《Veil of the unseen》


 Introduction

    Jinns, ghosts, ghouls, vampires, and other supernatural creatures have long been regarded as classic figures of the occult, each embodying the fears, mysteries, and beliefs of their time. In the old ages, when science and technology were still in their infancy, we humans often turned to the supernatural to explain phenomena that seemed beyond comprehension. Strange illnesses, unexplainable deaths, mysterious sounds in the night, and even natural disasters were attributed to the workings of these otherworldly beings. These entities served as a means to personify the unknown, giving shape and form to the intangible fears that haunted the human mind.


    For example, jinns, believed to be invisible beings of fire, were thought to inhabit desolate places and were often blamed for sudden misfortunes or inexplicable events. Ghosts, on the other hand, represented the lingering spirits of the dead, embodying humanity''s struggles with mortality and the afterlife. Ghouls, with their association with graveyards and the consumption of human flesh, mirrored fears of desecration and the macabre. Vampires, seductive yet deadly, symbolized the anxieties surrounding death, disease, and forbidden desires.


    But most of these thing have logical explanation, like The chupacabra, which is a legendary creature in Latin American folklore, meaning "goat-sucker" in Spanish, comes from its alleged habit of attacking livestock, particularly goats, and draining their blood through small puncture wounds. Descriptions of the chupacabra vary, it is often depicted as either a reptilian creature with spines or quills along its back or a hairless, canine-like animal. The chupacabra is said to be nocturnal, stealthy, and predatory. They''d such their prays blood dry with it''s teeth. But in reality chupacabras are actually dogs or coyote-dog hybrids affected by mange, a disease that causes hair loss and a thick buildup of skin. Others have suggested that the chupacabra is a Xoloitzcuintle, or Mexican Hairless dog, which has large bat-like ears and a long neck.


    So these supernatural beings were not just products of fear but also served as cautionary tales, moral lessons, and even entertainment. They provided a framework for understanding the world and coping with the uncertainties of life. Over time, these entities became deeply ingrained in folklore, evolving with cultural shifts and continuing to capture the imagination of people across generations.


    As a guy who is doing masters in mathematics and living in 21th century i believed all these occult things are made up by our minds like religion to keep up in check.


    Yes i said believed....


    As a graduate student pursuing a master¡¯s degree in mathematics and living in the golden age of science, I prided myself on being a rational, logical thinker. Numbers, equations, and proofs were my tools for understanding the universe. I believed that all so-called occult phenomena¡ªghosts, cryptids, UFOs, spirits, and even religion¡ªwere nothing more than constructs of the human mind, created to provide comfort or control over the chaos of existence. To me, they were modern myths, no different from ancient gods or legends, designed to keep humanity in check.


    I openly mocked the idea of anything supernatural. Trinkets sold by charlatans, people who claimed they had seen ghosts or UFOs, and religious zealots preaching miracles¡ªnone of it held any weight for me. I saw myself as above such beliefs, standing firmly on the foundation of science and reason.


    My friends often teased me about my skepticism. They¡¯d share ghost stories or tales of haunted houses, hoping to get a reaction. I¡¯d laugh, roll my eyes, and counter their anecdotes with logical explanations. "It¡¯s just pareidolia," I¡¯d say when they described seeing faces in the dark. "Confirmation bias," I¡¯d argue when they claimed a psychic predicted their future. I was the guy who could take the magic out of any story, and I wore that badge proudly.


    I thought most of the people who have this types of tales are mentally disturbed or coping with emotions.


    And then, I met him.


    That day shattered the carefully constructed worldview I had built around myself. It wasn''t just a fleeting encounter or a misunderstanding, mental disorder. What I experienced defied all the logic and reason I had so stubbornly clung to. It wasn¡¯t something I could dismiss as coincidence or delusion. This wasn¡¯t a ghost story told by someone¡¯s grandmother, nor a blurry photograph of a UFO on the internet. It was real tangible, undeniable, and utterly terrifying.


    The encounter turned my beliefs upside down and sent me spiraling into questions I had never imagined asking. Was everything I had dismissed as superstition or fantasy actually rooted in some deeper truth? Was the universe far stranger than I had ever allowed myself to consider?


    I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll ever fully understand. But I do know one thing,the world is not as simple or rational as I once believed. Sometimes, the very things we dismiss as impossible come knocking on the door of reality. And when they do, they leave us forever changed.


    * ......2 months ago.....*


    It started like any other day. I had been working late in the university library, poring over complex equations for a thesis on chaos theory. Ironically, I thought I understood chaos better than most¡ªhow it could be modeled, predicted, and tamed with the right mathematical tools. But the chaos I encountered that night was something no equation could quantify.


    The burden of daily work to support myself and running errands for the professor under whom I¡¯m doing my thesis is making my life feel like hell.


    After my part time job the walk back to my dorm was uneventful. The streets were quiet, bathed in the dim orange glow of streetlights.


