When I was in college, I lived in an old apartment building with thin walls and loud pipes.
At night, I often heard footsteps in the hallway, so at first I did not think much of it. People came home late all the time.
But one night, the footsteps stopped directly outside my door.
Not near my door. Directly in front of it.
I waited for someone to knock, but nothing happened. After maybe a minute, the footsteps started again and moved slowly down the hallway.
The next night, the same thing happened.
And the next.
Always at 2:40 a.m. Footsteps, stop at my door, silence, then continue.
After a week, I finally looked through the peephole when the steps stopped.
There was nobody there.
But the hallway light flickered once, and I heard someone whisper from the other side of the door:
“Not this one.”
I moved out before the end of the semester.