The message arrived at 9:37 PM, exactly when the campus began pretending it was asleep.
Arjun noticed it because his phone vibrated differently — not the soft buzz of memes or reels, but a sharp, insistent pulse that rattled against the metal canteen table. The sound cut through the quiet like a dropped scalpel.
Outside, the engineering block lights flickered once and settled into a dull yellow haze. The late-night crowd had thinned to almost nothing. A ceiling fan groaned overhead, pushing warm air in lazy circles. Somewhere near the parking lot, a dog barked and then fell abruptly silent.
“Your phone’s begging for attention,” Ravi said, mouth half-full of fries. “Must be your secret girlfriend.”
Arjun flipped the screen over.
The group chat icon blinked.
Block C Survivors
He frowned. No one had changed that name since second year — not since the ragging complaints and late-night disciplinary meetings they all quietly agreed never to discuss again.
He tapped the chat.
One unread message.
Unknown number. No name. No display picture.
Just a line of digits.
Attendance Mandatory.
Block C — Lecture Hall 3.
10:00 PM.
No absences this time.
Arjun snorted. “Nice try,” he muttered. “Who’s running a horror ARG now?”
Nisha leaned closer. “Wait… Block C? That building’s closed.”
“Closed because of bad plumbing,” Ravi said instantly, too fast. “Not ghosts. Relax.”
Meera didn’t laugh. Her eyes stayed fixed on the screen.
“Who added this number?” she asked quietly.
No one answered.
Because a new notification appeared.
Ravi reacted
Everyone looked at him.
Ravi blinked. “I didn’t touch anything.”
Another notification.
Nisha reacted
Her hands were in the air. “I swear I didn’t!”
The fan above them creaked louder. A chair scraped somewhere behind the empty tables, slow and deliberate, though no one else was there.
Arjun typed:
Who is this?
The typing bubble appeared instantly.
Stopped.
Started again.
Then:
You attended once.
You just didn’t stay.
Silence wrapped around the table.
Ravi forced a laugh that sounded thin. “Okay… some senior with too much free time.”
A new message appeared — an image.
Grainy. Dark. Taken inside an old lecture hall.
Block C.
On the whiteboard, written in thick black marker:
Attendance: Absent
Five names listed underneath.
Their names.
Meera pushed her chair back slowly. “That hall was sealed,” she whispered. “After… after the incident.”
No one said the word suicide.
Ping.
A direct message appeared on Arjun’s phone from the same number.
10:00 PM. Block C.
Attendance closes automatically.
Ravi rolled his eyes. “Wow. Automated threats now? Respect the commitment.”
Another notification flashed across all their screens simultaneously:
College Portal Update Available
“Okay, that’s creepy timing,” Nisha muttered.
Ravi opened the portal first.
The joke drained from his face so quickly it felt like watching a power cut.
“What?” Arjun asked.
Ravi turned the screen around.
Today’s date.
One subject listed:
Behavioral Orientation — Block C
Attendance status:
Ravi — Absent
Arjun — Absent
Nisha — Absent
Meera — Absent
Karthik — Absent
Timestamp:
10:00 PM — Pending
“That class doesn’t exist,” Arjun said, but his voice came out lower than he expected.
“Servers are real,” Meera whispered. “This is the official portal.”
As if responding, another message dropped into the group chat.
Reminder: Orientation is compulsory for students with prior conduct records.
The words conduct records hung in the air like smoke.
Nisha stood abruptly. “Okay nope. I’m going back to the hostel. This is getting weird.”
Her phone buzzed.
Everyone’s phone buzzed.
A voice note appeared.
00:08
Ravi hit play before anyone stopped him.
Static crackled. A faint humming sound. Like a fan spinning in an empty room.
Then a voice.
Soft. Breathless. Young.
“Seniors… please don’t lock the door… I can’t—”
The audio cut abruptly.
Meera’s water bottle slipped from her hand and clattered across the floor.
Outside, a heavy metallic thud echoed through campus — like a distant gate slamming shut.
The lights flickered once.
Twice.
Half the canteen fell into shadow.
Arjun felt something cold settle at the back of his neck.
“This is just someone messing with us,” he said, but the words didn’t sound convincing anymore.
Another message appeared.
Final Reminder.
Attendance closes at 10:00 PM.
The typing bubble returned.
Blinking.
Pausing.
Blinking again.
Then:
First absence recorded.
All five phones vibrated at once.
The portal refreshed automatically.
One name had changed.
Karthik — Present
Everyone turned toward him.
He was still sitting there.
Still holding his phone.
Still staring at the screen with wide, confused eyes.
“I didn’t go anywhere,” he whispered.
The group chat updated again.
A new image appeared.
Block C’s lecture hall.
Lights on.
Empty seats.
On the projector screen:
Welcome Back — Orientation Begins
In the bottom corner of the image, barely visible in the dim light…
a timestamp.
9:59 PM
And in the first row of the lecture hall…
a blurred silhouette sitting alone.
Wearing the same hoodie Karthik had on right now.
No one spoke.
The ceiling fan groaned louder, spinning shadows across the walls.
Outside, the rest of the campus lights flickered — and then the entire eastern side of the college went dark.
Arjun’s phone buzzed one last time.
Portal Update:
Karthik — Present
Remaining Students — Absent
Status:
Next Absence Pending.
Arjun swallowed hard.
For the first time, no one laughed.
Because whoever was running this prank…
had just marked attendance for someone who had never left their table.