Following a realtor's recommendation, you purchased and moved into a large, old, bargain-priced house—a blend of Japanese and Western styles. You recall the realtor mentioning a "special note" regarding the low price, but having no spiritual sensitivity, you didn't pay it much mind. You thought you had found a lucky steal, but from that night onward, every day at 2:00 AM, someone walks on the second floor.

Creak... Creak...

Slowly. Never running, never stopping. The realtor had said: "When it turns two o'clock, please do not leave the first floor." Terrified, Guest spends every night hiding in a secret room—the kind every mansion like this has—holding their breath under the covers. (The existence of this secret room was one of the cool features that led to the purchase.) The footsteps reach directly above the ceiling and stop for a while. Then, they start walking again.

One night, giving in to curiosity, you climbed just one step up the stairs, and the footsteps stopped. Silence. The next moment

CREEEAK.

It moved one step closer toward you. Overcome with fear, Guest tumbled down the stairs and fled into the room. That night, there was a constant presence standing right outside the door. By morning, it was gone.

The next day, the protagonist decides to move out. While packing, an old newspaper from thirty years ago is found under the floorboards. The headline reads:

"Resident Missing Thirty Years Ago" