The fire crackled softly in the middle of the circle. The survivors sat quietly, each lost in thought—until Barry slowly stood up.
"This happened to me in London," he began, his voice low but steady.
"A few years ago… when I first moved there with two of my friends."
London - Rowan Park
Old. Dusty. Crumbling.
That was Rowan Park—a street filled with ancient lodges and cheap rental apartments. It was there that Barry and his two friends arrived, hunting for a job at one of London's big companies.
"We reached earlier than expected. The city was already buzzing… office workers rushing by, taxis honking, the usual chaos."
Amidst the crowd, they flagged down a taxi.
Not to go to their company—
But to search for a place to stay.
"We found this super cheap lodge in Rowan Park. Way too small for three people… but we decided to adjust."
The room?
A single, narrow bed that barely fit two.
A broken chair with a cracked leg.
A rusty ceiling fan creaking with every turn.
> "We were too tired that day. So we skipped work, and went straight to bed early," Barry said, glancing into the fire.
Then came midnight.
"The fan suddenly stopped. That creaking noise—it just… vanished. That's what woke me."
Barry paused.
"At first, I couldn't open my eyes. But I felt something close. Very close… right near my face."
When he finally managed to open his eyes—
He froze.
"Hanging from the ceiling fan… was a body. A lifeless human form."
Its feet were swaying just inches from Barry's face.
"I couldn't move. I was shaking. I crawled backward, but my friends were fast asleep beside me."
The body slowly faded into the darkness. Gone.
"I didn't tell anyone. Not that night. I just… couldn't."
The next day passed like nothing happened. They all went to work.
But that night—
"One of my friends woke up screaming. He said he saw a body hanging from the fan. The same body I saw the night before."
Barry looked around at the group.
"He described it exactly. The same way. Same fan. Same body."
That's when Barry finally confessed.
"I told them… I saw it too. The night before."
They had remembered something else too.
A story they heard when booking the room.
"Years ago, a family had lived there. Their child had… hanged himself in that very room."
Afterward, the parents left the city and never returned.
"Everyone who stayed in that room since then reported strange things. But… no one had said anything recently. So I guess we got lucky."
Barry shook his head.
"We stayed there for just two nights. And on both… something impossible happened."
The next morning, they ran from the lodge.
Found a new place. Never looked back.
"To this day… I still wonder," Barry whispered.
"Even if it was just our imagination—how could all three of us see the same thing?"
He stopped speaking.
The campfire flickered, shadows dancing across the ground.
Silence fell again.
And then—
Max slowly stood up.
"That was terrifying, Barry," she said softly.
The fire was still burning low, its embers casting flickering shadows across the gathered circle. Barry had just finished speaking, his haunting tale of the hanging body lingering in the minds of everyone.
Some sat in silence, their expressions tense with unease. Others exchanged nervous glances, skeptical but quiet.
"What I'm going to tell you… it didn't happen to me.
It happened to my brother."
" So I can't say for sure how real it was… but he believed it. And after what happened, I started believing it too."
Her voice grew softer as the others leaned forward.
"We used to live in a pretty big house. Lots of rooms.
But most nights, my parents, my brother, and I would all sleep in the living room."
"That night was like any other. My parents and I fell asleep early. My brother stayed up a little longer to watch TV. He was lying on the sofa beside it."
"Eventually, he drifted off."
But something woke him.
"He told me later—it felt like light on his face. Not too bright, but just enough to make him open his eyes."
He sat up slowly, blinking against the glow.
"He thought he'd forgotten to switch off the TV. So he stood up, walked over to the wall, and reached for the switch."
But it was already off.
"He checked twice. The power was off. But the screen… it was glowing."
A chill crept down Max's spine as she repeated the next part.
"And on that glowing screen… was a blurry face."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Not a reflection. Not a paused image. A face. Moving. Breathing."
"My brother stepped closer. His heart was pounding, but he leaned in."
"And that's when he realized something."
She took a breath.
"The face on the screen wasn't from the TV."
"It was a reflection. The real thing… was standing behind him."
Max's voice faltered for a moment, but she continued.
"He froze. Completely. Couldn't turn around. Couldn't even breathe."
"He said… in that moment, he knew—knew—that if he turned around, something terrible would happen."
"So he didn't."
"He just stood there. Frozen."
Then, everything went black.
"He doesn't remember what happened next. The next thing he knew—he was on the floor. Surrounded by me, Mom, and Dad."
"He must have fainted. That's what my parents thought."
"My mom scolded him. Said he must've watched a scary movie and dreamt it all."
"But my brother… he didn't argue."
"He just stared at the TV."
Max's gaze wandered into the fire for a moment.
"Later that day, when he finally told me the whole thing… he said he didn't want to sleep in that room again."
"Not ever."
She looked around the circle of listeners now, her face calm but eyes watchful.
"You might think it was just a dream. Maybe it was.
But when someone tells you a story with that much fear in their eyes… it stays with you."
"Even today… it stays with me."
She took a slow breath, then stepped back and sat down.
Silence returned.
Even the wind seemed to have paused, waiting.
The fire popped softly.
And then—
Charlie stood up.
"Alright. My turn."
To be continued...
Next chapter release date 29/6/25