...
Kolkata never truly stops breathing.
The tram 🚎moves slowly along the old tracks, metal grinding against metal as if the city itself is whispering its memories. Bus🚌 horns echo through crowded streets. Steam rises from roadside tea stalls. The scent of rain and dust lingers in the humid air.
Everything feels familiar.
But familiarity does not always mean comfort.
She stood by the window of her family home, looking out at the same street she had seen her entire life. This was the house she grew up in. The walls were not cruel. The people were not unkind.
And yet, she had always felt like she was suffocating.
It wasn't hatred.
It wasn't pain.
It was something quieter.
A slow, invisible heaviness pressing against her chest.
She wanted freedom.
Not just from the city.
Not just from expectations.
But from her own past.
The office transfer to France had been convenient — an official reason to leave. But deep down, she knew the truth.
She wasn't relocating.
She was escaping.
The tram lines.
The crowded buses.
The repetitive mornings.
She left them all behind.
France.💫
When she stepped off the train, a sharp cold wind brushed against her face. It felt different. Cleaner. Stranger.
And with that wind came a question.
Am I doing the right thing?
The thought repeated inside her mind like an echo.
As if her subconscious was whispering a warning she didn't fully understand.
She ignored it.
She rented a car and drove toward her hotel.
For two days, she stayed in a small room overlooking a narrow street. She walked through unfamiliar roads, passed quiet cafés, studied old European buildings that stood like silent witnesses to time.
The city was beautiful.
Yet something felt… distant.
On the third morning, her phone rang.
"Madam, the house you were interested in is now fully vacant. If you want it, you'll need to confirm soon. There are other buyers."
She hesitated for only a moment.
"Yes. I'll take it."
"You'll need to send an advance payment. The rest can be handled later."
The call ended.
After transferring the money, a strange chill passed through her.
Why did everything feel so rushed?
Two days later, she stood in front of the house.
Old wooden doors.🚪
Tall windows.🍃
The exterior slightly worn by time.
The house did not look haunted.
But it didn't look welcoming either.
It looked… watchful.
When she stepped inside, the air felt colder than outside.
The rooms were empty. Completely silent.
And yet—
It didn't feel empty.
It felt as if something unseen was breathing within the walls. Waiting.
She ran her fingers across the dusty surface of a table near the entrance.
The silence pressed against her ears.
A strange thought surfaced again.
Did I make a mistake?
No answer came.
Only the stillness of the house.
And the unsettling feeling that this was not the beginning of freedom—
But the beginning of something far darker.😳
The door creaked open slowly.
A stale, suffocating smell rushed toward her.
Not the ordinary scent of dust.
Something heavier. Damp. Almost rotten.
She stepped inside, covering her nose instinctively.🤢
"This is impossible…" she muttered.
The floors were wooden, slightly uneven. The curtains were drawn. The air felt trapped — like it hadn't moved in years.
Her irritation quickly replaced her unease.
She pulled out her phone and dialed the agent.
He answered on the third ring.
"Yes, madam?"
"What is this?" Her voice was sharp. "I paid a large amount for this house. Why does it smell like something died in here?"
A pause.
"Madam, the house was cleaned thoroughly before your arrival."
"This is not cleaned," she snapped. "It's suffocating."
A faint exhale came from the other side.
"Well, you've purchased it now. It is your property. Perhaps it just needs… ventilation."
"That's not what we agreed on."
"Madam," his tone hardened slightly, "the paperwork is complete. There are no complaints listed in the contract."
Click.
The line went dead.
She stared at her phone.
He hung up on her.
A strange anger mixed with something colder.
The house felt quieter now.
Too quiet.
As if it had listened to the entire conversation.
A faint sound echoed from somewhere deeper inside.
Not loud.
Just enough to make her turn her head.
And for a brief second—
She could have sworn the air behind her shifted.
For a moment, she felt it—
the air behind her had shifted slightly.
Turning around, she caught sight of a cat, leaping gracefully.
The cat was pregnant, its belly slightly rounded.
For a brief moment, a soft smile appeared on her face.
Seeing the cat made her feel unexpectedly light and happy.
The cat lingered for a few seconds, then suddenly jumped away.
She turned her attention to the room.
Slowly, she began organizing all her belongings—books, papers, personal items.
She cleaned the room thoroughly, arranging everything neatly, making it feel more like her own space.
Stepping onto the balcony, she noticed a small box lying there.
She carried the box to the dining area and tried to open it.
But it wouldn't budge.
Finally, she found a small, sharp object nearby—a hair clip—and carefully tried to pry open the lock.
The lock, being rusty and old, broke easily.
Inside the box, she discovered unusual and intriguing items:
small stones, a ring💍, and a large, beautiful necklace.
Her eyes lit up with delight, especially at the ring and the necklace.
After dusting off the box and its contents, she cleaned them in the bathroom and then brought them to her bedroom.
That night, holding the ring and necklace in her hands, she examined them closely.
"Oh my God… it's fucking beautiful!✨" she whispered.
She had never seen anything so stunning.
Her heart filled with joy, a strange mix of awe and satisfaction.
Suddenly 😳
The moment she clasped the necklace around her neck, a cold current rushed through her chest — sharp and sudden, like ice slipping beneath her skin.
Her breath caught.
The air in the room felt heavier. Thicker.
Slowly, she stepped in front of the mirror.
Everything looked normal.
Her hair. Her lips. Her skin.
But…
Her eyes.
They seemed deeper. Darker.
As if something was standing behind them — watching from within.
A strange flicker crossed her mind.
An unfamiliar room.
Dim light.
A pair of hands gently placing this same necklace around her neck.🖤
Her heart skipped.
"No… that's impossible."
She had never been here before.
She had never seen this necklace before.
So why did it feel familiar?
Why did it feel like it had chosen her?
The pendant resting against her chest grew warm — slowly, deliberately.
She touched it immediately.
Cold.🥶
Completely cold.
Then where had that warmth come from?
A soft voice brushed against her thoughts — not loud, not clear… but not hers either.
"You don't remember me… do you?"
She stepped back abruptly.
The room was empty.
Completely empty.
And yet—
She no longer felt alone.
"Do you think the necklace is truly cursed, or is it all just in her mind?" 🖤