Mysterious Man in the Wilderness and Intrusion at Home 2019
mysterious-manmysterious-man

 Three years ago, during a weekend getaway at a secluded Airbnb cabin, a mysterious encounter unfolded. Explore the eerie events that transpired in the isolated woods and the strange visit from a lost stranger.  

The Enigmatic Intruder: A Weekend Getaway Turned Eerie” 

Around three years ago, I embarked on a peaceful weekend escape, opting for an Airbnb cabin situated four hours away from my hometown. Nestled amidst the woods, the cabin promised isolation with only a handful of neighboring cabins within a mile radius. Excitement filled me as I explored the property upon my early morning arrival, discovering intriguing features that added charm to the remote retreat.

As the afternoon unfolded, I found myself seated on the back patio in a swinging chair, marveling at the scenic view. It was then that I noticed a Mysterious man walking in the woods, seemingly another guest from the nearby cabins. He vanished deeper into the trees, prompting me to continue relishing the tranquility of nature for almost an hour.

As evening descended, I retreated indoors to prepare dinner and indulge in a movie. Unexpectedly, the doorbell rang, catching me off guard as I was unaware the cabin even had one. Opening the front door revealed a Mysterious man standing on the porch—the same individual I had spotted earlier in the woods. With a wide smile, he claimed to be lost for hours and sought assistance in finding his cabin.

A moment of hesitation lingered as a peculiar feeling washed over me. Despite the oddity, I offered to help and suggested using my phone to search for the address. However, when I returned with my phone, mysterious man had vanished without a trace, leaving me perplexed and on edge. The sense of unease persisted, but I eventually went to bed. had vanished without a trace, leaving me perplexed and on edge. The sense of unease persisted, but I eventually went to bed.

Surprisingly, a restful night followed. The next morning, I ventured outside to the back porch, sipping my coffee while reflecting on the unsettling encounter. The woods, once serene, now held a lingering mystery, making my otherwise idyllic weekend getaway take an unexpected turn.

Ten minutes later, I observed an unexpected sight: the Mysterious man from yesterday was walking in the woods, following the same path as before. It seemed like he wasn’t lost, raising questions about why he had vanished without a trace, leaving me perplexed and on edge. The sense of unease persisted, but I eventually went to bed. he had vanished without a trace, leaving me perplexed and on edge.

The sense of unease persisted, but I eventually went to bed. mysterious man had approached my cabin. Perplexed, I retreated indoors and immediately called a friend to share this strange situation. While on the call, something startling happened at 03:13—a doorbell rang. In hushed tones, I explained the situation to my friend, keeping the call going as I cautiously answered the door.

Addressing me with the same lost and seeking-help dialogue as the day before, the Mysterious man’s presence unsettled me. When he suggested searching for an address on my phone, a chill ran down my spine. Slamming the door shut, I updated my friend, who urged me to leave immediately. Hastily packing my bags, I checked the peephole to ensure the mysterious man had departed before heading to my car. As I backed out, mysterious man suddenly appeared in the front window, watching me drive away.

mysterious-man

Upon reaching home, I contacted the Airbnb owner, recounting the unsettling intrusion. Surprisingly, the owner’s response lacked concern, offering a brief apology for my dissatisfaction. The Mysterious man’s motives remained unclear, leaving me bewildered. Even now, the memory of him standing in the window seconds after I left haunts me—the most chilling and creepy experience in my 29 years. Residing along the Appalachian range in Lower West Virginia, I often embark on backpacking adventures, exploring different trails in the nearby mountains.

My best friend, living a few miles away, usually joins me on these excursions. We plan an annual week-long backpacking and camping trip, choosing a different trail each year. In 2019, our plan was to traverse the range and reach a small lake atop the mountains. However, a few days before the trip, my friend had to cancel due to a work emergency. With a week off work and everything ready, I decided to go alone.

