I opened the door to the house.

As I turned on the lights, the luxurious decor immediately caught my eye, making me feel a tinge of envy.

This house was really nice. It was very quiet, even during the day—almost no noise could be heard.

The only drawback was that it was quite dim, requiring the lights to be on even during the day.

Perhaps that’s why this house was priced lower than others.

I changed into slippers and began setting up the cameras. After adjusting them, the entire room was displayed on my computer screen.

Once the preparations were done, I casually searched on Google for “why it feels like someone is always watching you at home.”

Surprisingly, I found some interesting information.

Some people claimed that the feeling of being watched isn’t just an illusion, but that there really is something watching you. However, this “something” exists in a different dimension from humans, so we can’t see it, but it can see us.

People with a strong sixth sense can sense when they are being watched.

And the “something” they referred to is often a ghost.

The explanations on the internet seemed quite convincing. They also mentioned that if you really feel like you’re being watched, it could mean that someone died in that house, and it wasn’t a natural death.

They warned that you shouldn’t leave the house or open the door at night, or something bad might happen.

After reading these articles, I just chuckled to myself.

If I had seen this when I was a kid, I might have believed it and even exaggerated the story to David.

But now that I’m an adult, how could I believe in the existence of ghosts?

Feeling a bit bored, I played a few games, and around eleven o’clock, I decided to go to bed.

I’m usually a sound sleeper, and I fell asleep within minutes of lying down.

I don’t know how long I had been asleep, but I was suddenly jolted awake by a loud knocking sound.

For someone like me, who sleeps deeply, I usually ignore any noise once I’m asleep.

But tonight, the knocking was relentless and incredibly loud, as if it wouldn’t stop until morning unless I opened the door.

Unable to bear it any longer, I crawled out of bed, furious, and rushed to open the door, cursing under my breath.

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“Who is it? It’s the middle of the night—did you forget your keys?” I shouted without thinking.

As soon as I finished shouting, I froze.

I suddenly remembered that this wasn’t my house, and I was the only one living here.

So who could be knocking at the door in the middle of the night?

When no one answered, I quickly leaned against the peephole to look outside.

There, I saw a girl standing outside the door, dressed in black with red high heels. She was stunningly beautiful.

I was about to open the door to ask who she was looking for, but then I recalled what I had read online about not opening the door at night...

At that moment, my right hand was already on the doorknob, but I hesitated to open the door.

It wasn’t that I believed everything I had read online, but as a guy living away from home, it was better to be cautious.

I quickly shouted again through the door, “Who are you?”

The girl outside replied, her voice cold and emotionless, “I’m looking for Lucy. Is Lucy home?”

Her tone was so icy that it made me shiver. There was no hint of apology for disturbing my sleep.

I thought to myself, “Who is Lucy?”

Could she be a friend of the owner? If she’s a friend, why didn’t she call first?

Impatient to get back to sleep, I curtly said, “There’s no Lucy here. You’ve got the wrong place.”

Suddenly, there was silence outside. I quickly looked through the peephole again and saw that the girl hadn’t moved an inch. She was still standing there, staring intently at the door.

I have to admit, her behavior was unsettling. It felt like she was unhinged. I had already told her she had the wrong place, so why wasn’t she leaving?

I grabbed my phone and some cigarettes and headed to the bathroom.

When I came back, I checked the peephole again and saw that she was gone.

Where did this crazy person come from in the middle of the night?

I breathed a sigh of relief and went back to bed.

This time, I slept deeply, until I was woken up by the need to use the bathroom. I didn’t want to get up, but as I lay there in a half-asleep state, I heard another sound.

This time, it wasn’t knocking—it sounded like a television.

But there was no TV in the bedroom; the only one was in the living room. So how could I hear the sound of a TV?

Also, the bed in the bedroom was quite hard, but I realized that the place where I was lying was soft, almost like a sofa.

I sat up immediately, fully awake.

I realized that I wasn’t in the bedroom at all—I was lying on the living room sofa, and the TV was on.

My eyes widened as a wave of fear washed over me. I distinctly remembered going to sleep in the bedroom, and I hadn’t turned on the TV at all since entering the house, so why was it on?

In the dim light from the TV, I noticed something even more disturbing—there were spots on the floor that looked like wet cement, shaped like footprints. The prints were strange—rounded at the back and pointed at the front, as if they had been made by high heels.

I followed the footprints with my eyes and saw that they extended all the way to the bedroom door.

The bedroom door was open, but the footprints disappeared right at the threshold.

Staring at the line of footprints on the floor, my scalp tingled with fear. Without thinking, I grabbed my phone, not even bothering to put on shoes, and rushed out the door.

I ran as fast as I could until I was completely out of breath, then collapsed on the ground, gasping for air.

What were those footprints?

I had clearly gone to sleep in the bedroom, so how did I end up on the sofa?

Suddenly, I remembered the girl who had knocked on the door. She had been wearing high heels—red high heels.

Could it be... that she sneaked into the house while I was asleep and turned on the TV?

Did she also leave those footprints?

But even if she did all that, how did she move me to the sofa?

This series of strange events filled me with a deep sense of dread.

Whether it was a ghost or someone playing a cruel prank, I didn’t dare go back to that house alone.

I quickly pulled out my phone and called David for help.