I never believed in anything paranormal before this happened. I’m the kind of person who always tries to find a logical explanation first. But what happened last week still makes my stomach turn when I think about it.
I work late shifts, so I usually get home around 2–3 AM. My apartment building is old, the kind with long hallways and lights that flicker for no reason. Nothing unusual, just creepy in the normal way.
Last Tuesday, I got home around 2:40 AM. As I walked down the hallway to my door, I noticed my neighbor’s door was slightly open. That was weird because the guy who lives there is older and always keeps it locked. I remember thinking maybe he forgot.
When I got inside my apartment, I locked the door, threw my keys on the table, and went straight to the kitchen to get water. That’s when I heard it.
Three knocks.
Not on my door.
On the wall.
The wall that connects my apartment to his.
I froze. At first I thought maybe it was pipes or something, but then it happened again.
Three slow knocks.
Knock… knock… knock.
I stood there for a good minute just listening. Nothing after that. Silence. I told myself I was tired and went to bed.
Around 3:15 AM I woke up to the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside my apartment. Heavy footsteps, like someone walking slowly back and forth.
At first I thought it was another neighbor, but then I realized something.
Nobody in this building walks around at 3 in the morning. Ever.
I got up and looked through the peephole.
The hallway was empty.
But I could still hear the footsteps.
Right outside my door.
Walking.
Stopping.
Walking again.
I didn’t sleep the rest of the night.
The next morning, when I left for work, there were police in the hallway. My neighbor’s apartment — the one with the open door — had tape on it.
I asked one of the officers what happened.
He asked me, “Did you hear anything last night?”
I told him about the knocking.
He looked at me for a second, then said something I wish he hadn’t.
“We got a call from that apartment yesterday afternoon. The owner was found dead inside. Heart attack. He’d been dead for hours.”
I felt cold instantly and asked, “Yesterday afternoon… what time?”
He checked his notes.
“About 6 PM.”
I didn’t tell him about the footsteps.
I didn’t tell him the knocking happened at almost 3 AM.
And I definitely didn’t tell him the worst part.
When I got home that night, there were three small dents in my wall.
Right next to my bed.
Like someone knocked from the other side.
Except… there is no apartment on that side of my bedroom.
Just the outside wall.