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Untold stories

Hidden within forgotten pages, buried beneath time’s weight, lie the untold stories—whispers of the past waiting to be heard. Some stories are lost, some are erased, and some are deliberately hidden, locked away in dusty journals, abandoned houses, or the memories of those too afraid to speak. But secrets have a way of resurfacing. In Untold Stories, the past collides with the present, drawing unsuspecting souls into a mystery that was never meant to be uncovered. Whether it’s a forgotten letter, a ghostly whisper, or an ancient betrayal, these stories demand to be told. Because the truth, no matter how deeply buried, always finds a way back.

Feb 8, 2025  |   2 min read

A J

Anish Carmel J
Untold stories
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The train station was nearly empty when Aarav arrived. A thick mist rolled over the tracks, swallowing the dim glow of the lanterns. His hands trembled as he clutched the old leather journal in his coat pocket. He had found it just yesterday, hidden beneath the floorboards of his late grandfather's study.

Inside, the pages were filled with ink-stained words, names he didn't recognize, and stories that seemed too real to be fiction. But what unsettled him most was the last entry, dated twenty years ago.

"Aarav will find this when the time is right. The past is waiting."

His grandfather had died when Aarav was a child. He had no memory of him, only faded photographs and stories his mother used to tell. But something about the journal felt urgent, as if it had been left for him to discover at this exact moment.

He flipped through the pages as the wind howled through the station. One entry stood out.

"Meet me at Midnight. Platform 3. You'll understand everything."

Aarav's breath hitched. Platform 3 was abandoned. The tracks had been closed for years after an accident no one in town spoke about.

Yet, something compelled him to go.

He stepped onto the platform. Silence hung heavy in the air. Then, faintly, the sound of a train whistle pierced the fog. The ground trembled. Headlights appeared in the distance, cutting through the darkness.

Aarav's mind screamed that it was impossible - no trains had run this route in decades. But as the train pulled in, its doors opened with a slow hiss.

A shadowy figure stood inside.

Aarav's pulse raced. His fingers tightened around the journal.

The figure stepped forward, and under the flickering light, Aarav saw a face he had only seen in old photographs.

His grandfather.

Smiling, as if he had been waiting all along.

"It's time to know the untold stories, Aarav."

The train whistle blew again.

And the world faded to black.

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