    It wasn¡¯t a dorm to be honest. The college dormitory was filled to capacity, and as a guy with a full-paid scholarship, I found myself in a bit of a unique situation. The university, unable to accommodate me in the dorms, arranged for me to live in a small apartment near the campus. It was a decent place..clean, spacious enough, and close to all the university facilities. The catch, however, was that I had to cover half of the expenses, while the university would take care of the other half.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    At first, it seemed like a fair deal, but as the months rolled by, I realized the cost of living was quickly adding up. Food, utilities, and maintenance started to weigh heavily on my budget. My scholarship covered my tuition, but the rest was on me, and I found myself constantly crunching numbers to make ends meet.


    After weeks of deliberation, I finally made a decision. The apartment, while cozy, was honestly too big for just one person. It had an extra bedroom, and I barely used the living room except for studying or eating. It felt wasteful to keep all that space to myself when I could be sharing it. More importantly, having a roommate would cut my living expenses in half, which would be a huge relief.


    So, I took the plunge. I sent an application to the university housing office, requesting a roommate. I made sure to specify that I wanted someone who was in the same boat as me¡ªpreferably another scholarship student or someone with a similar lifestyle. I didn¡¯t want any surprises or major personality clashes.


    A few days later, I got an email from the housing office confirming that they had found someone. They didn¡¯t share many details, only that the person would arrive soon and had been informed of the arrangement. I wasn¡¯t sure what to expect, but I hoped for the best.


    That brings me to today. I was sitting on the couch, flipping through a textbook, when I heard a knock at the door.


    This had to be my new roommate¡ªthe person the university had matched me with. I took a deep breath, stood up, and walked to the door. My hand hovered over the doorknob for a moment as I wondered what kind of person was waiting on the other side. Would they be friendly? Easy to get along with? Or would this be a complete disaster?


    With a final deep breath, thing already happened so there''s no turning back. I finally opened the door.


    The guy standing on the other side of the door was not what I had expected. He was shorter than me, probably around 5¡¯6¡± or 5¡¯7¡±. He had a full beard and thick hair, giving him a slightly rugged yet well-kept look. His complexion and features suggested he was a foreigner¡ªmaybe Middle Eastern or Arab. There was an air of confidence about him, though he didn¡¯t seem overly intimidating.


    I took the lead, as the old resident of the apartment, and broke the ice. ¡°You must be the guy the university sent,¡± I said, offering a polite smile.


    He nodded slightly, his expression neutral but polite.


    ¡°Ah, sorry, I almost forgot to introduce myself. I¡¯m Ted,¡± I added quickly, extending my hand for a handshake.


    The guy took my hand and shook it firmly. ¡°Name¡¯s Maaz,¡± he said, his voice carrying a slight accent. Then, with a small grin, he added, ¡°It means ¡®safe,¡¯ in case you were wondering. You know, like a safe place. Kind of ironic, huh?¡±


    I chuckled at his attempt to lighten the mood. ¡°Nice to meet you, Maaz. Come on in.¡±


    I led him into the apartment, gesturing toward the dining room as we walked. ¡°You must have traveled a lot to get here, so why don¡¯t you freshen up first? You¡¯ll probably feel better after washing off the day.¡±


    I pointed to the rooms as we passed them. ¡°This is my room,¡± I said, indicating the door on the left. ¡°And this one here is yours. It¡¯s empty for now, so you¡¯ll need to buy whatever you need tomorrow. For tonight, though, I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ll have to crash on the couch. Sorry about that¡ªit¡¯s just how things worked out.¡±


    Then I pointed to the door at the end of the hall. ¡°And that¡¯s the washroom. Feel free to use it.¡±


    Maaz didn¡¯t say much in response. He nodded, his eyes scanning the apartment as if he were taking in every detail. He walked slowly, his gaze lingering on the furniture, the walls, and even the small decorations I¡¯d put up to make the place feel homier. At first, I thought he was just getting a feel for his new living space. Maybe he was the type to analyze his surroundings, or maybe he had a touch of OCD. Either way, I didn¡¯t think much of it at the time.


    After scanning the room like a detective, his gaze locked onto something behind me. His eyes widened briefly, a flash of alarm crossing his face before he quickly composed himself, his expression returning to normal as if nothing had happened.


    Curiosity prickled at me, and I turned to glance over my shoulder, expecting to see something out of the ordinary. But there was nothing just the same mundane room I''ve been living for few months, with no apparent reason for such a reaction.


    What on earth could he have seen? My mind raced, trying to piece together his strange behavior. Was he imagining things, or was there something I missed? The way his demeanor shifted so quickly left me unsettled.


    "What the hell is this guy looking at?" I muttered under my breath, feeling a mix of unease and frustration as I turned back to face him. His calm facade only deepened the mystery, and I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that there was more to this moment than met the eye. I was about to ask him a question but without saying anything he carried his bags into his room, which was completely bare except for a bed frame and a small wardrobe. Without a word, he placed his things down and headed toward the washroom to freshen up.


    When he came back, he had changed into a casual t-shirt and sweatpants, looking much more relaxed than when he¡¯d first arrived. I was already sitting on the couch, flipping through channels on the TV. He joined me, sitting at the opposite end of the couch.