On Monday morning, I drove to a nearby trailhead, commencing my route. Unlike regular recreational trails, these backpacking trails lacked defined paths, requiring navigation through maps, compasses, and landmarks. Typically, distinct landmarks such as rock formations guided the way. For the first two days, I hiked towards a mountain ridge. As darkness fell on the second day, I set up camp several hours from reaching the ridge, pitching a tent and kindling a fire

ending a peaceful evening at my campsite, I heated up some packed food as the sun set, settling in my tent around 8 o’clock to read. The crackling fire outside provided a cozy ambiance. However, 20 minutes into reading, a sudden snap of a stick behind my tent startled me. Concerned about a potential black bear drawn by the earlier cooking smells, I cautiously exited my tent, shining a flashlight into the trees. Oddly, there was no sign of anything.

Attempting to scare off potential predators, I called out aggressively, yet there was no fleeing sound. Puzzled by the distinct stick snap, I stayed vigilant before eventually extinguishing the fire and retreating into my tent. Sleep eluded me as I strained to catch any unusual sounds.

Night by the Lake: A Tale of Unease and Intrigue

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Morning brought relief, and I swiftly packed up, continuing my journey toward the lake. Arriving just before sunset, the beauty of the lake made the hike worthwhile. However, unease persisted as I set up camp near the lake’s tree line. Sitting by the fire, I kept hearing soft, eerie noises from the trees behind me, dismissing them as paranoia.

As darkness enveloped the surroundings, the soft footsteps intensified. Though too faint to confirm their origin, I dismissed them, attributing them to the wilderness. Eventually, fatigue overcame me, and I drifted into a restless sleep.

Awakening abruptly, I heard rapid footsteps and saw a shadow darting away. Grabbing my flashlight, I discovered footprints circling my tent. Panic set in as I hastily reignited the campfire, revealing distant figures retreating into the darkness. Heart pounding, I found myself surrounded by mysterious man footprints, the campsite thoroughly inspected. Experience the unsettling tale of a night in the wilderness, filled with fear and suspicion. As the narrator recounts the events, questions arise about a potential intruder stealing from their b

ackpack. The story takes a chilling turn when a storm traps them inside, only to be interrupted by a mysterious man doorbell and a backyard crash.

In a mere 10 minutes, my idyllic night by the lake turned into a terrifying ordeal. Alone and with nowhere to go, paranoia st in after an eerie encounter outside my tent. Throughout the night, I kept vigil by the fire, fearing an unseen presence. By morning, the discomfort pushed me to abandon my planned day-long stay. The return hike was uneventful, yet a lingering unease persisted. Upon inspecting my backpack, I discovered small items missing—food, tools. The chilling thought of an intruder sneaking in while I slept haunts me to this day.

At 10:49, with my roommate away for the week, I found solace at home during spring break. However, a raging storm confined me indoors, intensifying my unease. Opting to stay awake, I immersed myself in a video game. At 11 o’clock, an unexpected doorbell interrupted my solitude. Braving the storm, I found no one at the door, chalking it up to the wind. Resuming my game, a colossal crash in the backyard shattered the eerie calm. Patio furniture scattered in the storm, prompting me to don shoes and investigate. Each piece, now a victim of the wind’s fury, was hastily secured against the house, deepening the mystery of the night.

The wind outside was relentless, stinging my face with every drop of rain as I hurriedly carried the last piece of furniture into the house. Amidst the chaotic weather, I noticed someone standing at the edge of the backyard, observing me. Briefly making eye contact, I decided to prioritize shelter from the rain and darted inside.

Peering through the back door while drying off, I discovered the person had vanished. Between the eerie disappearance and the sudden doorbell ring, a sense of unease settled in. Opting for a moment of respite, I sat in the living room, engrossed in my phone to avoid further interruptions. Exhaustion eventually caught up with me, prompting me to grab a blanket and recline on the couch, eschewing the stormy upstairs.

