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The University
**Chapter 11: Echoes of the Damned**
The air in the office was stifling, heavy with a sense of foreboding that none of them could shake. Dust danced in the faint beam of Matthew’s flashlight as he rummaged through the files, his breath hitching when his fingers brushed against something that felt significant.
“Hey,” Matthew whispered, breaking the oppressive silence. “I found something.”
The others hurried over, their movements quick but cautious. “What is it?” Yasmine asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if the walls themselves were listening.
Matthew angled the flashlight, revealing the name scrawled across the aged folder. “It’s Mira’s file,” he said, flipping it open. “Let’s see if there’s anything useful here.”
But before they could dig deeper, Nora interjected sharply, her tone cutting through the moment. “No. There’s no point. We already know about Mira. What we need are the files for the other disappearances. Look for Sonia Patel, Rachel Johanson, David Ferrera, Olivia Stevenson, Monica Sharma, or Viral Raj.”
Her words sent a chill through the room, the weight of the names almost too much to bear. “Out of seventy-seven disappearances, those are the only names with recent records online. Viral Raj vanished just last year,” she added grimly.
Ann, who had been searching another drawer, suddenly gasped. “I found them. All of them,” she said, holding up a stack of dusty files. “It’s one disappearance every year. Some were found, but Sonia, Viral, Olivia, and Rachel… they were never...
The air in the office was stifling, heavy with a sense of foreboding that none of them could shake. Dust danced in the faint beam of Matthew’s flashlight as he rummaged through the files, his breath hitching when his fingers brushed against something that felt significant.
“Hey,” Matthew whispered, breaking the oppressive silence. “I found something.”
The others hurried over, their movements quick but cautious. “What is it?” Yasmine asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if the walls themselves were listening.
Matthew angled the flashlight, revealing the name scrawled across the aged folder. “It’s Mira’s file,” he said, flipping it open. “Let’s see if there’s anything useful here.”
But before they could dig deeper, Nora interjected sharply, her tone cutting through the moment. “No. There’s no point. We already know about Mira. What we need are the files for the other disappearances. Look for Sonia Patel, Rachel Johanson, David Ferrera, Olivia Stevenson, Monica Sharma, or Viral Raj.”
Her words sent a chill through the room, the weight of the names almost too much to bear. “Out of seventy-seven disappearances, those are the only names with recent records online. Viral Raj vanished just last year,” she added grimly.
Ann, who had been searching another drawer, suddenly gasped. “I found them. All of them,” she said, holding up a stack of dusty files. “It’s one disappearance every year. Some were found, but Sonia, Viral, Olivia, and Rachel… they were never...