    ¡°So,¡± I started, turning to face him, ¡°how was the trip? Where are you from originally?¡±


    Maaz leaned back, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, as if he were still studying me. ¡°It was long,¡± he said simply. ¡°I¡¯m from Amman, Jordan. Ever been to the Middle East?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Nope. Closest I¡¯ve been is watching travel vlogs on YouTube. What¡¯s it like there?¡±


    He smiled faintly, his expression softening. ¡°It¡¯s different. Beautiful, in its own way. The history, the food, the people¡ªit¡¯s something you have to experience to really understand. But it¡¯s not all deserts and camels like some people think.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°Yeah, I figured as much. So, what are you studying here?¡±


    ¡°physich,¡± he replied. ¡°Specifically, astrophysics. And you?¡±


    ¡° mathematics,¡± I said. ¡°I guess we¡¯re both in fields that involve a lot of problem-solving.¡±


    He nodded, and for the first time, I noticed a flicker of amusement in his eyes. ¡°Yeah, I guess we are. So, tell me, Ted, what¡¯s the deal with this place? Anything I should know about living here?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s pretty straightforward. Quiet neighborhood, close to campus, decent amenities. Just don¡¯t expect a five-star experience. The walls are thin, so you might hear the neighbors sometimes. And the heating can be a little finicky in the winter, but nothing too bad.¡±


    He listened intently, nodding occasionally. The conversation flowed easily, and before I knew it, we were talking about everything from our favorite foods to our goals for the future.


    ¡°We¡¯ll divide everything by half,¡± I said as we continued our conversation. ¡°Rent, utilities, internet¡ªall the bills. But food expenses are separate. You¡¯ll handle your own groceries and meals, and I¡¯ll handle mine. That way, no one¡¯s stepping on anyone¡¯s toes.¡±


    Maaz nodded without hesitation. ¡°That¡¯s fine by me,¡± he replied, his tone calm and matter-of-fact.


    I leaned back on the couch, relieved that he wasn¡¯t going to make this arrangement complicated. ¡°Good. Glad we¡¯re on the same page. Makes things a lot easier, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    He gave a slight smile. ¡°Yeah, it does. I¡¯m not picky about stuff like this. As long as we¡¯re clear about the rules, I¡¯m good.¡±


    That straightforward response made me feel a little more optimistic about having a roommate. No drama, no fuss¡ªjust a simple agreement between two people trying to make things work. I could live with that.


    ¡°Well, I guess we¡¯re off to a good start,¡± I said, offering him a small grin. ¡°Let¡¯s see how long we can keep it that way.¡±


    Maaz chuckled softly. ¡°I¡¯ll do my part. Don¡¯t worry about that.¡±


    And just like that, we had laid the foundation for our living arrangement. Simple, fair, and hopefully drama-free.


    By the end of the night, I had a feeling that Maaz and I might actually get along. Sure, he was a bit reserved, but there was something about him that felt grounded and trustworthy. Maybe this roommate situation wouldn¡¯t be so bad after all.

 Proof

    I woke up in the middle of the night, heart beating like crazy, drenched in sweat. The nightmare had struck again. It¡¯s been haunting me ever since I moved here four, maybe five months now. Always the same dream. A dark, monstrous creature chases me through an endless forest. Its footsteps echo behind me, loud and relentless, as I sprint for my life. My lungs burn, my legs ache, but I can¡¯t stop running. Eventually, I¡¯m cornered, standing at the edge of a cliff with nowhere to go. Below me, a bottomless abyss, dark and devoid of any light. The creature jumps, and in sheer desperation, I leap into the void. That¡¯s when I wake up, gasping for air, the feeling of falling still gripping my chest.


    Three or four times a week, this same sequence plays out, leaving me shaken and sleep-deprived. I¡¯ve tried to rationalize it, to make sense of why my subconscious made this terrifying imagery. Most logical expansion is it¡¯s the stress. my thesis, work, university, life. All of it piling up like a weight I can¡¯t carry. The creature, represents my responsibilities, the things I¡¯m running from. The cliff? That¡¯s my stress, the overwhelming fear of failing, of not being able to handle everything. It¡¯s logical, right? But knowing doesn¡¯t make it any easier.


    "Fuck, I need to take a break," I muttered to myself. My throat was dry, and my nerves were tense. A beer sounded like the perfect antidote. I threw off the covers and shuffled to the living room.


    As I stepped into the room, I froze. Someone was sitting on the couch. My heart jumped into my throat, and for a brief, panicked moment, I thought I was still dreaming. But then my brain caught up, and I remembered.


    Maaz. The new roommate.


    He was sitting there, legs crossed, a book in his hands. The soft glow of a reading lamp illuminated his face, calm and focused. Quite a guy, I thought. Just moved in, and already he¡¯s deep into a book. It seems the university took my application word by word and send a guy as i described.


    I exhaled, shaking off the startle, and made my way to the fridge. Pulling out a cold beer, I turned to him and asked, "Do you want one?"


    He glanced up from his book, his expression neutral but polite. "Nah, man. I don¡¯t drink, but a soda would be great."


    "Oh, sorry," I said, feeling slightly awkward. I grabbed a soda from the fridge and tossed it to him. He caught it with ease, nodding his thanks.


