Title – The Hollow Reflection
When Zahira and Sajiya returned home, a strange sense of calm surrounded them—but they were far from alone. Unbeknownst to them, the dark spirit had followed them, hiding in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment. Zahira assumed the entity had vanished during the chaos of the previous night. Her body still trembled from the memory, and her mind wanted nothing more than silence and rest. She tried to reassure herself, convincing her heart that the nightmare had passed.
Sajiya, on the other hand, was anxious and distracted. Her thoughts were consumed by Ilyas—her love, still lying unconscious in the hospital bed. She didn't care about anything else. She just wanted to return to him, to be by his side. But Zahira needed a moment to breathe. She quietly slipped into her room, deciding to take a warm bath to relax her nerves. The scent of lavender soap and steam filled the bathroom as she closed the door behind her.
What she didn't know—what her instincts couldn't sense—was that the entity was already there… watching her. Its hollow, invisible presence lurked just outside the fogged glass door. The spirit wanted her—her blood, her soul. But something unknown, something invisible to Zahira, was protecting her. A force, perhaps divine or ancient, wrapped itself around her like a veil, making it impossible for the spirit to attack her directly.
The spirit growled lowly, frustrated at its inability to harm her. Its rage echoed silently through the tiles. Then, something caught its eye. A photograph. Aryan's photo sitting on Zahira's bedside table. A brilliant, malicious idea crawled into the spirit's mind.
Aryan was away. He had left for a business trip and wouldn't return for days.
And that meant… no one would question if he returned a little early.
A dark transformation began.
Within moments, the spirit took human shape. Its flesh twisted and morphed until it resembled Aryan perfectly—his hair, his eyes, his voice. It was uncanny. If Zahira or Sajiya saw him, they would never suspect anything.
The next morning, just as Zahira and Sajiya sat down for breakfast, the doorbell rang.
Ding-dong.
Their house helper answered the door.
Standing outside was Aryan.
Or so they thought.
Zahira's face lit up with joy and relief. After the terrifying night she'd just experienced, seeing him brought a sense of safety. Sajiya also rushed forward, her heart filled with hope—maybe he had brought the doctor with him.
"Aryan!" Zahira exclaimed and moved forward to hug him—but he stepped back ever so slightly.
Zahira stopped, confused, her arms frozen mid-air.
That hesitation stung her like a needle. Aryan never pulled away from her like that.
Sajiya noticed the awkwardness but tried to brush it off.
"Aryan, did you talk to the doctor? Did you bring him with you? Tell me!" she asked anxiously, with full of emotions and hope.
"Yes," the fake Aryan replied with a perfect smile. "I spoke to him. He suggested a special medicine. It'll help Ilyas recover."
Sajiya sighed with relief. Her heart felt lighter. "Thank God. Finally…"
But Zahira frowned slightly. "Your trip was supposed to last a week… you're back in just two days?"
The spirit-in-disguise smoothly answered, "I couldn't stay away from you. Business meetings can wait. You need me more."
The words made Zahira's chest tighten. It felt real… too real. And yet, something didn't feel quite right.
Together, they decided to go to the hospital. On the way, Sajiya kept asking about the medicine.
"What's it called? I'll get it myself if needed."
But fake Aryan remained vague. "Don't worry. I have it."
At the pharmacy, he quietly bought a pack of simple glucose tablets and handed them to Sajiya.
"This is it," he said. "Special formulation."
Of course, it was a lie. There was no real medicine. But the spirit had a plan.
Once alone with Ilyas, the fake Aryan leaned over his unconscious body. His eyes darkened. His breath stilled.
He began to summon the dark power within him.
Black mist coiled around his fingers as he placed them on Ilyas's chest. Instead of healing, he drained a portion of Ilyas's energy, keeping him weak, but just enough to wake up.
Moments later, Ilyas opened his eyes. His breaths were shallow, but he was alive.
Sajiya, witnessing the miracle, burst into tears. She threw her arms around Ilyas and sobbed uncontrollably.
"You came back to me… oh my God… you came back…"
Fake Aryan smiled—but not at her.
His eyes were on Zahira the whole time.
He had gotten closer to her but they spirit can't able to touch her . Now he lived among them, but slept in different beds, spoke like Aryan, moved like him.
But how long could he keep up the act?
And would the spirit ever discover the secret behind her mysterious protection?
The real battle had just begun.