For three months, I kept hearing furniture moving in the apartment above mine. Heavy footsteps, chairs scraping across the floor, sometimes a woman's voice arguing with someone. I complained to the landlord, who looked confused and told me the apartment had been empty for almost two years. I didn't believe him until he opened it for me. There was no furniture, no electricity, nothing—just an empty room covered in dust. But that night, the noises started again. I recorded them on my phone and listened carefully. Beneath the scraping and footsteps, I heard a woman whispering the same sentence repeatedly: “He's downstairs.” I showed the recording to the landlord. He immediately told me to leave the building. When I asked why, he finally admitted that a woman had lived in that apartment with her husband five years earlier. One night, the husband disappeared. The woman was found dead the next morning. The police never discovered where the husband went. The landlord looked at me and said, “The strange thing is, she used to tell everyone she could hear someone living underneath her floor.” That was when I realized the apartment above mine wasn't making the noise. The noise was coming from inside my ceiling.
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