Voices from the eighth floor

 


🕯️ Voices from the Eighth Floor

A Psychological Thriller Set in Islamabad

By Faraz Parvez
Professor Dr. (Retired) Arshad Afzal
Retired Faculty Member, Umm Al-Qura University, Makkah, KSA
(Pseudonym of Professor Dr. Arshad Afzal)

I. The New Beginning

After her bitter divorce, Amna, a 32-year-old journalist, moved into a high-rise apartment in Islamabad’s Blue Area. Tower 7, Eighth Floor, Unit 803. Clean, modern, and eerily quiet. Just what she needed to rebuild.

But from the very first night, something felt… wrong.

A whisper outside her bedroom. A faint knock when no one was there. The light in the bathroom flickering exactly at 2:13 a.m. daily.

She blamed her imagination. Stress. Trauma. Anything — until her neighbor across the hall, Dr. Adeel, approached her.

“Have you started hearing them yet?” he asked, eyes hollow.

II. The Vanishing Tenant

She learned that her flat had been empty for five years.

The previous tenant? A young woman named Nashwa, also divorced. A software developer. One day she stopped showing up for work. Her belongings were still there. Door locked from inside. No signs of break-in. Police listed it as a missing person’s case. Eventually closed.

Amna researched Nashwa’s case. Her last message to her sister read:
"The voices keep getting louder. Especially the girl. She cries every night."

Amna, too, now heard weeping — usually from the walls. And every time she opened the kitchen cabinet, she smelled rose attar… mixed with burnt plastic.

III. The Black Journal

Behind the wardrobe, she discovered a thin, black diary.

Entries included:

  • “The child in the vents knows everything. She watches.”
  • “Adeel won’t help. He says I’m imagining it. But he knows more.”
  • “Someone dies here every seven years.”
  • “803 was never meant to be sold.”

When she showed the journal to Dr. Adeel, he turned pale. “That’s not Nashwa’s writing,” he whispered. “It’s been found in two other units. Same ink. Same handwriting. But no one knows who wrote it.”

IV. The Voices Escalate

Amna set up audio recorders overnight. Playback revealed a girl's faint voice saying:
"Amna apa… please don't leave me here."

She checked the maintenance logs. In 1998, the building had a fire on the eighth floor. One child died, trapped inside a duct system while hiding. No one could reach her.

The apartment?
803.

V. Trapped

As Amna tried to move out, her keys vanished. The door jammed. The lift refused to stop on her floor.

A maintenance worker died falling from the service shaft the next day. When his phone was recovered, the last image was… Amna sleeping in bed — taken from above.

She hadn't given anyone access.

That night, the power went out.

In the dark, the girl’s voice echoed from the vents:
"You replaced her. You’re mine now."

VI. The Disappearance

A week later, Amna’s editor reported her missing. Dr. Adeel told the police she’d mentioned "moving to Karachi." But her phone, laptop, and bag were all in the apartment.

The CCTV camera outside 803 recorded nothing — no one entering or leaving for five days.

The building maintenance team insists the unit is now empty. But residents on the ninth floor still report crying, and in the lobby, sometimes they hear a woman shouting:
"Let me out! I’m still here!"

🌐 Read more such eerie tales only at

👉 themindscope1.blogspot.com

🧠 For those who dare to explore the shadows of the mind.


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