    Popping open my beer, I took a long sip, letting the cool liquid soothe my nerves. Maaz had already returned to his book, completely at ease. I envied that calm, that ability to just sit and read while the world or at least my world felt like it was spiraling.


    "Late-night reading?" I asked, more to fill the silence than out of genuine curiosity.


    He looked up again, his eyes thoughtful. "Yeah. Couldn¡¯t sleep. Figured I¡¯d make use of the time."


    I nodded, taking another sip. "Smart. I just wake up and drink."


    When I looked at the book Maaz was reading, I noticed the text on the cover was written in another language Arabic, maybe. I squinted, trying to make out the intricate script. Curiosity got the better of me.


    "So, what are you reading?" I asked, leaning slightly closer.


    "Oh, this?" Maaz replied, holding up the book with a slight wave. "It¡¯s a literature book from my country. I¡¯m a big fan of literature." His tone was casual, but there was a glimmer of passion in his eyes as he spoke.


    I stepped closer to get a better look at the cover. Something about the design, the ornate lettering, or maybe the strange, almost ancient aura it exuded, made me pause.Also I''ve seen Arabic letters before but these doesn''t look like them. For reasons I couldn¡¯t quite put into words, the book unsettled me.


    Maaz must have noticed my expression because he tilted his head slightly and asked, "Are you having nightmares?"


    I froze, my grip tightening around the beer can. My mind raced. What the fuck? How the hell did he know? We¡¯d just met today. There was no way he could have figured that out.


    He saw the surprise plastered all over my face and quickly added, "Don¡¯t look so shocked. My father was a psychiatrist, and I picked up a thing or two from spending time with him."


    His explanation made sense at least logically but it still left me feeling uneasy. How could he read me so easily? Am i that easy to read.I took another sip of my beer, trying to calm the unease bubbling in my chest.


    "I don¡¯t know which god you believe in," Maaz continued, his voice calm and steady, "but maybe pray to God. God can help you from everything."


    I blinked, caught off guard again. A moment ago, he was talking about psychology, and now he was diving into religion. This guy was something else. I gave him a wry smile.


    "I¡¯m my own god," I said, trying to sound confident, though the words felt hollow. "I just need a little rest."


    As I turned to leave the room, Maaz¡¯s voice stopped me. "Do whatever suits you and makes you feel like yourself," he said, his tone almost philosophical.


    I paused, glancing back at him. What the fuck is wrong with this guy? First psychology, then religion, and now philosophy? He was definitely a strange one. But there was something oddly comforting about his words, even if I didn¡¯t fully understand them.


    I smiled faintly and replied, "Thanks. And don¡¯t stay up too late. You¡¯ve got a lot to do tomorrow."


    He gave a casual hand gesture, tapping the soda can lightly against the table as a signal of acknowledgment.


    Leaving him in the dimly lit living room, I trudged back to my bedroom. As soon as my body hit the mattress, exhaustion took over, and I felt myself sinking into the embrace of sleep. The nightmares, the stress all of it faded into the background after tossing and turning for a while I fell asleep.


    The days started blending together, one after the other, like a haze I couldn¡¯t shake off. Maaz, on the other hand, seemed to have settled in perfectly. It was as if he¡¯d been living here for years instead of just a few weeks. His room was always neat, he decorated his room simply with just a bad , table and wardrobe. He adapted so seamlessly to the apartment that it felt like he belonged there more than I did.


    Meanwhile, my life continued its downward spiral. The nightmares were getting worse more vivid, more terrifying. Every time I closed my eyes, I found myself running again, the creature¡¯s growls echoing in my ears, the cliff looming ahead. Waking up drenched in sweat had become my new normal. The lack of sleep was eating me from inside, leaving me irritable and on edge. Stress fed my insomnia, and the insomnia fed my stress. It was a vicious cycle, and I was caught in the middle, feeling like I was losing my grip on reality.


    I had seen both a regular doctor and a psychiatrist, desperate for some solution. They told me what I already knew. I was overstressed. "Relax," they said. "Take it easy." As if it were that simple. I tried everything meditation, exercise, cutting back on caffeine but nothing worked.


    And then there was Maaz. Almost every night, when I stumbled out of my room after another nightmare, he was there. Sometimes he¡¯d be sitting on the couch, engrossed in that mysterious book of his. Other times, I¡¯d hear him speaking in low tones in his room, the fluid sound of Arabic or his native language filling the apartment. I assumed he was talking to his family back home, given the time difference.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    At first, I found it odd, but as my life spiraled further into chaos, I stopped caring. My own problems were overwhelming enough without adding curiosity about Maaz to the mix.


    One particularly sleepless night, after what felt like the hundredth nightmare, I dragged myself out of bed, my body heavy with exhaustion. My head throbbed, my throat was dry, and my hands trembled slightly from the lack of rest. I felt sick physically and mentally. I needed something to calm me down, and alcohol seemed like the only solution. Don''t know why but I''ve been drowning in alcohol ever since I''ve been having those nightmare. I was never a alcohol guy before but now I can''t even imagine a life without it.


