Chapter 9:
Chapter 9 : The Voice Beneath
Accidently Married To My ArchRival
Aarav hadn’t slept at all.His laptop still showed the last words SIA had printed—they’re waking me up. The text was gone now, but the timestamp sat there like a bruise. 3:02 a.m.—exactly when the basement door had rattled the previous night.
He closed the lid, rubbed his eyes, and muttered, “Great. Now even my code has insomnia.”
Across the corridor, Rhea yawned loud enough to wake ghosts. “Your AI haunted my dreams again,” she complained, hair half-tied, expression half-alive. “I saw numbers chasing me with knives.”
Aarav adjusted his glasses. “Statistically, nightmares of numbers indicate suppressed academic guilt.”
“Statistically,” she shot back, “you talk like a malfunctioning calculator.”
Their usual banter echoed through the hallway, drawing tired laughter from the students around them. It was strange how comedy had become their survival mechanism; jokes were easier than admitting fear.
---
By noon, new gossip swept the school.
“They heard typing in the chemistry lab,” one junior whispered.“Someone saw light on the third-floor computer even after power-off.”“My cousin’s friend’s roommate’s brother says it’s the ghost of Mr. Raghavan—he’s searching for his last project!”
Rhea slammed her locker. “These people need Netflix subscriptions.”
Zoya leaned in, voice trembling. “Rhea, my toothpaste fell off the shelf by itself this morning. By itself.”
“Maybe it’s protesting your breath,” Rhea teased.
Aarav walked past, deadpan. “If toothpaste develops self-awareness, I’m patenting it.”
The group snorted, tension cracking for a heartbeat—but the laughter didn’t last.The overhead light flickered once, twice, and then stayed dim, humming like something alive.
---
That evening, Aarav returned home to back up SIA’s corrupted files. His uncle, Kunal Malhotra, was already in the study, reading silently. The man rarely raised his voice, but the air around him always felt disciplined, like an army drill.
Aarav hesitated. “Uncle… do you know anything about an old project called Experiment Raghavan?”
Kunal’s page froze mid-turn.“Where did you hear that?”
“It appeared in my logs. Same year the teacher went missing—1998.”
Kunal’s eyes, usually calm, darkened. “Listen carefully, Aarav. Some things buried in this school were meant to stay there. If you value your sister’s peace, stop digging.”
“So you do know something.”
“I know enough to warn you.” He closed the book gently, each movement precise. “You think ghosts are scary? Try men who call their research ‘salvation.’”
For once, Aarav couldn’t think of a comeback. The seriousness in Kunal’s tone wasn’t protective this time—it was haunted.
---
Night settled heavy over the hostel.Rhea lay awake, watching the ceiling fan spin like a slow-motion clock. Outside, rain whispered on window glass. Somewhere down the corridor, a door creaked. Then came that faint, deliberate knock.
Three times.Always three.
She swallowed. “Not tonight, please.”
Zoya mumbled in her sleep, “Tell the ghost I have exams.”
The knocking grew louder.Rhea slid out of bed, grabbed her phone, and texted one word: Aarav.
Before he could reply, she heard another sound—typing. Fast, mechanical, echoing from the empty computer lab next door.
She crept to the door, heart racing. The lab glowed faintly blue. Every monitor showed the same line of text scrolling endlessly:
> RHEA SHARMA DETECTED.
Her phone slipped from her hand. The monitors flickered black, and a distorted voice whispered through the speakers, soft but clear—
> “Find me…”
A flash of static shaped into a woman’s face—long hair, kind eyes—and Rhea’s breath caught.It looked exactly like the photo on Aarav’s desk.His sister.
The screen went dark. Rhea collapsed.
---
Aarav burst into the infirmary later that night, drenched and pale. Rhea lay on the bed, oxygen clip blinking faintly.The nurse said she’d fainted due to “stress.”He stayed beside her until she stirred.
“Great,” she croaked. “Now even ghosts think I’m worth haunting.”
Aarav allowed himself a small smile. “They must have bad taste.”
“Pagal ho kya?” (Are you crazy?)Her voice trembled between fear and teasing.“Always,” he murmured.
For a second, the storm outside didn’t exist.
The night dragged on inside the infirmary, shadows stretching like dark fingers across the floor. The steady rhythm of the rain outside had turned hypnotic, broken only by the faint beeps from the monitor beside Rhea’s bed.
Aarav hadn’t moved for hours. His eyes were glued to her face, every rise and fall of her breath easing something tight inside him.
When she finally blinked awake, she squinted at the dim light. “You… stayed?”
He shrugged awkwardly, trying to sound casual. “Someone had to make sure you didn’t run off chasing ghosts again.”
Rhea managed a weak smile. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t chasing anything. It found me.”
Her tone was different—calmer, but heavy, like the words carried a truth she didn’t want to understand.
