Rainfall Room –
The rain hadn’t stopped. Not even for a second.
It clawed at the windows of the lodge like restless fingers trying to get in. The lodge—silent, still, and yet breathing—watched Arav like a trapped memory refusing to stay buried.
The journal he found in Room Eleven still lay open on the bed, soaked slightly from his wet fingertips. The words were half-faded, some crossed out, others rewritten over and over again:
“He returns when it rains.”
Arav stood now, staring at the large mirror above the old wooden dresser. It was cracked at one corner, and if one looked long enough, it seemed the cracks moved ever so slightly, like veins pulsing in living skin.
He didn’t remember this mirror. Not from childhood. Not from any visit.
But it remembered him.
He leaned forward.
The air changed.
The room grew colder, not from the rain outside, but from something that had crept in.
1: The Mirror's Game
His breath fogged the glass. In that thin mist, a second reflection appeared beside his.But he was alone.He stepped back.The second face—gone.
He leaned in again. Only his face. This time he whispered, unsure why:
“Who are you?”And then, the lights flickered.
The fan above stopped. A low hum came from the floorboards beneath. Something was stirring—beneath the room. Beneath Room Eleven.
Arav backed away from the mirror and reached for the drawer below the dresser. Inside, he found only dust, a comb with strands of white hair, and… a small square photograph.He turned it over.
There were four people in the image. One was clearly a younger version of himself, maybe eight years old. The others—two adults and a young girl—looked familiar, but he couldn’t name them.But what caught his breath was this:The reflection in the mirror behind the group was… wrong.
The boy in the mirror wasn’t smiling. His eyes were wide. Afraid. His hands weren’t at his sides… they were clawing at the glass.
2: The Broken Voice
Thunder cracked outside. The photograph slipped from Arav’s hand and fluttered to the floor, landing beside the bed.
A sound—creak—came from the hallway. Arav turned.
He stepped into the hall, the damp wood cold beneath his feet. He passed by other rooms. All doors shut. All numbers glowing faintly under the emergency red light.
Room Twelve.
Room Ten.
Room Nine.
He paused at a door at the end of the corridor. Room Four.
The number was half scratched, as if someone had tried to erase it.He reached for the doorknob.It turned.But the door wouldn’t open.
Instead, a voice—soft, low, like breath on a phone—came from inside:
“Arav… why did you leave me here…?”
He froze. Every part of him turned cold.That voice…It sounded like someone who once cried for him in the rain.
3: Rain Beneath the Floor
Rushing back into Room Eleven, Arav tried to catch his breath. The room had changed.
The broken mirror was now completely shattered, pieces all over the floor.Yet… he hadn’t heard a sound.
The journal had flipped to its final page on its own. There was only one word, written in blood-like ink: “Below.”
Arav dropped to his knees and knocked against the wooden floorboards. One was loose.With trembling fingers, he pulled it open.
Darkness stared back. And water. A thin layer of rainwater sloshed beneath the lodge, shimmering even without light. A tight crawlspace, hidden beneath the room.He grabbed the flashlight from his bag and climbed in.
4: Beneath Room Eleven
It smelled like moss and something long forgotten. The air was thick and wet. The wood groaned with every move. Something shifted in the darkness behind him, but when he turned, nothing.
A small tunnel stretched ahead. Scratched into its walls were words—hundreds of them, like a desperate diary:
“He watches.”
“Don't sleep during the rain.”
“The boy is not the boy.”
“Room Eleven remembers.”
He crawled faster. At the end of the tunnel was an opening—an old storage space, filled with broken furniture, torn mattresses, and an old, flickering yellow lamp.And in the corner…
A mirror.Tall, standing, untouched.Unbroken.Arav approached it slowly.
5: The Second Self
The mirror was clean. Too clean. His own face stared back, but something was wrong.
His reflection blinked slower.His reflection smiled first.And then… his reflection stepped forward.Arav didn’t move.But his reflection did.It raised its hand.
Tapped the glass.
Three times.TAP. TAP. TAP.
Then, it mouthed: “Let me out.”The ground shook. Water began rising in the crawlspace behind him.
The mirror cracked—just like the one in Room Eleven.And from behind the glass… came a sound. A scream? A whisper? It was both.He turned and ran, crawling back through the tunnel, heart slamming in his chest.But something was following.He didn’t look back.
6: No Exit
Bursting back into Room Eleven, drenched, panting, Arav collapsed on the bed. The door to the room slammed shut behind him.
He was not alone.Standing near the dresser was a small girl. The same girl from the photograph.She looked at him, her eyes distant.
“You left,” she said.
“I didn’t know…” Arav whispered.
“You knew.”A pause.Then she pointed to the mirror shards on the floor.“Someone came through.”
Arav followed her gaze. Among the shards, one piece reflected not the room—but a man standing behind him.
He spun around.No one.The girl was gone.Only the rain remained.
7: Tomorrow Is Not Certain
The next morning never came.Arav opened the curtains. It was still night.His watch—stopped at 3:13 AM.The room phone began to ring.He didn’t answer.
Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the broken mirror, the photograph in his lap, and the final line from the journal echoing in his mind:
“He returns when it rains.”But now, Arav wasn’t sure if he had returned…Or if he’d never left
The Lonely Pen By Aj
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