"Brother... I'm scared of the dark... Please come."
Riya's innocent voice pierced right through Aryan's heart. Logic told him this was impossible. He had performed Riya's funeral rites himself five years ago. But there was so much pain and truth in that voice that Aryan's mind went numb.
He didn't look back at that "Puppeteer Ramu Kaka." He ran down the stairs like a madman.
Reaching the hall, his gaze fell upon the main door. It wasn't open, but it would be easy to break down. He could run right now. He could be free.
But then came that same sob... this time from behind the basement door beneath the stairs.
"Riya!" Aryan screamed and lunged toward the basement door.
The door swung open soundlessly, as if someone inside had been waiting just for him. The stale smell of rotting wood and old clothes wafted out from within. The darkness was so dense that the flashlight beam died out after just a few feet.
Aryan began to descend the stairs. With every step, the temperature plummeted.
At the foot of the stairs lay a large room. It was filled with old broken chairs, rusted trunks, and cobwebs.
In the exact center of the room stood a small chair.
And on that chair... someone was sitting.
A little girl. She was wearing the same Yellow Frock that Riya had worn on the day she died. She was sitting with her back to him, her face turned toward the darkness.
The flashlight almost slipped from Aryan's hand. Tears welled up in his eyes.
"Riya?" he whispered. "Is it really you...?"
He slowly approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
The girl's body was as hard and cold as stone.
As soon as Aryan turned her around, his scream died in his throat.
It wasn't Riya.
It was a Wax Doll.
But the doll's face wasn't plain. Pasted onto the doll's face was a photograph of Aryan himself. But in the photo, Aryan's eyes had been gouged out, and a red Cross (X) was marked over his mouth.
And resting in the doll's lap was an old tape recorder, from which Riya's voice was playing:
"Save me, Brother... save me..."
Click. The tape recorder stopped.
Suddenly, laughter erupted from all four corners of the basement. Not the laughter of children... but the laughter of something demonic.
That's when Aryan realized he had walked into a trap. He turned back to flee.
SLAM!
The heavy iron door of the basement slammed shut on its own.
Now Aryan was imprisoned in that dungeon—trapped with that horrific doll and the things hiding in the darkness.
What happened next?