    As I shuffled into the living room, I was startled to see Maaz sitting in the couch, playing games on his phone. He turned when he heard my footsteps, his expression calm as always.


    "Oh, you¡¯re still awake," I muttered, rubbing my eyes. "Any drinks?"


    He looked at me, his gaze steady, almost piercing. "Another nightmare," he said, not as a question but as a statement. "As I told you before, go to a church or mosque. The preacher can solve your problem."


    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh at his suggestion. It wasn¡¯t a joyful laugh, but a bitter, tired one. "What can a priest or a preacher do except touch kids or scam people?" I joked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "How are they going to fix my stress? Even a doctors din''t do anything how in the world they''re gonna fix my problem."


    Maaz sighed deeply, the kind of sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world. Without a word, he gestured toward the couch, signaling me to sit.


    "Come here," he said, his tone firm yet calm.


    There was something about the way he spoke, a quiet authority that made it hard to argue. I hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and plopped down on the couch, too tired to care what he was up to.


    He sat down beside me, his mysterious book resting on the table. For the first time, I noticed how worn its edges were, as if it had been read countless times. The intricate patterns on the cover seemed to shift under the dim light, almost as if they were alive.


    "What now?" I asked, my voice heavy with exhaustion and a hint of irritation.


    Maaz leaned back, his eyes thoughtful, as if he were carefully choosing his next words. The room fell silent, save for the faint noise of the fridge in the kitchen. For the first time in a long while, I felt a strange sense of anticipation, like something significant was about to happen.


    Maaz leaned back on the couch, his dark eyes fixed on me with a peculiar intensity. "So," he began, his voice calm but with an undercurrent of something I couldn¡¯t quite place. "do you believe in the supernatural?" He asked.


    I frowned, confused by the sudden shift in the conversation. "What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice edged with irritation.


    "You¡¯re doing a master¡¯s in physics, yet you believe in this bullshit" Maaz continued without giving any response.


    "you still believe in things like nightmares being just figments of your imagination. Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s possible there¡¯s more to them?"


    I snorted, leaning back against the couch. "Maaz, I deal in mathematics, in facts. The supernatural? That¡¯s just nonsense people use to explain what they don¡¯t understand."


    He shrugged, unbothered by my dismissal. "You can believe or not; it¡¯s up to you. But the veil between us and the supernatural is very thin. Once it¡¯s opened, people start seeing things,imagining things worse Case scenario possession. In your case it''s nightmare ."


    His words sent a shiver down my spine, though I quickly masked it with a laugh. "What kind of nonsense are you spouting?"


    Maaz didn¡¯t laugh or smile. His expression remained serious, his gaze unwavering. "You¡¯re not eager to go to a mosque or a church," he said. "That¡¯s fine. But those are the only places that can save you from going completely mad."


    I laughed harder this time, though it was more out of discomfort than amusement. "Save me from madness? Come on, Maaz. You sound like one of those conspiracy theorists. What¡¯s next? Are you going to tell me ghosts are real?"


    "Believe what you want," he said, his tone calm but firm. "But if you¡¯re so confident they don¡¯t exist, why not agree to let me prove it to you?"


    I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. "Prove it? How exactly do you plan to do that?"


    He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers interlocked. "I can open the door," he said simply.


    "The door?" I repeated, my skepticism clear.


    "The door between our world and theirs," he clarified. "If you¡¯re right, nothing will happen. But if I¡¯m right..." He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.


    I rolled my eyes, though a part of me¡ªdeep down¡ªfelt a flicker of unease. "Fine," I said, crossing my arms. "Do what you can. Even if you can¡¯t cure me, at least this might give me some late night entertainment."


    Maaz¡¯s expression darkened slightly. "This isn¡¯t entertainment," he said, his voice low. "Once the door is opened, there¡¯s no returning from it."


    I smirked, trying to mask my growing unease. "I¡¯m as ready as I¡¯ll ever be," I said, feigning confidence.


    He studied me for a long moment, his gaze piercing, as if he were searching for any hint of hesitation. Finally, he nodded. "Very well," he said. "But remember, you asked for this."


    (**I blamed my past self,I should have never agreed with him. Looking back, it was a reckless decision, one I would regret for a long time. I should have gone to a church instead. Ahem, let¡¯s continue the story before I lose track**)


    The room seemed to grow colder as he spoke, the air heavier. For the first time, I began to wonder if I¡¯d just made a terrible mistake.


    Maaz grabbed my hand with a grip that shocked me. His hand felt like iron, far stronger than I expected from someone his size. I¡¯m way bigger than him, but the force he exerted seemed unnatural, as if it came from somewhere beyond mere physical strength.


    He closed his eyes and began murmuring in strange language, his voice steady and rhythmic, like a chant. At first, nothing happened. I sat there, feeling awkward, the silence of the room only amplifying my growing embarrassment for him. What was this supposed to prove?


    But Maaz didn¡¯t falter. His eyes remained shut, his words flowing in a language I didn¡¯t understand, and then it happened.


    The lights in the room suddenly switched off. My first thought was load-shedding an inconvenience, sure, but nothing out of the ordinary. Yet before I could reach for my phone to turn on the flashlight, the air in the room changed.


