The Flat That Wasn’t Empty

When Oliver moved into a cheap flat in an old London building, the landlord gave him one strange rule: never open the locked cupboard beneath the stairs.

Oliver thought it was ridiculous until he began hearing scratching from inside every night. Then came footsteps, followed by a quiet voice whispering his name.

“Oliver…”

He asked the landlord about it, but the man became unusually nervous.

“It’s been sealed for years,” he said. “Just leave it alone.”

One night, Oliver returned home and found the cupboard door slightly open.

He was certain he had locked it.

Through the gap, he saw nothing but darkness. Then something moved inside.

Oliver stepped back.

“Who’s there?”

A voice answered.

It sounded exactly like him.

“Oliver… open the door.”

The next morning, the landlord finally told him the truth.

“The last tenant opened that cupboard,” he whispered.

Oliver swallowed. “Where is he now?”

The landlord pointed toward the stairs.

“He never left.”

From inside the cupboard came three slow knocks.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Then the voice whispered:

“There are others.”

The Room Above Mine