Title: The Last Light in Kalibazar

In the small riverside town of Kalibazar, the streets emptied as soon as the sun touched the horizon. Not because of crime or superstition, but because of the light.

It wasn’t the warm glow of lamps. No—this was a single, white, pulsating light that appeared on the roof of the abandoned Mukherjee Mansion every night at exactly 7:15.

Nobody dared go near. People claimed they could hear faint whispers in the air when it appeared, as if the wind itself was talking.

One evening, Anik, a young photographer, decided he needed to see it for himself. Armed with his camera and a stubborn curiosity, he reached the mansion before dusk. The house was old—walls cracked, roof sagging, windows like hollow eyes.

At 7:14, nothing happened. Just the sound of the river.

At 7:15, the light appeared. Bright. Blinding. And… moving. It wasn’t coming from the roof—it was coming toward him.

Anik froze. The light stopped just inches from his face. Then, for a moment, it formed into the shape of a young woman. Pale. Sad.

“You’re the first one to come,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’ve been waiting… for someone to finish my story.”

Before Anik could speak, the light vanished, leaving his camera on the ground—its last photo showing her face, clearer than daylight.

The next morning, the townsfolk were shocked to see that the Mukherjee Mansion was gone. In its place was nothing but an empty patch of land, as if it had never existed.

Only Anik knew the truth… and he wasn’t telling.

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