Several hours later, amidst the nocturnal stillness, a violent gust of wind jolted me awake. Intent on checking the outdoor furniture, I swung my legs off the couch only to realize the floor beneath was wet. A series of puddles traced a path across the room, accompanied by faint muddy shoe prints. Alarmed, I rushed to a corner of the room, my heart pounding, straining to hear over the relentless howling of the wind outside.

mysterious-man
mysterious man

I trailed the unsettling footsteps of an intruder through my home. The shoe prints led me to the unlocked back door, a security lapse in my haste to escape the rain. After securing the door, I reached for my phone to dial 9-1-1, pausing with the thought: What if the intruder was still inside?

In tense silence, I retreated to a concealed corner, placing the call and anxiously awaiting law enforcement. Investigation revealed an unexpected twist—nothing was missing. The intrusion seemed a targeted, personal attack focused on my home.

Investigators highlighted the intruder’s peculiar behavior. Instead of exploiting my vulnerability while asleep, they chose to silently observe. The mysterious focus on my residence deepened the enigma.

A disquieting realization emerged—what if the intruder’s true target wasn’t me but my roommates? The decision to survey and leave without a clear motive hinted at a calculated, personal vendetta. The unsettling intrusion could have taken a darker turn if my roommates had been present, underscoring the gravity of the situation.

As the investigation unfolds, lingering questions persist—Who was the intruder, and what drove their actions? Answers may reveal a complex web of connections within my home, leaving me on edge and eager for resolution.

House-sitting for one of my best friends last year, I took on the responsibility of caring for their lizards, fish, and numerous houseplants during their two-week business trip. Their upscale house offered a welcome change from my apartment, and the first week passed smoothly, feeling almost like a stay in an Airbnb.

One night, while seated at the kitchen table, I was jolted by the sound of a mysterious man coughing just outside the back door. The proximity unnerved me, prompting a swift response. I switched on the outdoor lights, signaling my presence. After a minute of cautious waiting, I peered out the window, but the intruder had vanished. Perplexed, I remained on high alert.

With hunger setting in and the clock ticking past seven, I ventured outside to grab some food. However, my plans took an unexpected turn as I noticed footprints in the yard, a visible trail leading from the sidewalk to the back of the house and back again.

Puzzled, I hopped in my car to pick up dinner, ruminating on the bizarre incident during the drive. Upon my return, a search for additional footprints yielded nothing, leaving me perplexed. I resumed normalcy, watching TV until drowsiness took over, leading me to switch off the television and retire for the night.

Sitting up with my phone for a moment, I suddenly heard movement outside. Footsteps echoed through the front yard, approaching the front door, and then circling around to the back. Now more alert, I got up, and as I listened, the sound of the back door shifting indicated someone was attempting to open it. Hastening to the top of the stairs, I flipped the light switch, illuminating the downstairs.

The sudden brightness revealed a silhouette at the back door—a mysterious man with an unreadable expression. Our eyes locked for a brief, tense moment before   mysterious man swiftly retreated into the darkness. Bewilderment and concern gripped me as I pondered the motive behind this unsettling visit. The following days were filled with heightened vigilance, yet the mysterious man never returned, leaving an unanswered enigma in the wake of his nocturnal intrusion.

The person outside paused, and I cautiously descended a few steps, leaning over the railing to peer at the back door. To my horror, there was no one in sight. Moments later, the tranquility shattered as I witnessed shards of glass flying across the living room, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of a window shattering. Though I couldn’t see it from where I stood, I hastily retreated upstairs to the bedroom.

Soon, the arrival of police was heralded by the crunching of glass under their boots. However, chaos ensued as they seemed to wreak havoc, pushing, hitting, and breaking things. Despite calling for help, I feared they wouldn’t arrive in time. After wrecking the bottom floor for what felt like an eternity, the intruder ascended the stairs, venturing into one of the spare bedrooms to repeat the destructive pattern.

To my dismay, he eventually reached the bedroom where I sought refuge. Trying to break down the locked door,   mysterious man violently smashed something against it. A panel nearly flew off, granting him access. The intruder, masked and hooded, wielding a metal baseball bat, entered. Cowering in the corner, I held back tears as he glared at me with rage, but then, unexpectedly, his gaze shifted away, and he began…

Smashing through the walls and furniture within the room, the intruder showed no acknowledgment of my presence. Methodically,   mysterious man wrecked the entire room in record time, then swiftly bypassed me, proceeding to the next room before eventually heading downstairs and leaving the house. I remained frozen in the same spot until the police arrived.

