I still remember the day I stepped into the crumbling halls of Rajiv Gandhi Engineering Hostel. The once-majestic building now stood as a haunting reminder of forgotten dreams. As I lugged my suitcase up the creaky stairs, the eerie silence was broken only by the sound of my own ragged breathing. I had heard the whispers, of course - everyone had. Whispers of ghostly apparitions, unexplained noises, and an unspeakable tragedy that had occurred within these very walls. But I didn't believe them. I never did. That was, until I met him - Rohan, the enigmatic senior who would change everything. His eyes seemed to hold a thousand secrets, and his smile could freeze your blood. We met in the dimly lit common room, where the air was thick with the smell of stale cigarettes and burned coffee. He extended a bony hand, his grip like a vice. "Welcome to hell," he said, his voice low and menacing. And with that, my descent into madness began. As we talked, the lights in the room began to flicker, and I felt an icy presence closing in around us. Suddenly, Rohan's expression turned grave, and he leaned in close. "You shouldn't be here," he whispered, his breath cold against my ear. "They're waiting for you." And just as I was about to ask who, the lights went out, plunging us into darkness. I was trapped, and I could feel eyes upon me. Then, I heard my name, whispered in a voice that was almost... familiar. "Aarav..." it called, the sound sending shivers down my spine. And as I turned to face the darkness, a faint whisper seemed to caress my skin: "We've been waiting..."