Echoes of the Silent Hollow

In the heart of the Himalayas, where the mountains whispered secrets of ages past, JUIT University stood as a monument to human ambition, nestled within the embrace of nature's untamed beauty. The university, with its sprawling campus set against the backdrop of Solan Waknaghat, was a place of serene beauty and hidden depths, its buildings and dormitories carved into the very heart of the hills. Yet, beneath its tranquil exterior and the pristine snow that blanketed its grounds in winter, there lurked whispers of the unseen, echoes of a past that refused to fade into silence.

The Polythene Prelude

It was during the winter break, a time when the college transformed into a realm of silence, its bustling life paused, leaving behind a haunting stillness. I had chosen to stay, drawn by the allure of solitude and the haunting beauty of the snow-covered campus. My room, buried deep on the minus 10th floor, offered a retreat from the world, a place of quiet amidst the whispering winds and the cold embrace of the winter.

One evening, as dusk painted the sky in shades of twilight, I ventured out of my secluded haven, compelled by a desire to explore the silent campus. The stairwells, usually echoing with the footsteps of students, were now silent, the only sound my own breathing and the distant howl of the wind. As I ascended from the depths, a sense of unease began to take hold, a feeling that I was not alone in my journey through the deserted corridors.

On the 6th floor, my heart skipped a beat as a polythene bag, seemingly caught in a draft that did not exist, began to stir. It rose, twisting and turning in the air before me, as if animated by an unseen force. Then, from the shadows, a voice, ethereal and chilling, whispered, "Go back to your room." The words, spoken with an otherworldly authority, froze me in my tracks, a primal fear taking root in my heart. In a moment of panic, I turned and fled, the echo of my footsteps a desperate rhythm in the silence, the whispering voice following me like a specter.

A Night of Shadows

The incident with the polythene bag haunted me, a lingering fear that refused to be shaken. Yet, the true depth of the college's mysteries was yet to reveal itself. Weeks later, seeking a reprieve from the oppressive atmosphere of the campus, a friend and I ventured to a local bar, a brief escape into a world of laughter and warmth. The night was clear, the moon casting a silver glow over the snow-laden paths, transforming the world into a landscape of ethereal beauty.

As we made our way back, our spirits buoyed by the brief respite, we encountered a figure on the path ahead, a young boy in a school uniform, his presence an anomaly in the deserted night. Our calls to him went unanswered, and as we quickened our pace to catch up, he rounded a corner and vanished, as if swallowed by the night itself. The sudden disappearance left us reeling, a cold dread settling over us as the familiar path seemed to twist and turn in unfamiliar ways.

Then, breaking the silence, the same chilling whisper, "Go back to your room," enveloped us, a voice from the shadows that seemed to know our deepest fears. In that moment, terror took hold, and we ran, the path back to the college a blur of moonlight and shadow.

7

The Unraveling That Never Came

The incidents, both the polythene bag and the vanishing boy, were threads of a larger, unseen tapestry, each whispering the same ominous warning. The campus, with its beauty and isolation, held secrets that were both ancient and unsettling. Yet, the courage to unravel these mysteries abandoned us, the fear of what lay hidden in the shadows a barrier we could not cross.

From that winter forth, I never ventured alone into the depths of the college, nor did I stay behind during the holidays. The whispers, the unseen presence, and the haunting beauty of the campus remained etched in my memory, a chilling reminder of the winter that forever changed my perception of Juit College.

Shadows Beneath the Snow

Juit College, for all its serene beauty and the promise of solitude, was a place marked by the whispers of the past, a campus where the unseen made itself known in whispers carried by the wind, where the beauty of the snow hid shadows deep and dark. It was a reminder that beneath the surface of tranquility, there lie stories untold, secrets whispered in the cold embrace of winter, forever a part of the legacy of the college nestled in the Himalayan foothills.