When my friend returned early the next day to address the aftermath, we found the entire house in shambles, with every room and piece of furniture destroyed. Strangely, nothing was stolen. Law enforcement surmised that the attack was likely orchestrated by someone my friend knew, but she couldn’t identify anyone with a motive for such a malicious act. I attempted to provide a description of the intruder, b

ut he was fully covered, rendering my account less helpful. The most unsettling aspect was his blatant disregard for my presence, displaying confidence and an absence of perceived threat. To this day, the intruder has not returned, and the motive behind the destruction remains unknown.

This incident occurred last year when I was working at a gas station. Despite the commonality of such events in this line of work, one never expects to become a victim. On this rainy night, with fewer customers due to the uncomfortable weather, I found myself engaged in the routine of overseeing the convenience store. Occasionally, I’d wander around to stretch my legs, but most of my time was spent on my phone.

As I perused my social media feeds, a peculiar noise interrupted the usual quietude of the night.

I heard a rhythmic tapping on the glass door, drawing my attention away from my phone. To my surprise, a figure stood outside in the rain—a Mysterious man with his face obscured by the hood of his jacket. Motioning that the door was unlocked, I waved for him to enter. However, he continued tapping, seemingly unaware of my presence.

Curiosity led me to pull the door open, offering a greeting. Without acknowledging me, the Mysterious man walked past and headed to the counter. It struck me as oddly oblivious. Returning behind the counter, I watched as he requested a pack of cigarettes, paid in cash, and nonchalantly left. It was only when I glanced out the window that I realized there were no cars in the parking area or by the gas pumps.

The Mysterious man strolled away, unfazed by the rain, eventually reaching the road and continuing along the shoulder. Puzzled by the situation, I couldn’t help but wonder about the purpose of his visit. Had he needed assistance with a broken-down car? But all he bought was a pack of cigarettes.

An hour later, the tapping on the door resumed. It was the same Mysterious man. Opening the door, I inquired about his well-being, offering the use of my phone. No response. Attempting to communicate, I suggested borrowing the phone, to which he replied, “down the road.” Peering into the distance, I saw nothing. His gaze, however, pointed to a gas container near the pumps.

Understanding his need for assistance, I offered to help. mysterious man handed me a credit card, and I proceeded to pump gas into the container, realizing that language might be a barrier for him.

I saw a perfect opportunity to earn some extra cash—$200 to dog-sit for five days. Brienne had shown me around her house a week before, introducing me to her huge husky named Bear. He was a bit overweight but undeniably adorable. Brienne assured me that I could help myself to any food, and the front door, secured with a numerical code, added an extra layer of safety.

A week later, on a Friday night, shortly after Brienne and her husband left for California, I settled into the routine. The first two days were relaxed; I worked in the afternoon, took Bear for rides, and enjoyed late-night movies with him by my side. All seemed well until a knock on the door disrupted the tranquility on a Monday night.

Peering through the peephole, I saw a Mysterious man in what looked like a black police uniform. A bit skeptical, I opened the door to inquire. “Hello, I’m looking for a George,” he said. Panic set in—I knew no George. I explained I was dog-sitting and had been there since Friday. He asked how long I would be there, and I, perhaps naively, disclosed until Wednesday. mysterious man left, but the encounter left me uneasy. I shared the incident with Brienne, who dismissed it casually.

