Episode 1
A new tenant
Incoming Call
“Hello, Mr. Abraar?”
“Yes, I’m on the way. I’ll be there in 5 to 10 minutes.”
“Alright then. Bye.”
Sigh “Oh God, this man has no patience whatsoever.”
Moments later, Harris arrives at Abraar’s flat.
“Hello, Harris. Nice to meet you.”
Harris replies warmly, “Nice to meet you too.”
Abraar gets serious.
“Alright Harris, listen to me carefully. I’m handing you the keys to Apartment 41. There’s one thing you must always remember—do not touch the rope hanging from the fan. Don’t try to remove it either. And you must never use that fan.”
Harris raises a brow. “Why not? Why can’t I use the fan?”
Abraar pauses, then says gravely, “Because that fan doesn’t even have an electric connection.”
Harris, confused, asks, “But what am I supposed to do in the summer? Right now it’s freezing, but what about when the heat hits? And if it’s a technical issue, why not get it fixed? New tenants will suffer otherwise. And what’s with that rope? Why not just remove it? If you can’t remove the rope, then change the whole fan. What’s stopping you?”
Abraar’s voice grows quiet. “You’re not getting it, Harris. There’s something in that room.”
Harris half-laughs. “What? Like a ghost? A witch who’ll swallow me whole?”
“Yes.” Abraar doesn’t blink. “Anyone who touches that rope or the fan suffers dearly. They either deeply regret it... or lose their life.”
Harris chuckles. “Come on. This sounds like something out of a movie. Keep this stuff out of real life or you’ll scare away your tenants.”
Abraar’s tone turns firm. “I’m not joking. Many tenants before you thought the same thing... and paid the price. Some... paid with their lives.”
Harris frowns. “Lives?”
“Not just deaths. Horrible deaths. Deaths you can't even imagine. If I told you, it would shake your soul to its core.”
Harris wanted to ask more, but Abraar cut him off.
“Just take the keys. And remember... don’t touch the rope hanging from the fan.”
“Alright, Mr. Abraar.”
Harris enters the apartment. The moment he steps in, a chilling breeze greets him—one so cold, it feels like he just entered a glacier. He shrugs it off, assuming it’s just the London weather. After all, he had only been here a month.
But he had no idea… his joy was about to turn into misery. His pleasure… into punishment.
Exhausted from travel and cold to the bone, he changed into warmer clothes. The apartment had two rooms—a bedroom and a living room with an attached kitchen. The bedroom had a bed, a TV, a wardrobe, and some decorative pieces.
He crawled under thick blankets, wrapped himself up tightly, and finally felt warm. That’s when his eyes fell on it.
The rope.
Dangling.
Untouched.
Abraar’s warning echoed in his mind:
"Don’t touch the rope."
He got up and looked closely—there were bloodstains on the rope. Dry. Old.
“Who’d even want to touch this filthy thing?” he muttered and went back to bed.
Eventually, he fell asleep.
In the dead of night, he woke up to a tall, shadowy figure standing at the foot of his bed.
It spoke. The voice was low, angry, and chilling.
“Hang yourself from the rope.”
Harris gasped. “I-I won’t do it!”
“I can give you everything you’ve ever desired. Just try it once. Just once…”
“No! You're lying! I’ll die if I do that!”
“You won’t die. You’ll be empowered. Just try it.”
“I said no! Go away! I won’t do it! Leave me alone!”
“You will do it. Just watch…”
Suddenly, Harris raised his hands… and grabbed the rope.
It wasn’t him anymore. The shadow had taken control of his body. Slowly, he wrapped the rope around his neck.
“You’ll get everything you ever wished for… just once… try it.”
As the noose tightened, the chair beneath his feet tipped over. He dangled, hanging from the fan.
And just then…
The shadow, now holding a gleaming knife, lunged toward him.
Harris screamed.
To be continued…
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