stepped inside, dust flew everywhere.

In the corner lay an old wooden box, as if someone had left it in a hurry.

Kartik opened the box…

Inside, he found an old diary and a torn photograph. The photo showed a man pointing toward the forest. On the first page of the diary, it was written:

“If you are reading this, don’t delay. He has returned.”

Suddenly, Kartik heard footsteps behind him—slow but very clear.

Thud… thud… thud…

His breath froze. He turned his phone’s flashlight behind him—but no one was there.

Yet the footsteps grew louder.

Thud… thud… thud…

The next page of the diary flipped on its own.

It read

“Footsteps are not the real danger… The real danger is the one who makes no sound.”

At that very moment, the door behind him started to slowly close.

Kartik turned around…

And for the first time, he realized he wasn’t alone.

On the wall, he saw a long shadow—far longer than any human could ever have.

The shadow began moving toward him… slowly.

Kartik tried to scream—but no sound came out.

And then—

The whole house fell silent.

The next morning, when the villagers reached the house, they found only one thing:

That old diary, with the last page torn out.

On it, faintly written:

“Who’s next?”