The Game of Satanic Hallucination

As soon as Rishabh and Bikiran entered the office, their boss, Mr. Srikanta Shikdar, handed Rishabh a mountain of work; the auditors would be arriving tomorrow morning to review the details. Both of them worked as junior clerks in a private IT company. Although Rishabh didn’t enjoy the job, he had to endure it to support his lower-middle-class family.

At home,Rishabh had his elderly father and a mentally challenged sister, Rekha. Her medications were expensive, and on top of that, there were home EMI payments to manage. Rishabh never really had his mother close to him; she had left his father when Rishabh was only five to start another family, leaving him with a deep-seated resentment. Most of the time, he worried about his sister—who would ever marry the poor girl?

On the other hand, Bikiran lived with his mother, brother, and paternal aunt; his family was financially well-off.

Rishabh and Bikiran were like two bodies with one soul, even though their friendship was only a year old.

Rishabh and Bikiran met during their job interviews, but back then, they hadn't realized how grueling this work would be. Most of their time was spent hunched over documents and computer screens, always under the threat of the boss’s sharp tongue if things went south. However, there was a silver lining: Rishabh had been promoted two days ago, though Bikiran’s promotion was still stalled.

Rishabh loosened his tie. Today, he had to prepare twenty reports, transfer them to files, and then print them out for the auditor.

Time flew, and it was soon 8:00 PM. Gradually, other employees began leaving for home. Only Rishabh and Bikiran remained in their section.

"How many files are left, boss?" Bikiran asked.

"Bruh, I still have seven files to go. Don’t wait for me; go home. I’ll just stay at the staff quarters tonight. I have to finish this."

"Your father and sister might be waiting."

"I’ve already informed them. So, no worries."

Just then, Rajesh Kaka, the elderly peon, walked in with two cups of tea. Rishabh was startled and asked, "You haven't gone home yet, Kaka? And how did you even know we were still here?"

Handing them the tea, Rajesh Kaka said in an irritated tone, "I brought tea. Just drink it quietly. You’re barely out of diapers and yet so inquisitive!"

As he turned to leave, he stopped. Without looking back, he whispered in a hissing voice, "The Devil is roaming about. Once night falls, he comes out to hunt. Today, he will find fresh meat... he will quench his thirst with raw blood." He let out an incoherent laugh and walked away.

The two friends sat in stunned silence, staring at each other. Though Rajesh Kaka’s words seemed like the ramblings of a madman, in that empty office, they were enough to send shivers down their spines.

After finishing the tea, Bikiran left for home. Now, Rishabh was alone in the office. The silence was terrifying—so deep that he could hear the faint drip-drip of a leaky tap in the distant washroom. Rishabh scanned the room and returned to his work. His head felt heavy, perhaps due to sheer exhaustion.

By the time he finished, it was 11:16 PM. His head had been throbbing ever since he drank that tea. He took some Britannia cake out of his bag and ate a little. Realizing his water bottle was empty, he headed toward the washroom.

As he approached, he heard the sound of rushing water. Strangely, from outside, it had sounded like a slow drip, but inside, the tap was wide open. Rishabh reached out and tightly shut the tap.

A sudden wave of dread washed over him. He had been working alone in this silent office—how had he not noticed this? Did the tap turn on by itself? Or was someone else in the office—someone invisible? Perhaps they had been there just moments ago and left the water running, or perhaps they were still there, watching him.

Despite the cold, Rishabh began to sweat. No, he told himself, I’m just overthinking Rajesh Kaka’s words. But the old man had never spoken like that before. Why today? Did he know Rishabh would be staying? Had he been eavesdropping on their conversation?

Rishabh couldn't find an answer. Suddenly, he saw a terrifying, shadowy figure staggering toward him from one of the urinal cubicles. A violent, sinister smile flashed on its face.

"Who's there?" Rishabh screamed in terror.

There was no answer, but the figure quickened its pace as if to snatch him. Rishabh bolted out of the washroom, running without looking back. He came to a halt in the main office. The lights were flickering rhythmically, as if the building itself wanted to swallow him whole. He ripped off his tie; he felt as though someone was strangling him. A chant echoed constantly in his ears: "Devil! Devil!"

He heard the sound of dragging footsteps. He ran again, his heart hammering against his ribs like a sledgehammer. He scrambled down the stairs, ran to the staff quarters, and slammed his door shut.

He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the bed, clutching his hair. What was happening? Why was his head spinning? This office was turning into a house of horrors. He fumbled for his phone and dialed Bikiran.

Bikiran was fast asleep. The ringing woke him up with a start. It was 1:00 AM.

"Why are you calling so late?" Bikiran groaned. "Don't you know civilized people..."

"Bruh... I don't think I'll be alive..."

"What happened to you? Why are you talking nonsense?"

Rishabh frantically described the events and begged Bikiran to come to the office. Bikiran, still annoyed, replied, "You worked too hard today. You didn't eat lunch or dinner properly. Just get some sleep; it’ll help. It’s just stress. You’ve locked the door, haven't you?"

Suddenly, the call cut off. Bikiran tried calling back several times, but he couldn't reach Rishabh.

Rishabh, eventually convincing himself it was all a hallucination, drifted into a heavy sleep.

He didn't know how long he slept, but he was jolted awake by a hideous, demonic laugh. A bat was circling above him. But what he saw next nearly stopped his heart. Standing a short distance from the bed was a figure that looked exactly like him—wearing the same clothes. But the entity had no eyeballs. A predatory grin stretched across its face.

The doppelgänger spoke in a piercing voice: "Now, I shall offer the Devil fresh meat and raw blood. It has been so long since I smelled the scent of blood. The Master will be pleased. Hail the Devil! Hail!"

The laughter echoed off the walls. The entity lunged at Rishabh, grabbing him and slamming him onto the floor. Rishabh shrieked in pain as the horrific creature pinned him down, sitting on his chest with that same violent grin.

The next morning, a cleaning lady arrived to sweep the stairs and let out a blood-curdling scream. Rishabh’s lifeless body lay near the stairwell. His throat was slit, a knife was driven into his stomach, and his face was frozen in a mask of pure terror, eyes wide open.

Right next to him lay a dead bat, its neck snapped.