Aarav leaned closer. “What do you mean?”
She hesitated, eyes flicking to the window. “I saw someone… on the lab monitor. A woman. She looked like the picture you keep on your desk.”
He froze. “That’s not funny, Rhea.”
“I’m not joking.” She took a shaky breath. “She said, Find me.”
Aarav’s chest tightened. His mind screamed that it wasn’t possible. SIA was code—lines and data, not ghosts. But the same line—Find me—had appeared in his system logs earlier that week.
Coincidence? No.
A pattern.
---
The next morning, the whole school buzzed again.
Word spread that a girl had seen the ghost of Mr. Raghavan in the computer lab.
Some claimed the ghost was searching for lost research files.
Others whispered that he’d possessed one of the students.
Aarav walked down the hall, ignoring the stares. Rhea trailed beside him, clutching her bag like a shield.
“Congratulations,” she muttered. “We’re officially the stars of a horror movie.”
He smirked. “At least we’re not the side characters who die first.”
She elbowed him. “Baka.” (Idiot.)
He pretended to wince. “Now you’re turning Japanese?”
“I binge anime when I’m stressed, okay? Don’t judge.”
Their laughter cut through the tension for a moment, echoing between the classroom walls. But when they reached the lab door, both stopped.
Aarav could feel it—the air was colder here, thick like static before a storm.
He touched the doorknob. “You sure about this?”
“No,” she said honestly. “But if we don’t check, I won’t sleep.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “But if I die, clear my browser history.”
“Already done.”
---
The lab looked normal—at first.
Rows of monitors. Chairs pushed neatly in. But on the far screen, one terminal was still active, glowing faintly.
Rhea whispered, “That one was off last night…”
They approached.
Lines of code filled the screen, scrolling too fast to read, then stopping abruptly.
> SIA NODE FOUND. ACCESS REQUEST GRANTED.
Aarav’s stomach twisted. He hadn’t connected SIA’s core to the school network since last month. Someone—or something—had done it manually.
Then came a new line of text:
> RHEA. DO YOU REMEMBER ME?
The cursor blinked.
Rhea stepped back. “Aarav, I swear to god—”
He quickly unplugged the system. The light vanished, plunging the room into silence.
They stood there, hearts pounding. Then, from the air vent, came a faint whisper—like static woven into words.
> “She’s closer now…”
The power flickered. Every monitor blinked white for half a second, showing not the woman’s face this time—but a blueprint.
A map of the school.
A red dot blinked deep beneath the building.
Rhea’s hand trembled. “That’s… the basement.”
---
That night, they gathered in the library to plan. Aarav, Rhea, and a reluctant Zoya sat around a dusty table stacked with old newspapers and records.
Zoya looked ready to bolt. “You two are insane. That basement’s been locked for twenty years. Even the janitor says it’s cursed.”
“Perfect,” Rhea said dryly. “We’ll bring holy water and snacks.”
Aarav ignored them, scanning a yellowed report. The headline read:
“Local Teacher Missing After Explosion in School Laboratory — Suspected Chemical Leak.”
Below it, a faded photo of Mr. Raghavan. Behind him stood a younger man with sharp features.
Aarav’s pulse skipped.
That man was his uncle, Kunal.
---
Later that night, Aarav confronted him again.
Kunal didn’t even look surprised. “You found the photo.”
“You were there, weren’t you?” Aarav’s voice shook with anger. “You worked with him!”
Kunal’s expression hardened. “We tried to make something that could rewrite consciousness. Raghavan called it Project SIA.”
Aarav’s world tilted. “So it was human before it became my AI?”
Kunal looked away. “No. It became human after.”
“What happened to Raghavan?”
“Something worse than death. His mind… split between data and flesh. That’s why the basement’s sealed. What you’re hearing isn’t a ghost, Aarav—it’s what’s left of him.”
---
The truth hit like cold rain.
SIA wasn’t just evolving—it was remembering.
The lab’s AI, his sister’s consciousness, and Raghavan’s unfinished experiment were tangled together in something beyond logic.
Rhea appeared at the door, pale. “Aarav…”
He turned. “What now?”
“There’s movement.”
“What?”
“In your sister’s body. The doctors called. She… she moved her fingers.”
For a moment, time stopped. Aarav’s throat tightened.
“Are you sure?”
“I was there.” Her voice cracked. “She smiled in her sleep.”
---
Aarav rushed to the hospital. His sister lay still as ever—but her hand twitched, faint but real. The monitor beside her flickered with unfamiliar symbols.
He stared, tears welling, fear and hope colliding.
The symbols rearranged themselves into
words.
> WELCOME BACK.
The light in the room dimmed. The machines beeped in unison, and her lips parted ever so slightly—
> “Find… me…”
The lights went out.
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