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Kavya Mumbai ke Bandra West mein Akshara Heights naam ke naye high-rise apartment mein shift hui thi. Tenth floor ka 1003 flat—sea-view, modern interiors, aur mostly young professionals ka complex tha. Pehle toh sab normal tha. Office jao, clients ke saath video calls karo, kabhi rooftop pool, kabhi nearby café.
Ek din lift mein jaate waqt usne notice kiya: 4, 6, 7… Arrey, 5 kidhar gaya? Kisi resident se poocha toh bola, “Yeh design ka matter hai. 5 ko skip kiya hai Vastu ke chakkar mein.” Lekin Kavya interior designer thi, kisi modern building mein aisa rare hota hai. Architecture iss complex ka western influenced tha, Vastu ko priority dene ka sawaal hi nahi.
Agli raat, 2.37 AM. Kavya ke phone pe unknown number se call aaya—par phone screen par likha tha, “Kavya (5th Floor)”. Vo hansi, sochi kisi friend ne prank kiya hoga. Uthaya toh awaaz crackling thi—jaise landline ho, aur peeche se faint radio static sunai de raha ho.
“Main andar band hoon. Please… ek baar aake dekh le,” awaaz wahi thi, usi ki. Bilkul usi pitch, usi tone. “Lekinnn main toh yahaan hoon,” Kavya bolti rahi, par line cut ho gayi.
Agli morning, Kavya ne building ke security room mein jaakar lift CCTV check karne ko bola. “Aapse kal raat koi fifth floor gaya tha?” Guard thoda confuse dikha, par jab video rewind kiya gaya, toh Kavya clear dikh rahi thi—lift mein akeli, raat ke 2.35 AM par… aur lift rukhi thi 5th par. Lift ka andar ka light off ho gaya tha kuch seconds ke liye. Fir woh 10th floor chali gayi.
“Par sir lift 5 pe rukti hi nahi,” guard bola. Kavya ne insists kiya ki woh building plan dekhna chahti hai. Security log laaya. Plan mein clear tha: 4 ke baad 6. 5th floor ka koi mention nahi.
Dopahar mein, Kavya ne apne flat ke balcony se dekha—lift shaft ke paas ek faint outline jaise koi extra floor ho, lekin windows blacked out thi. Next day, Kavya mein curiosity bhaut badh chuki thi. Lift mein chadhte waqt usne sab buttons press kiye, lekin jab 5 press kiya toh vo glow kar gaya. Pehle kabhi nahi hota tha!
Lift dheere se rukhi… Door khula. Andar pitch black corridor tha. Smell was metallic—jaise rust aur purane blood ka mishran. Kavya ne phone ka torch on kiya. Corridor ke dono ends mein doors thay—sare numbered 5-A, 5-B, 5-C… but jale hue jaise, blackened. Walls par purani newspaper cutouts chipke the, damp aur faded.
Ek door pe likha tha: “Flat 5-E – Kavya Shah”
Uska dimag churn kar raha tha. Yeh possible hi nahi. Ye haunted nahi tha, ye kuch aur tha—a glitch, ya fractured reality. Par woh apne flat ka door khola. Andar ka interior same tha, lekin sab kuch wrong tha. Poore room mein ek eerie silence tha, jisme uske khud ke heartbeat ke alawa kuch nahi sunai de raha tha.
Ek mirror tha wahan living room ke kone mein—jisme uska reflection tha bhi, aur nahi bhi. Jab usne haath uthaya, mirror mein reflection late se react kar raha tha.
“Tu kab lotegi?” awaaz peeche se aayi.
Palatke dekha, toh wahi—Kavya khud—with blood-soaked eyes, and expressionless face. “Main 10 se 5 mein move ho gayi thi… ab tu bhi yahin hai.”
Kavya scream karne ja rahi thi, but dusri Kavya ne uska haath pakad liya. Aur original Kavya… dissolve hone lagi, jaise liquid mein melt ho rahi ho.
Lift ke CCTV mein dusri raat ek aur record hua—ek ladki lift se 5th pe gayi, phir nahi aayi.
Jab building company ko red flags mile, toh ek hushed legal document leak hua: Akshara Heights land pe pehle ek mental asylum tha. Fifth floor ke aslyum rooms mein suicide hota tha—the pattern kabhi samjha nahi gaya. Builders ne tower banate waqt 5th floor cover-up kiya, par construct kar chuke the.
Par 5th floor kabhi gaya hi nahi. Sirf bhool gaye.
Aur jo log us naam ke hote hain—wo kabhi kabhi, accidentally, apne alternate versions se mil jaate hain.
Aur replacement toh sirf ek jaata hai.
Tab se, jab bhi lift night mein randomly rukti hai, log aankh band karke button press karte hain—bas 5 light up na ho jaaye.
Kyonki agar wo floor ek baar khul gaya… toh naya naam likhne mein zyada waqt nahi lagta.