    It wasn¡¯t just dark it felt alive. The faintest breeze brushed against my skin, carrying with it a scent unlike anything I¡¯d ever experienced. It was earthy yet ethereal, like the smell of a forest after rain, but far richer, more vibrant. It filled the room, wrapping around me like an invisible blanket. My chest, which had felt heavy with stress for weeks, suddenly felt light. My mind, clouded with sleeplessness and tension, cleared as if someone had pressed a reset button.


    Whatever Maaz was doing, it was working.


    For the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of peace, a calmness that was almost intoxicating. I wanted to stay in that moment forever, but then Maaz let go of my hand, and I saw it.


    At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. But no, there it was standing in the middle of the room.


    A humanoid figure, towering at least eight feet tall, its presence dominating the space. It was dressed entirely in white, its robes flowing like they were made of light itself. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest.


    "What the fuck is that?" I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. I can''t even scream, my whole body froze.


    The figure didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t speak, but its aura was overwhelming. It wasn¡¯t threatening it didn¡¯t need to be. Its sheer presence was enough to make me feel like an ant standing before a mountain.


    Maaz opened his eyes, his voice calm, almost soothing. "You can go now," he said, addressing the figure.


    And just like that, it vanished.


    The scent, the presence, the figure¡ªall gone as if they had never been there. The lights flickered back on, bathing the room in their familiar glow, but everything felt... off. My head, which had felt so clear moments ago, was heavy again, the stress creeping back like an unwelcome guest.


    I stared at Maaz, my mind racing to make sense of what had just happened. "What the fuck was that?" I demanded, my voice shaking. "What the fuck did you just do?"


    Maaz leaned back on the couch, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "That, my friend," he said, "is a jinn. The main man behind all occult and supernatural."


    My mind reeled. A jinn? No, that couldn¡¯t be. There had to be a logical explanation. Maybe he¡¯d hypnotized me, or maybe I was so sleep-deprived that I¡¯d hallucinated the entire thing.


    "Jinn?" I repeated, my voice laced with disbelief. "You¡¯re joking, right? This is some kind of psychological trick, isn¡¯t it? Your dad was a psychologist, you said. This is just... some advanced hypnosis or something, right?"


    Maaz chuckled softly, his expression unreadable. "Believe what you want," he said. "But you saw it, didn¡¯t you? Felt it?"


    I couldn¡¯t deny that I had. But admitting it was another thing entirely. My hands trembled as I ran them through my hair, trying to process what had just happened.


    "Why... why would you do that?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.


    "Because," Maaz said, his tone serious now, "you needed to see that some things can¡¯t be explained with logic or science. Sometimes, the answers lie beyond what we know."


    I didn¡¯t respond. I couldn¡¯t. My mind was too busy replaying the events, trying and failing to make sense of them. One thing was certain: my life would never be the same after this.


    Maaz leaned back on the couch, his smirk unwavering. "So, now that I¡¯ve provided you proof of the supernatural, are you going to believe me?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with a subtle challenge.


    I opened my mouth to reply but no words came out. My mind was a whirlwind of confusion, fear, and disbelief. What had just happened defied everything I thought I knew about the world. I wasn¡¯t ready to accept it, but I couldn¡¯t deny it either.


    Instead of answering, I sat there in silence, trying to piece together a logical explanation for the events that had unfolded. The scent, the lights, the figure it all felt too real to be a hallucination, yet too impossible to be real.


    Maaz studied me for a moment before speaking again. "Not everything can be described by logic, my friend," he said, his tone softer now. "Some things exist beyond our understanding. So, what¡¯s it going to be? Should I cure you which i might not know the cause of your problem, or would you prefer to visit a church or mosque?"


    I didn¡¯t answer. My thoughts were too tangled, too chaotic to form a coherent response.


    Maaz stood up, walking over to the kitchen counter. He grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and murmured something under his breath¡ªwords in the strange language, soft and deliberate. The air seemed to hum faintly as he spoke, though I couldn¡¯t tell if it was real or just my imagination playing tricks on me.


    He returned to the living room and held out the glass. "Drink this," he said, his expression serious. "It will help you sleep. We can talk more tomorrow¡ªit¡¯s Sunday, after all. Just remember to take a leave from work."


    I hesitated, staring at the glass in his hand. A part of me wanted to reject it outright, to laugh off this entire situation as some elaborate prank or psychological experiment. But another part of me¡ªthe part that had seen that towering figure, that had felt its overwhelming presence¡ªknew better.


    What if Maaz wasn¡¯t just some eccentric guy with a flair for theatrics? What if there really was something supernatural at play?


    My thoughts spiraled into darker territory. What if Maaz wasn¡¯t helping me at all? What if he was the devil himself, luring me into some kind of trap? The irony of the thought wasn¡¯t lost on me. I¡¯d spent my entire life dismissing the idea of God, yet here I was, wondering if I¡¯d just made a deal with the devil.


    "Drink it," Maaz said again, his voice breaking through my internal debate. His tone was steady, almost reassuring.