Things returned to normal until Wednesday night. As I lay in bed around midnight, a nagging thought urged me to check the front door’s lock. Fortunately, it was secure, but an unsettling feeling lingered. At 3:05 a.m., Bear’s frantic barking jolted me awake. A sense of fear gripped me—I wondered if someone had broken in. I rose from my bed and headed to the living room, where Bear, my dog, was growling and barking at the front door. Peering through the peephole, I spotted the same individual accompanied by another person, both dressed in security guard uniforms

. The fact that they returned, aware that I was alone, sent shivers down my spine. Refusing to open the door this time, I ensured that all the entrances were securely locked. As they walked away, I cautiously opened the door, scanning for any sign of a security vehicle, only to find none. Bear’s vigilant barking might have been the deterrent that scared them off.

Uneasy and perplexed, I returned inside, deciding not to share the unsettling encounter with Brienne, who was in California at the time. The incident lingered in my mind as I spent just one more night there. To this day, the identity and motives of those Mysterious Individuals Remain unknown, and I haven’t returned to dog sit since that unsettling night last year.

Seeking a change of scenery, I embarked on a spontaneous 10-day road trip, charting a course through five or six different cities. Opting not to pre-book any hotels, I allowed the journey to unfold organically, uncertain of the duration in each city or where I’d take breaks.

During my road trip, I relied on hotels that allowed walk-ins. For the first five nights, finding decent accommodations along my route was not an issue. However, on the sixth night, around 11 pm, fatigue set in, and my eyes grew heavy as I drove between cities. Wanting to press on to the next major city and then find a place to rest, I realized it was impossible given my drowsiness.

Feeling nervous about the prospect of having to park on the side of the road for sleep, I contacted several big-name hotels on the way, only to discover that none of them were accepting walk-ins at that time. Just as I was starting to worry, a sign for a hotel appeared 10 miles ahead. I drove to the building, a small, single-story structure resembling more of a motel with several rooms. The parking lot had a few other cars, but it was mostly empty.

Approaching the reception desk, I asked the woman if there was a room available. Luckily, they had one, and she handed me a key card. Although the room was outdated, considering the price, it wasn’t too bad. However, my sense of security was quickly shaken.

Within a minute of entering the room, there was a knock at the door. Opening it slightly to see who it was, I encountered a Mysterious man mumbling to himself. The moment he noticed the door open, he tried to force his way in while still muttering incoherently. Reacting quickly, I extended my arm to block him, instructing him to leave. After a moment, he turned around and walked away. While it was odd, I dismissed it, thinking he was likely just a lost and disoriented individual.

About 15 minutes later, I was awakened by another knock on the door. Annoyed, I assumed it was the same Mysterious man from earlier. Having learned my lesson, I secured the chain bolt before opening the door slightly. It was fortunate I did because the moment I unlocked the door, the man forcefully rammed into it, shouting nonsensical sentences. I stepped back immediately and called 9-1-1.

Undeterred, the Mysterious man continued slamming into the door, attempting to break in. After a few minutes, he even tried using a knife to cut the chain, causing me considerable distress. The commotion persisted until it suddenly went quiet. When the police arrived later, the man was gone. I couldn’t comprehend his motives or what might have been wrong with him, but his aggressive actions with a knife were undeniably frightening. It served as a stark reminder that one wrong move, like answering a door or leaving it unlocked, could expose one to potential dangers from individuals with malicious intentions.

I don’t believe mysterious man had a personal issue with me, but there are times when I feel like I’m being watched. I moved to a newly built house across the state after my previous landlord decided to sell the property I was leasing. Excited about the new place, I quickly noticed my neighbor across the street, a middle-aged Mysterious man, staring at me multiple times within the first few days.

Despite my attempts to dismiss it as mere curiosity about the new resident, his constant gaze and lack of interaction raised concerns. He rarely spoke, never smiled, and seemed perpetually at home. The unease escalated one night when I heard a scraping sound outside, catching him dragging a large ladder across his lawn at an unusually late hour.

Trying to shake off paranoia, I continued with my routine. However, the neighbor’s odd behavior persisted—he would stand at the end of my driveway, staring through my window. Unnerved, I began taking precautions, locking doors and windows, but the feeling of being watched lingered.

