Far from the city's chaos, nestled in the high hills, 'Nilgiri Cottage' was as silent as it was unsettling. Sameer, a struggling novelist, had come here seeking solitude to finish his horror masterpiece. The creak of the old wooden floors and the whistling wind against the windowpanes felt like the perfect inspiration—until the silence began to breathe.The first night was uneventful. On the second night, while Sameer sat hunched over his laptop, he felt a presence. A prickle ran down his spine, as if someone was standing right behind him. He spun around, but the room was empty. Yet, a faint, icy breath brushed against his neck. He dismissed it as a trick of his overworked mind.The next morning, Sameer gasped at his reflection. Faint, bluish finger marks were bruised around his throat, as if someone had tried to choke him in his sleep. Terrified, he sought out Kaka, an elderly local. Kaka's eyes widened. "Son," he whispered, "you aren't alone in that house. There is a shadow there that only appears when you stop looking for it."Determined to debunk the myth, Sameer set up motion-sensor cameras throughout the cottage. That night, he sat in his room, monitoring the live feed. Suddenly, static hissed across the screen. In the living room feed, a silhouette emerged—a tall, ink-black shadow with unnaturally long limbs. It was crawling, limb by limb, toward his bedroom.Sameer's heart hammered against his ribs. He bolted the door and retreated to the furthest corner. He watched in horror as the shadow began to seep under the door like spilled ink. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying for dawn. Then, suddenly, the heavy atmosphere lifted. Everything went silent.Trembling, Sameer opened his eyes. The camera feed showed an empty hallway. He let out a breath of relief and walked to the kitchen for water. As he opened the fridge, he caught his reflection in the dark glass of the window.The glass shattered in his mind. The reflection showed his body, his clothes, but the face... the face wasn't his. It was the face of the shadow he had seen on the camera—void of eyes, just two hollow pits of darkness. A cold, rasping voice echoed directly behind his ear: "You saw me... now it's my turn."Sameer tried to scream, but no sound escaped. The next day, the police found the cottage abandoned. Sameer's laptop was still humming on the desk. The last sentence typed on the screen was: "I am inside you."Sameer was never found. The only clue left behind were long, bluish finger marks smeared across every single mirror in the house.