    I looked at the glass one more time. Screw it, I thought. If this guy was the devil, then I was already in too deep. I grabbed the glass and downed its contents in one go.


    The water was cool and refreshing, with a faint metallic taste that I couldn¡¯t quite place. As soon as I swallowed, a wave of calm washed over me. The tension in my shoulders eased, and my racing thoughts began to slow.


    "Good," Maaz said, a satisfied smile on his face. "Now, go to bed. You¡¯ll feel better tomorrow."


    I didn¡¯t argue. I felt too tired, too drained to question him further. I stumbled back to my room, grabbed my phone, and sent a quick text to my colleagues, letting them know I wouldn¡¯t be coming in to work.


    As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out. No tossing and turning, no restless thoughts just pure, uninterrupted sleep. For the first time in weeks, I felt at peace.

 The jinn

    For the last couple of days, Maaz has been treating me and also teaching me about jinns what they are, what they do, and the strange, unseen world they inhabit.


    It¡¯s bizarre, to say the least. Me, a guy with a bachelor''s degree in mathematics and a proud atheist, now questioning core beliefs of my short 25-year life. It feels like my entire worldview is crumbling, piece by piece, ever since that day. The day I saw that thing. Or, as Maaz insists, that jinn.


    My life hasn¡¯t been the same since.


    At first, I dismissed it as a hallucination. Maybe I was sleep-deprived, stressed, or just imagining things, maybe he did some tricks on me. Even the next day, I was in denial, convincing myself that it was a trick of the light or some fleeting shadow after the load shedding my brain misinterpreted. But the thing is, I¡¯ve been seeing stuff. Real things. Things that aren¡¯t supposed to exist.


    For reassurance, I went to a psychiatrist, hoping they¡¯d diagnose me with something, anything that could explain it. Schizophrenia, sleep paralysis, some rare neurological conditions. But after an hour of tests and questions, the psychiatrist told me I was perfectly normal. No signs of mental illness, no delusions, no stress-induced psychosis. Just a healthy, sane 25-year-old man.


    And that¡¯s the most terrifying part of all.


    Because if I¡¯m sane, then what I¡¯m seeing is real.


    It started small shadows that seemed to move on their own, darting in and out of my peripheral vision. I tried to brush them off as tricks of the mind. But then I started seeing shapes and forms. At first, they were faint and blurry, but over time, they became clearer. More detailed. More real.


    The most horrifying part is that I¡¯ve started seeing these things on my campus. My safe haven. My home away from home.


    They¡¯re everywhere.


    These creatures these jinns rome around the campus as if it¡¯s their playground. I¡¯ve seen shadows perched high above the largest trees, their shapes shifting and writhing like smoke in the wind. I¡¯ve seen giant figures with impossibly long legs, their heads almost touching the tops of buildings. They move slowly, deliberately, as if they know no one else can see them.


    No one but me.


    And that¡¯s the worst part. Everyone else goes about their day, blissfully unaware of the monstrous entities surrounding them. They walk past the shadows without a second glance, sit under the trees where these creatures are sitting, laugh and talk as if nothing is wrong.


    But I see them.


    I see the way their glowing eyes follow people, the way their long, clawed fingers reach out, almost grazing someone¡¯s shoulder before retracting. I see the way they move, silent and predatory, as if they¡¯re waiting for something.


    I¡¯ve stopped going to certain parts of the campus. There¡¯s a grove of trees near the library that¡¯s always shrouded in an unnatural darkness, even during the day. The air there feels heavy, suffocating, like it¡¯s alive and pressing down on you. I swear I¡¯ve seen something , something massive crouched in the shadows there, its eyes glowing faintly in the dark.


    I¡¯ve tried to tell myself it¡¯s all in my head. That I¡¯m just imagining things. But every time I see one of them, I feel it. This deep, primal fear that no amount of logic or reasoning can shake.


    Maaz gave me an amulet, a small, thing with intricate carvings and a faint metallic shine. He told me that as long as I kept it on me, these creatures wouldn¡¯t harm me he also added they don''t harm people without reason. At first, I was skeptical, even afraid to rely on something that seemed so¡­ superstitious. But desperation has a way of bending even the most rational minds. I wore it, and little by little, I began to adjust.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The creatures didn¡¯t go away, but they kept their distance. I could still see them lurking, watching, but they didn¡¯t come close. It was unnerving, but at least I felt safer.


    Maaz, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed. He went about his day as if nothing was out of the ordinary, even though he admitted he was more sensitive to these entities than most people. He could see them since he was a child, just as clearly as I could perhaps even more so. Yet, he lived among them, coexisting with these otherworldly beings as if they were nothing more than background noise.


    ¡°If I can adjust to this,¡± he said , ¡°why can¡¯t you?¡±


    And he was right. If he could live like this, so could I. Or at least, I could try.


    But then something happened that shook me to my core.


    There¡¯s a girl in the archaeology department, someone everyone knows but avoids. She¡¯s infamous on campus, labeled ¡°crazy or mad¡± by students . She talks to herself, screams at shadows, and has this wild, haunted look in her eyes. I used to think she was just mentally ill, a tragic case of someone who lost touch with reality.


