When I bought the house, the previous owner gave me one strange warning: “Whatever you do, don't remove the shelves in the basement.” I assumed it was some old man's superstition, so six months later, while renovating, I moved them. Behind the shelves was a narrow concrete doorway that had been sealed from the outside. There was no handle, only a small metal slot at eye level. I looked through it and saw 1st a chair, a table, and a mattress on the floor. Someone had been living there. I called the police, but before they arrived, I found something that made me stop breathing—a calendar on the wall with every day crossed out except tomorrow. That night, I heard knocking from behind the sealed door. Three knocks. Then a man's voice whispered, “Please don't let him know you've found me.” I stood frozen in the basement until I heard footsteps above me. Someone was walking through my house. I grabbed my phone and called the police again, but before I could speak, the voice behind the door whispered, “He's already inside.”
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