The situation took a darker turn when I heard footsteps in my fenced backyard one night. Despite calling the police, the mysterious man figure vanished before their arrival. With no evidence of wrongdoing, I felt isolated in my concern. As a precaution, I tightened security measures but still didn’t feel entirely safe.

Things escalated further when, one night, I woke to a thudding sound against the side of my house. Alarmed, I discovered my neighbor on a ladder, attempting to peer into my second-story bedroom window. I immediately called the police, leading to his apprehension. Although he denied any wrongdoing, subsequent discussions with neighbors revealed similar unsettling encounters.

In another chapter of my life, I lived with my older brother for four years after completing school. As he planned to move out due to better financial prospects, I faced the challenge of finding affordable housing. Eventually, I found a room for rent in a homeowner’s house, owned by a Mysterious man named Evan.

Evan, in his mid-30s, seemed regular, albeit somewhat shy. The house, although small, appeared decent from the outside. Despite having communicated with Evan and seen pictures, I hadn’t viewed the house in person until moving day. After a quick tour, Evan helped me move in, and everything seemed satisfactory.

I unpacked a bit more and set up my bed, finally ready to sleep by nine o’clock. Walking over to my door to lock it and turn off the lights, I noticed something unusual. As I reached for the doorknob, I realized there was no lock on it—it was empty. Perplexed, I opened the door and discovered that the lock was on the outside. I approached Evan in the living room, questioning why the bedroom door locked from the outside. He seemed unaware but promised to switch it around the next day. Shrugging it off, I returned to my room, tired but with an odd discovery lingering in my mind.

In the middle of the night, I awoke to the sound of movement in the kitchen, attributing it to Evan getting water. Closing my eyes, I heard him walking back down the hallway. However, as he passed my room, he stopped.

Opening my eyes, I saw him standing outside my door, quietly observing for about 15 seconds before I heard a click—he had locked my door. Panic set in as Evan walked to his room. Reacting quickly, I went to the door, finding it locked. I called out to Evan, and he swiftly came, unlocking the door. I confronted him, shocked and angry, as he stumbled through an explanation about wanting to ensure his safety. Despite understanding his concern, I made it clear that locking someone in a room was not an acceptable approach.

Determined to leave, I stayed up all night on the living room couch, waiting for the U-Haul store to open. When it did, I packed up and left, glimpsing Evan’s closed bedroom door as I exited. Upon my return, Evan’s room was empty, adding another layer to the already bizarre situation. I left, grateful to be away from the unsettling events that had transpired.

My brother provided a temporary place to stay, leaving me with lingering questions about the strange occurrences in that house. The unsettling experience had me wondering about the potential dangers I had narrowly escaped.

I work as a receptionist at a local hotel, primarily on overnight shifts. My responsibilities include managing the front desk, checking in guests, answering phone calls, and monitoring security cameras. This particular night, the hotel was mostly empty, with only a few guests staying.

While sitting at the front desk on my phone, I noticed a Mysterious man approaching the entrance. He walked in with bloodshot eyes and asked for a room for the night, clearly under the influence of something. Despite his condition, I checked him in and handed him a room key, as our policy allowed for walk-in bookings when the hotel occupancy was less than 75 percent.

A few hours later, I heard a noise coming from the hallway—resembling a thumping sound, as if a door was being forced open. Investigating, I found the Mysterious man I had checked in earlier attempting to open one of our maintenance doors. I approached him, asking if mysterious man needed help, but he just stared at me with unsettling eyes. Unsure of his intentions, I returned to my desk, uneasy about the encounter.

A considerable amount of time passed without any activity or sounds within the building. It was around three in the morning, and in an effort to stay awake and occupied, I took a brief walk around the bottom floor. As I reached the hallway near the front desk, a sudden loud banging echoed from one of the rooms, causing me to stop and listen. Prompted by curiosity, I ascended the stairs to the second floor, where the noise seemed to originate.

Upon reaching the second floor, an eerie quietness pervaded, making me uneasy. Moving down the hall, I heard nothing until I reached the end, where one of the room doors stood open. After a moment of listening and receiving no response to a light knock, I cautiously peeked inside. The room appeared empty, and while hesitant to venture too far in, I was certain no one was inside. Closing the door, I noted the room number—112, the one I had assigned to a Mysterious man who seemingly never left the building.

