Haunted Hostel: The Witch Story That Still Terrifies Students

Everyone in college had heard the rumors. Stories whispered in the dark, passed from one batch to another. Most thought it was just hostel gossip—until Amit, Ravi, and Nakul decided to test it for themselves.

It all started when the trio moved into the abandoned D-Block of Malnad Institute of Engineering. Once a bustling hostel, the block had been sealed off for years due to “maintenance issues.” But the real reason? No one talked about it. For Amit and his friends, the empty building promised privacy, peace, and a break from the chaos of college life. They had no idea they were stepping into a nightmare.

The first night passed without incident, but something felt off. The air was still—too still. And around 3:00 a.m., Ravi, unable to sleep, walked toward the washroom. As he passed a long-forgotten mirror in the hallway, he saw her. A woman, dressed in a blood-red saree, stood silently behind him. He turned around instantly, but the corridor was empty. When he looked back at the mirror, it was smudged with a bloody handprint that hadn’t been there before.

Ravi’s screams woke everyone up, but by the time they returned, the mark had vanished. They laughed it off—maybe it was stress. Exams, lack of sleep, and haunted hostel stories were probably getting to him.

But the next few nights were far from normal. Strange knocks echoed through the hallways. Lockers rattled without wind. And shadows moved even when no one did. Then one day, Amit discovered an old, half-burnt diary hidden beneath a broken tile in their room. It belonged to a girl named Roshni Sharma, a former electronics student from 2003. She was a topper, well-liked, and mysteriously gone. Her last entry read, “He said he loved me. But he locked me in. I screamed. No one came. Now I will never leave this place.”

That night, Nakul saw someone brushing their hair at the foot of his bed. The figure had long black strands that fell over her face. When he switched on the light—nothing. But his bedsheet had several long strands of black hair on it. None of them had long hair.

From that point, the horror escalated. Lights would flicker without reason. Their phones recorded videos on their own, and in one of them, a shadowy figure was seen crawling on the ceiling. The mirror cracked. Bloody footprints led to their bed. And every night at 3:00 a.m., the room grew icy cold.

Terrified, they went to the temple on campus. The priest refused to enter the block. “It’s not haunted,” he said. “It’s cursed.” That word chilled their bones.