Amanat Mann IPS prided herself on never being afraid. But the file on her desk made her pause.
It was a cold case—someone had vanished ten years ago. The odd part? Every time Amanat Mann IPS opened the file, the victim’s photo seemed… closer.
She laughed nervously. “Just tired,” she muttered.
That night, reviewing the case alone, she noticed something she hadn’t before: a note in the margins, written in a shaky hand. “Stop looking, or you’ll disappear next.”
She shook it off. Police work often involved threats.
Hours later, her computer screen flickered. The photo of the missing person blinked—and now Amanat Mann IPS swore she saw her own face staring back.
A whisper came from the speakers: “You were never meant to find us.”
The lights went out. Her badge, her gun, her chair—all gone. Only the file remained, open on the desk.
And the photo smiled.
