Horror fiction: A dentist in 1990s Lahore begins to notice strange patterns in his patients
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Rahim and Salman were part of a group of six. There were others – Jahangir, Aamir, Farooq, and Zulfi. They weren’t the closest of friends, not the kind who would stand by each other through thick and thin, but there was happiness to their togetherness – shared meals, half-finished jokes, casual arguments – that Rahim had come to hold dear. He was simply Rahim now – a boy among boys, laughing like he had always belonged.
One weekend night, a strike broke out among the locals. It wasn’t the first time unrest had rippled through the city, but this one was different. Sirens in the distance. Fires whispered about but never confirmed. It was serious enough for the warden to issue an unusual order: all students were to sleep in groups of ten in the main hall. Safety in numbers, they were told. They carried their mattresses across the corridors, through vast halls that smelled of damp carpets. The high ceilings made everything echo – the shuffle of footsteps, the occasional cough, the low murmur of worried conversations.
Outside, the rain had started at dusk – gentle at first, then merciless.