🏙️ Flat Number 703: The Lease That Never Ends
Genre: Urban Horror | Setting: Karachi | Theme: Time loops, Real estate paranoia, Ghostly bureaucracy
By Faraz Parvez
Professor Dr. (Retired) Arshad Afzal
Retired Faculty Member, Umm Al-Qura University, Makkah, KSA
(Pseudonym of Professor Dr. Arshad Afzal)
They said the building was new. The paint still smelled fresh, the tiles gleamed, and the elevators hummed like purring cats.
But something about Flat 703 always felt… too quiet.
Shahmeer, a 32-year-old banker recently posted in Karachi, had been thrilled to find a luxury flat at half the market rent. “Urgent transfer. Fully furnished. Immediate lease. Flat 703, Tower V, Block 4 Clifton.” The ad almost sounded too eager. But who questions luck in a city like Karachi?
He moved in on a Thursday. The weather was stormy. Rain lashed against the tinted windows. When he signed the lease, he noticed something odd: his signature — already scrawled at the bottom of the document. His name. His handwriting. Even his usual flourish under the “r.”
He laughed it off.
Stress. Exhaustion. The kind of forgetfulness that comes with relocation.
But that night, strange things began.
His keys, always kept in a dish, would appear in odd places — the freezer, the shoe rack, even inside a locked cupboard.
The wall clock ticked backward between 3:00 AM and 3:09 AM every night.
Neighbors smiled politely but refused to speak about the unit.
And the security guard whispered, “Sir, no one stays in 703 longer than a week.”
On the fifth night, Shahmeer found a note under his pillow:
“The lease was never for you. You just returned.”
Terrified, he went to the building’s real estate office.
The clerk, a bored man with yellowing teeth, pulled out the lease file — only to reveal seven identical copies, all signed by Shahmeer, dated over the last four years.
“But I was in Lahore for the last five years!” he shouted.
The clerk only shrugged. “Then you’ve come back home, sir.”
That night, he tried to leave. He packed, took the lift, and pressed G.
The elevator took him to the 7th floor again. Flat 703.
No matter what button he pressed — G, B, M, even 14 — the doors always opened to 703.
The last text he sent to his friend read:
“Can’t get out. Lease won’t let me. Feels like I’ve signed something eternal.”
The friend laughed. Then went to Tower V to find Shahmeer.
He was told Flat 703 was vacant. The door was ajar.
Inside, only a set of keys in a dish.
And a lease document. Already signed.
By him.
🖋️ Urban legends aren’t always born in ancient folklore. Some are still being written… one tenant at a time.
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🩸 Coming up: “The Last Seen Was at 3:17 AM” — a digital haunting from Mumbai.
