A bone-chilling draft snaked through the rented flat in Delhi, a stark contrast to the stifling summer heat. The only relief came from the balcony, a narrow concrete ledge overlooking a sight that sent shivers down my spine – a dilapidated house shrouded in an unnatural darkness. It had been abandoned for years, a skeletal silhouette against the dying embers of the city's twilight. One night, returning from a particularly grueling business meeting, I glanced at the house as if compelled by an unseen force. My breath caught in my throat. A young girl, no older than fifteen, stood silhouetted against the moonlit sky, her white dress billowing in the non-existent breeze. Panic clawed at my throat. This deserted house, this spectral figure – it couldn't be real. "Who's there?" I croaked, my voice hoarse in the oppressive silence. "What are you doing there?" The words tumbled out, desperate and disjointed. But before I could finish my question, a ...
This site comprises of "2minhorrorstories", true experiences of horror, supernatural, dark magic experienced by individuals like you and me, in and around rural areas. Short Stories narrated by your grandparents, your parents, your uncle, your distant cousin, your hostel warden, your building's security guard, your childhood friends, while standing in the parking lot, while covered in warm quilt during a cold winter night, or while drinking warm tea standing in the corner of the market street.