Returning to the front desk, I surveyed the security cameras in the lobby and outside, but the Mysterious man was nowhere to be found. Abruptly, the hotel phone rang, jolting me. A woman on the line reported a man knocking on her door in the middle of the night. Apologizing, I assured her I would address the issue and hung up. A growing sense of unease settled in as another call came in, this time from a different room with a similar experience.

Without hesitation, I dialed the police, standing by the front doors until their arrival. Thankfully, they came before anything escalated, but their search yielded no sign of the mysterious man. Instead, they discovered a broken window in his room, suggesting he had jumped from the second story. The situation became even more perplexing when the police received a report that the car used to pay for the room had been stolen.

The Mysterious man’s intentions and the reason for knocking on doors remained unclear. Grateful that none of the guests opened their doors, I reflected on how the situation could have taken a much darker turn. This unsettling incident occurred a couple of years ago, shortly after I rented and moved into a new house. The first week had passed without any issues, making the subsequent events all the more unexpected.

I unpacked, purchased some new furniture, and arranged everything to my liking in my new home. The primary reason for my move was a work-from-home job, and having a quiet space was crucial. The house was secluded, providing a peaceful work environment. One morning, after making breakfast and settling down to work, I heard a knock at the front door. Curious, I answered to find my landlord smiling, asking about my well-being. I engaged in small talk, though puzzled by his unexpected visit. After a brief check-in, mysterious man left, and I resumed my work, finding the encounter somewhat odd.

Later that day, I went for a walk around the neighborhood, only to realize I hadn’t explored beyond my street. As I returned home, I noticed a car parked nearby—a vehicle I recognized as my landlord’s from when mysterious man showed me the house. Strangely, it was unoccupied. Concerned, I hurried inside, checking for any signs of his presence outside. Unable to spot him, I dismissed the incident, thinking nothing more of it.

Hours passed, and another knock echoed from the front door. Peering through the peephole, I saw my landlord again. Annoyed, I opened the door, expressing my wish for advance notice before his visits. Politely, I hinted at the need for privacy, but something about his demeanor left me uneasy. Despite my discomfort, I bid him farewell and returned to work.

As I contemplated the best way to establish boundaries, an unexpected disturbance interrupted my night’s rest. Well past midnight, I was startled by another knock on the door. Irritated, I descended the stairs, ready to confront my landlord. Upon opening the door, my frustration peaked—once again, it was him. Angrily, I questioned his presence, only to learn of a supposed immediate repair needed in the basement due to a gas leak alarm on his phone. Skeptical, I insisted on waiting until morning to address the issue. Attempting to close the door, I was taken aback as mysterious man forced his way inside, carrying a duffel bag.

Growing uneasy, I hesitated to follow him to the basement. Sensing danger, I concocted a quick excuse to retrieve my phone. Rushing upstairs, I grabbed my phone and keys, then circled back to check the contents of the duffel bag. To my surprise, there were no conventional tools inside, deepening the mystery.

I remained uncertain about their identity and lacked the time to unravel the mystery. Hearing them approach, I hastily left the house and jumped into my car, driving away. I dialed the police as I headed to a nearby parking lot. The aftermath of that unsettling incident continues to haunt me daily.

Upon the police’s arrival, my landlord was still present, but the duffel bag mysterious man had brought earlier was conspicuously missing. Despite a thorough search, it was never recovered. Surprisingly, the unsettling events didn’t result in significant consequences. I managed to move out without incurring any lease-breaking fees, given the landlord’s peculiar and unwelcome behavior. While I seized the opportunity to relocate promptly, the unsettling thought persists—this individual might still be out there, potentially subjecting someone else to the same unnerving experience. Unfortunately, the feeling of powerlessness remains, as there seems to be nothing I can do to prevent it from happening again.

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By Sara Alex

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