The Chudail’s Midnight Cry

Deep in a quiet Uttarakhand village, Ravi ignored warnings about the old haveli on the hill,

said to house a chudail who lured wanderers with a baby's cry.�One foggy midnight,

drawn by the wail, he crept inside. Lantern flickering, he found a cradle rocking empty in

the moonlit room—no baby, just whispers: "Maa... hold me."Heart pounding, Ravi turned to flee,

but the door slammed shut. Shadows twisted into pale arms wrapping his throat,

cold breath hissing, "You're mine now." His screams echoed into silence—villagers found only his lantern

the next dawn.��