The Bro Code

They called it The Bro Code—a stupid pact between two college brothers, Raghav and Karan, to dare each other into reckless adventures. One night, after too many drinks at a campus party, the pact went too far.

Laughing and half-delirious, they tracked a random woman’s location through a social app. She was walking home alone. They thought it would be funny—just follow her, tease her from a distance, nothing “serious.”

But fun turned ugly.

As they trailed her car with their headlights off, she sped up, panicked. The brothers turned the GPS volume up, joking about being “professional stalkers.” Then, in a blink, her car skidded on the wet road, spun out of control, and slammed into a dumpster. The crash echoed through the empty street. Her body flew forward and collapsed into a pile of garbage bags.

Silence.

The brothers stared at each other, sobered instantly.
“Raghav… we didn’t… we didn’t kill her, right?”
But before either could reach the woman, police sirens filled the night.

The officers dragged them away, accused them of rash driving, of causing the accident, of murder. Their protests dissolved into the cold walls of the jail cell. The Bro Code had become their ruin.

But the real story was just beginning.

The woman—Anisha—survived the accident. Physically. But her mind fractured. She lost two days from her memory: the day she went to work... and the day she crashed. On the third day, she woke up believing it was an ordinary morning.

Only it wasn’t.

People who had witnessed the accident swore they saw her—her body—burned in a mysterious fire at the impound yard. Yet that morning, she walked through the streets looking perfectly alive. Perfectly normal. Perfectly wrong.

Whispers spread:
If her body burned… who is walking among us?

A missing-body complaint was filed. The city buzzed with fear—unusual accident, burnt corpse, and a living woman who shouldn’t exist.

The courtroom erupted in confusion when Anisha was summoned as a witness in the brothers’ trial.

The lawyer asked, “If you were at the accident, how is it you were never seen? Never found?”

Anisha opened her mouth—but the sound didn’t come from her lips.
It echoed around the courtroom.
Inside walls.
Inside people’s ears.
Inside their bones.

The lights flickered. Papers flew. The judge stumbled backward. The jury screamed. Some ran out, others fainted. Anisha stood in the chaos, her expression unreadable.

“I want justice,” she said.

And the court shut down that day, sealed by fear.

A few days later—on a quiet Sunday morning—Anisha woke again. This time, she wasn’t glowing or ghostlike. She looked exactly like the burnt body people had claimed to see. This time everyone saw her. Everyone froze.

Some whispered memory loss.

Others whispered impossible.

Because now the truth came out:
The burnt body wasn’t hers.
The spirit people saw wasn’t hers.
But something had taken her likeness.
Something that walked among them before the truth arrived.

And as she stepped forward, the air trembled again—
as if something not human moved with her.

The ending was never meant to close.
Some stories stay open.
Some doors do too.

She wasn’t just alive.
She was… sent from somewhere else.