    But Maaz told me the truth. She isn¡¯t crazy. She¡¯s possessed.


    Possessed by these jinns.


    The realization hit me like a freight train. If not for Maaz , I could¡¯ve ended up like her. Whatever was happening to me, whatever these creatures wanted, it was real. And it was dangerous.


    The only positive thing to come out of all this is that my nightmares have almost completely disappeared. For months, I was plagued by dreams of shadowy figures, of being chased and suffocated by unseen forces. But since I started wearing the amulet, the nightmares have faded, replaced by a dreamless sleep.


    Still, Maaz insists this is far from over.


    He explained that these types of jinn don¡¯t attach themselves to people without a reason.Jinns harm people for several reasons, often due to unintentional harm or invasion of their space, such as disturbing them or injuring them unknowingly. They can also act out of revenge if offended, disrespected, or provoked, and some jinns are naturally mischievous or malevolent, causing harm for amusement. Black magic is another common reason, as practitioners summon jinns to carry out curses or harm others. Additionally, jinns may possess humans out of attraction, or targeting those who are spiritually or emotionally weak.


    And that¡¯s when he dropped the bombshell.


    ¡°My guess,¡± he said, ¡°is that someone used black magic on you.¡±


    The words sent a chill down my spine. Black magic? On me? Who would do such a thing? And why?


    Maaz said that unless we could figure out who was behind it and why they targeted me, my problem might never fully go away. He also admitted that his knowledge and abilities had their limits. He can kill the jinn that was bugging me but to uproot the problem we need to know the reason and the person who did this.


    So to truly treat me, we¡¯d need someone more experienced someone with deeper spiritual knowledge.


    He suggested contacting an imam from a mosque, someone who could perform the necessary rituals to cleanse me and break whatever curse had been placed on me.


    ¡°I¡¯ll make the arrangements,¡± Maaz said. ¡°But until then, keep the amulet on you at all times.¡±


    I can¡¯t help but feel a surge of anger toward whoever did this to me. They almost drove me insane. They turned my life into a waking nightmare. I hope, wherever they are, they¡¯re happy with what they¡¯ve done.


    So, let¡¯s get back to the topic. After that first night¡¯s experience, I dove deep into researching these so-called jinns. I scoured the internet, read everything I could find, and listened intently to Maaz as he explained what they were.


    The jinn, as it turns out, are beings from Arabic and Islamic tradition they even predates islam. Initially, I thought they were just mythical creatures, like fairies or vampires stories meant to entertain or scare. But now, after seeing them with my own eyes, I know they¡¯re far more than that.


    In Islamic belief, jinns are one of the three intelligent creations of God, alongside humans and angels. While angels are made from light and humans from clay, the jinn are said to be created from smokeless fire. Maaz explained that, in scientific terms, this could mean they¡¯re composed of pure energy, existing in a state that allows them to interact with the physical and metaphysical worlds simultaneously.


    They¡¯re not confined to a single form. Unlike the blue, cheerful genie I saw from movies, the jinn can take on countless shapes and sizes. Some are humanoid, with features that are almost human but slightly¡­ off. Others are monstrous, with elongated limbs, sharp teeth, and glowing eyes that pierce through the darkness. Some are shadowy and indistinct, like smoke swirling in the air, while others are grotesquely large, towering over trees and buildings.


    Jinns are not bound by our physical limitations. They can move faster than the eye can follow, pass through walls, and appear or disappear at will. They exist in a parallel dimension but can interact with our world whenever they choose¡ªor whenever they¡¯re summoned.


    They¡¯re not inherently good or evil, either. Like humans, jinns have free will. Some are benevolent and keep to themselves, while others are mischievous or outright malevolent. The malevolent ones, Maaz said, are the ones people fear most. They can possess humans, cause harm, and wreak havoc, often driven by grudges, revenge, or manipulation by black magic.


    Jinns also have their own societies, families, and hierarchies. Some are solitary, while others live in groups or tribes. They have their own languages and can even have religions, with some being devoutly religious and others completely irreligious.


    One thing that struck me is their connection to specific places. Maaz told me that jinns tend to dwell in certain areas¡ªabandoned buildings, forests, deserts, or even graveyards. They¡¯re particularly drawn to places that humans rarely frequent, though some live in bustling areas, hidden in plain sight.


    What makes them truly terrifying is their ability to see us while remaining unseen. They can observe us, follow us, and even interact with us without our knowledge. That¡¯s why, Maaz said, they¡¯re so feared. It¡¯s not just their power but their invisibility that makes them so dangerous.


    Learning all this has been both fascinating and horrifying. On one hand, it feels like I¡¯m uncovering a hidden layer of reality that most people never get to see. On the other hand, knowing these beings exist¡ªand that they¡¯re watching me¡ªmakes my skin crawl.


    I¡¯ve come to understand that the jinn are not just myths or legends. They¡¯re real. And now that I¡¯ve seen them, there¡¯s no going back.


    Maaz said that there are many tribes and types of jinn, each with unique traits and characteristics. He promised to tell me more once my treatment is complete, and the thought excites me. After my treatment i might take  this subject as a hobby, not as a source of fear.