Whispers Beneath the Backwaters - The Crying Below - Part 3

 The crying did not stop.

It echoed faintly through the wooden floorboards.

A woman sobbing somewhere beneath the house.

Arjun rushed downstairs, breathing hard. The lantern shook in his hand as shadows twisted across the walls.

Devika stood near the prayer shelf, terrified.

“Where were you?!”

Before he could answer, Meenu looked toward the floor and whispered softly—

“She’s under us.”

The crying suddenly became louder.

Not outside.

Not upstairs.

Directly below the hall.

Kuttappan immediately began chanting prayers under his breath.

“Don’t listen to it,” he warned. “If it calls your name… don’t answer.”

Arjun snapped.

“What is happening in this house?!”

Nobody answered.

Rain lashed the windows violently. The old grandfather clock struck midnight.

Dong…

Dong…

Dong…

At the twelfth strike, the crying stopped.

Complete silence.

Then—

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Three slow knocks came from under the floor.

Meenu climbed down from the chair quietly.

“Achaa… someone wants to come out.”

Devika pulled her back instantly.

“Enough!”

The little girl suddenly started crying.

Not loudly.

Softly.

Like someone heartbroken.

“Mummy… she says she’s cold.”

Arjun knelt beside his daughter.

“Who says?”

Meenu pointed toward the kitchen corridor.

“The amma with long hair.”

Kuttappan’s face turned pale again.

“No child should see her this early…” he muttered.

Arjun grabbed him angrily.

“You know something. Tell me now.”

The old servant hesitated for several seconds before speaking.

“Years ago… before you were born… there was another family living here.”

Lightning flashed across the hall.

“They had a little daughter. During monsoon season, the child disappeared.”

Meenu listened silently.

“The mother searched for weeks. People said she stopped eating… stopped sleeping… then one night she jumped into the backwaters behind this house.”

Devika whispered, “That’s just a story.”

Kuttappan slowly shook his head.

“They found the mother’s body.”

He paused.

“But never the child.”

The lantern flickered violently.

From somewhere upstairs came the sound of tiny feet running again.

Meenu suddenly smiled through tears.

“She found me.”

The room became ice cold.

Arjun turned sharply toward the staircase.

A little girl stood there.

Around Meenu’s age.

Wet hair covering half her face.

Holding a cloth doll.

Water dripped from her white dress onto the wooden steps.

Devika gasped.

The child slowly lifted her head.

Her eyes were completely black.

Then she pointed toward the back of the house.

Toward the flooded backyard leading to the dark backwaters.

And vanished.

At the same moment, the main door creaked open by itself.

Cold wind rushed inside.

From outside came a familiar lullaby.

Sung by many voices together.

Women.

Children.

Whispering through the rain.

Meenu began walking toward the open door.

Barefoot.

Smiling.

“Amma is waiting near the water…”