I moved into the apartment because it was cheap.
The building looked old, with cracked walls and dim lights in the corridor. Still, I didn't care. I needed a place to stay, and this was all I could afford.
The landlord handed me the key and said, "Your room is 303."
I nodded, then pointed at the door beside mine.
"What about Room 304?"
His face changed. For a moment, he didn't answer.
"No one lives there," he said finally. "Don't worry about it."
That answer felt strange, but I didn't ask again.
My room was small but clean. A bed, a table, and a mirror on the wall. I unpacked my bag and tried to sleep.
The first night passed quietly.
The second night, something happened.
I woke up suddenly.
The room was dark.
Then I heard it.
Footsteps.
Slow… heavy footsteps.
They were coming from the corridor.
I checked my phone.
3:04 a.m.
The footsteps stopped in front of the door next to mine.
Room 304.
I sat up in bed, my heart pounding. The silence felt thick, like the air itself was holding its breath.
Then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Not on my door.
On the wall between our rooms.
I didn't move.
I didn't breathe.
The knocking stopped.
After a few minutes, everything went quiet again.
In the morning, I asked the landlord, "Someone was walking near Room 304 last night."
He stared at me.
"There is no one there," he said.
That night, I locked my door and kept the light on.
At 3:04 a.m., the footsteps returned.
This time, they were closer.
The wall felt cold when I touched it. I could hear breathing on the other side.
I whispered, "Who is there?"
No answer.
Only a soft scratching sound.
I couldn't sleep anymore.
On the third night, I decided to look.
At 3:04 a.m., when the footsteps began, I opened my door slowly.
The corridor lights were flickering.
Room 304 was at the end of the hall.
Its door was closed.
But something was written on it.
In black.
DO NOT OPEN.
My hands were shaking.
I went back into my room and locked the door.
When I turned around, my mirror looked… wrong.
My reflection was standing there.
But it wasn't copying me.
It was smiling.
I raised my hand.
The reflection didn't.
It lifted its own hand and pointed behind me.
I turned around.
There was nothing.
When I looked back at the mirror, words were slowly appearing on the glass.
As if someone was writing with invisible fingers.
"You are in my room."
I stepped back.
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
WHY DID YOU COME HERE?
Before I could reply, another message came.
THIS WAS MY PLACE.
The lights went out.
The knocking started again.
This time, not from the wall.
From my door.
Slow… careful… patient.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I backed away from the door.
The mirror cracked with a sharp sound.
In the broken glass, I saw another face.
My face.
But pale.
And dead.
A whisper filled the room.
Cold and close to my ear.
"Room 304 is empty… because you are living in it now." I could not sleep after that night.
Every sound felt louder than before.
The wind outside the window sounded like whispers.
I kept looking at the mirror again and again, afraid of what I might see.
At exactly 3:04 a.m., my phone vibrated.
A new message appeared on the screen.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
"YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE."
My hands were cold.
I typed back:
"Who are you?"
No reply came.
Instead, the knocking returned.
Slow… careful… and close.
From the wall of Room 304.