Chapter 5: Horror Revealed

It wasn’t until someone tagged him for the third time that he finally responded:

"The teacher said that madman might have some kind of infectious disease."

The words made my stomach drop. Infectious disease—just hearing that phrase set off a fresh wave of panic. Suddenly, every itch, every cough in the room became suspicious. Kabir immediately started sanitising his hands for the hundredth time that night.

"When they tried to catch him just now, he was covered in blood and pustules."

I imagined the scene: teachers trying to hold him down, only to recoil at the sight of pus and blood. Someone behind me muttered, "Yuck," and Sneha buried her face deeper into her pillow.

"The teacher has already called the health department—they’ll come to deal with it later."

There was some small relief knowing that professionals were coming. But later? No one wanted to hear 'later'. We wanted this nightmare to end now. The group chat filled with questions: "How long will it take?", "What if someone gets sick?" Someone else wrote, "Arrey, ab toh bhagwan hi bachaye."

"Don’t go out. This is serious."

The final warning. It carried the weight of real danger—a sharp reminder that things were beyond the hostel staff's control. The message was followed by a long silence, as if everyone was finally taking the threat seriously.

Some people started cursing in the group chat:

"Pushing the responsibility around when something happens. What kind of teachers are these?"

"Yeh college wale bhi na, kaam ke time sab chup. Fees collection mein toh sab aage," typed one of the boys from second year. Another sent, "Saala, next year toh transfer le lunga."

"This crappy college—might as well not even come here."

A string of angry emojis followed, and a meme about 'hostel problems' made the rounds. Despite the fear, the urge to vent frustration was too strong. It was as if complaining could protect us from what was really happening.