An Empty Apartment

You've probably all read countless stories about mystical and supernatural occurrences that are nothing more than fiction. But today I offer you something completely different—an absolutely true story, devoid of fiction. I'll tell you about a real mystical incident I witnessed.

It happened on September 16, 2010, when, returning from summer vacation, I decided to check out my old apartment, which had been unoccupied for eight years. The building it occupies was built during the Soviet era, like most of the buildings in our city. The courtyard was a jumble of identical houses surrounded by mature trees that blocked the sun's rays. Therefore, even on the hottest day, the courtyard remained cool. The house was located such that some of the windows faced the courtyard, while others faced the adjacent road. Over the years, the road has fallen into complete disrepair, so it sees virtually no traffic. Across the street is a small military base, formerly home to garages for military trucks. Shortly after the collapse of the USSR, the base closed, and its property was subsequently sold off for next to nothing. Now, in its place stands a small market and several 24-hour shops.

That day, as usual, I was walking toward my house along a small road lined with old chestnut trees. It was already around seven in the evening, and the last rays of the setting sun struggled to penetrate their dense branches. Autumn had arrived quite early that year, bringing with it cold and rainy weather.

As usual, I went up to the fourth floor and, after fiddling with my keys for a bit, crossed the threshold of my apartment. The empty room greeted me with a cold silence, a dense, almost tangible stillness that not even the sound of my own footsteps could break. The building was completely silent—no sounds were heard even from the neighboring apartments, which was somewhat unusual, given the almost complete lack of soundproofing.

After a quick inspection of the apartment, I confirmed that it was still in perfect order and was about to leave when something strange happened. It's worth clarifying that practically opposite the front door is a room that used to be a bedroom—I converted it into my office when I still lived there. The only window in this room doesn't face the street, but rather a balcony that runs alongside the living room and my office. The door leading to the balcony only opens and closes from the outside; it's impossible to open it from the inside.

In the hallway where I was at the time, there was a small mirror reflecting part of the office and the balcony. I had already opened the first door and was starting to open the second when I noticed a shadow in the mirror slipping past the window overlooking the balcony. At the time, I dismissed it as the reflection of car headlights on the walls (this happened every time a car drove past the house), and continued to open the door. Then I heard the sound of the balcony door opening, which was completely out of the question, as the door can only be opened from the living room (as I've already mentioned), not from the balcony. Especially since a few minutes earlier I'd checked the lock myself and confirmed it was locked. But strangely enough, even realizing the impossibility of what was happening, I continued to stand there, straining my ears to every sound in the living room.

I heard heavy footsteps, as if someone was walking from the balcony door toward the hallway. At that very moment, I turned off the light in the hallway and dashed out onto the landing, slamming the door behind me, and with a practiced movement, turned the key in the lock twice. The same footsteps echoed outside the door, and then the door handle swung up and down twice. Then the person standing on the other side jerked the doorknob toward him, and then I heard his footsteps again, this time retreating from the door. Mentally thanking the lock that had allowed me to avoid encountering the occupant of the empty apartment, I locked the other door and hastily left the house, fearing that this creature would still manage to find a way out, and that our next encounter might not end so happily (for me, anyway).

Two weeks later, having mustered up my courage, I returned to the apartment and found nothing unusual. Everything was in its place, the balcony door was locked. In short, there was no indication that anyone else had been there.

Exactly three years have passed since that day. Nothing similar has ever happened in that apartment again. And yet, to this day, I cannot find an explanation for what happened. I now plan to study the history of the house to find out what once stood there. And maybe someday I will find out what happened that evening.