The soft morning light gradually slipped through the broken doors of the hostel. The rain had stopped, but the scent of wet earth and the cool breeze still lingered, bringing a fresh feeling to the air. The ten students, tired but eager, were beginning their new life with hopeful eyes.
The atmosphere felt different — as if an unseen force was watching every move from inside the walls. No one spoke about it, but an unspoken fear had already settled deep within their hearts.
Aryan noticed an old diary lying in the corner of the room. "What's this?" he asked.
Vishal picked it up carefully. "Looks like it fell from somewhere. Maybe it holds the story of this hostel."
The pages were yellowed with age, and the ink had faded. They slowly began to turn the fragile sheets one by one, curiosity growing with each word.