THE HOUSE THAT CALLED ME

When Daniel inherited an abandoned house from a relative he had never heard of, he assumed it was worthless.

The lawyer warned him not to enter the property alone.

Daniel laughed.

The house had been empty for thirty years.

What could possibly happen?

Inside, he found dust-covered furniture, old photographs, and dozens of cassette tapes stacked beside an ancient recorder.

Curious, he played one.

A man's voice began speaking.

“Daniel arrived at the house today.”

Daniel froze.

The recording continued.

“He doesn't know why he inherited it.”

Daniel looked at the date written on the cassette.

August 31, 2026.

Today's date.

He played another.

“Daniel will find the basement tonight.”

He immediately stopped the tape.

There was no way.

He hadn't told anyone about the house.

He hadn't even known there was a basement.

Yet beneath the kitchen floor, he found a hidden staircase.

At the bottom was a room filled with photographs.

Hundreds of them.

Daniel's entire life was documented.

His first day at school.

His parents.

His first girlfriend.

His graduation.

His first apartment.

There were photographs of moments nobody else had witnessed.

Then he found one of himself standing inside the basement.

The photograph was dated tomorrow.

Behind him stood a man.

Daniel didn't recognize him.

Until he looked at an old family photograph.

The man was his father.

His father had supposedly died when Daniel was six.

Then the cassette recorder upstairs switched on by itself.

A voice whispered:

“Daniel, if you found the photographs, don't go upstairs.”

Daniel heard footsteps above him.

Then his father's voice:

“He's already upstairs.”

The Woman in the Police Report