There are two ways horror grips us.
First, through that sudden flash— the one that clenches your nerves and leaves you gasping. And second, through the quiet, enduring unease that hums beneath the skin, whispering: what if this world isn’t the one we think it is?
The Eternal Prisoner dwells in that uneasy in-between. This collection of six haunting tales doesn’t merely aim to frighten— it redefines what fear means. Here, the supernatural isn’t just a ghost outside your window; it’s memory, guilt, repetition, illusion— the lingering pulse of what once lived inside us.
Across distant geographies— from the misted hills of Himachal to the haunted fields of Assam, from decaying mansions to cursed roads— these stories are united by one thread: the terrifying intimacy of reality itself.

1. The Eternal Prisoner
The Count, the castle, and the endless loop of consciousness.
The title story opens with a gothic allure: an immortal count, an unsuspecting visitor, and a castle that breathes its own secrets. But beneath its candlelit corridors lies a deeper terror — the prison of eternity itself. The “eternal prisoner” is not the monster who cannot die, but the human who cannot escape the echoes of his own past.
“Immortality,” the count says, “isn’t a gift. It’s the longest punishment ever written.”

2. The Presence
When fear takes the shape of silence.
A young man travels to a remote Assamese village to conquer his fear— and spends one night in a place known as the Ghost Hamlet. What begins as a test of courage turns into an awakening. The “presence” here is not merely spectral; it is the shadow within, the collective memory of dread that refuses to die. This story strips horror of its props and brings it face to face with human vulnerability.
The scariest thing, it says, is not seeing a ghost— it’s realizing the ghost might be you.

3. The Illusion Field
When reality becomes part of the tour.
A group of friends visits an infamous haunted farmhouse, curious to experience the thrill of “dark tourism.” What they find is not a ghost, but an illusion that rewrites reality itself. Time loops, perception fractures, and every step forward tightens the trap.
By the time the survivors realize the truth, they’re no longer sure whether they’re inside the illusion— or have become part of it.

4. The Lake House Mystery
In the silent depths of Lucerne Lake, memory never dies.
When a young architect and his wife vanish from a lakeside villa in Lucerne, the town dismisses it as another unsolved tragedy. But years later, strange echoes begin to rise from the frozen water— whispers of names, faces in the glass, and a story that refuses to end. Some houses keep secrets. Some lakes keep souls.

5. Echoes of the Dead
In every village, some stories refuse to die.
When a young man returns to his ancestral village, he encounters a wandering witch— a shapeshifter cursed to relive her story night after night. As he delves deeper, he discovers that her haunting isn’t vengeance but a repetition of grief.
This story resurrects the folklore of rural India with startling realism, turning the “chudail” from a creature of fear into a tragic embodiment of memory and metamorphosis.
The dead don’t always seek revenge. Sometimes, they just want to be remembered right.

6. Roswell Mansion
Where architecture meets afterlife.
A civil engineer arrives in Himachal to inspect a new project and ends up staying at an old mansion— Roswell Mansion. But soon, reality begins to unravel. The mansion seems to breathe, its corridors bending, its mirrors reflecting impossible moments. This story closes the collection with a sublime question: If perception can lie, is reality ever real?

A Map of Fear
Taken together, these six tales create a haunting architecture— from the immortal to the mortal, from castles to forgotten villages, from the otherworldly to the intimately human.
Fear is a geography. You move through it as through a landscape: first unfamiliar, then recognizably your own.
The Eternal Prisoner begins with gothic grandeur and slowly draws inward, until by the final story, you realize that every ghost was only a metaphor— for time, memory, and the infinite loop of guilt and perception.
This is not an anthology of jump-scares. It’s a slow burn. A collection that lingers like smoke, exploring the intersection between outer and inner hauntings — where horror is not spectacle, but revelation.

Who Should Read It
This collection will draw both classic horror enthusiasts and lovers of psychological fiction.
If you seek the grotesque, you’ll find it.
If you seek meaning, you’ll find that too — hidden in between whispers, mirrors, and the spaces where fear and truth trade places.

In the End
When you close this book, don’t expect silence. You might hear an echo— of footsteps fading down a corridor that shouldn’t exist, or a voice asking: “Did you really see that?”
The Eternal Prisoner doesn’t just tell ghost stories. It reminds you that may be, the ghosts were never outside to begin with.