Meena had always been drawn to helping. Since childhood, she'd had a knack for helping almost everyone with everything, a gift she took with her from the crowded alleys of Delhi to the quiet forests surrounding her college in Germany. Her friends used to joke that her love for helping anyone without giving it a second thought would land her in trouble one day, but she brushed it off. The truth was, her life had never been entirely ordinary—not since the possession.
When Meena was eight, she began hearing voices—not the kind that haunted dark corners, but soft whispers, barks, and chirps that seemed to carry meaning. The stray dogs on her street spoke to her, their howls becoming words in her mind, their glances messages only she could understand. Birds on her windowsill told her secrets in a language that no one else could hear. She’d laugh and talk back, her voice filled with excitement, as if they were her closest friends. But her parents were terrified.
They caught her crouched by the gate, murmuring to street dogs in a language that wasn't quite human. When she told them that the neighborhood strays warned her about the man down the street or that the birds in the tree above had told her about an approaching storm, they thought she was losing her mind.. So a local tantric had been called in, and a cleansing ritual was performed, and though her parents believed she was "cured," Meena never quite felt the same. She still at times could understand animals but only to a certain extent.
But on one misty evening, as she walked home from her forensics lab, she found herself drawn to a huge, injured dog huddled by the side of the road. It was unlike any stray she’d seen before. Its coat was rough, patches of fur missing, and its eyes—oddly human, too intelligent—stared into her with a quiet intensity. Despite the unsettling feeling it gave her, Meena’s heart softened. She took it, whispering soothing words, and brought it back to the cottage she shared with her boyfriend and her golden Labrador, Mike whom she'd share everything with.
Her plan was simple: nurse the dog back to health, then contact a shelter. Yet, each day she kept it, things got stranger. The dog rarely slept, pacing the small living room in slow, deliberate circles, staring at her from the shadows and she also couldn't interact with the stray just like she could with her own dog, Mike, that dog couldn't speak to her just like the other animals did. It barely ate, and when it did, it seemed to mimic human movements—hands that were paws bringing food to a mouth. But that was ridiculous, she told herself. She chalked it up to stress, her imagination running wild. After all, she was miles away from home and family. And that feeling—the one she'd known since childhood, that familiar, lurking presence—seemed to creep closer with each passing day.
One night, her boyfriend was out late, leaving her alone with the dogs. She sat curled up on the couch, reading, the house falling silent around her. That’s when the lights flickered once, then died completely. The darkness swallowed her, thick and oppressive. She called out, thinking Mike might come to her side for comfort. But there was nothing.
Then, in the dim, cold light of the moon, she saw a shadow on the floor—a tall, hulking figure standing directly behind her, casting a long shadow across the room. Heart pounding, she turned slowly, her breath hitching as the shape of the “dog” began to stretch, contort, and grow. It wasn’t a dog at all. It was a man, crouched down, his eyes glinting with malice.
The realization hit her like a lightning bolt—it was Mark, her boyfriend’s brother. Mark, who had always watched her with a strange intensity, who had disappeared without a trace two years ago. And now here he was, twisted, deranged, and hiding beneath the guise of an animal.
He leaned down, a sinister smile spreading across his face as he whispered, “I’ve missed you, Meena.”
Before she could scream and fight, his hand was on her throat, squeezing, dragging her into the cold, suffocating dark. She was puzzled to see her bestfriend and her boyfriend's brother to appear so suddenly and that too with not a good motive. He asphyxiated her to the point her body turned as cold as ice and her face turning blue, due to the lack of blood flowing to her brain. She died a bewildered death, her last thoughts being how she should've listened to her sixth sense about not nursing the dog back to it's health.
Hours later, her boyfriend returned to an empty, silent house. As he stepped inside, he saw Mike laying in a pool of blood, his lifeless eyes staring at him from across the room. And beside Mike, in the darkness, was a man, cloaked in the shadows, with a faint, twisted smile on his face, waiting, and saying "Hello, Brother"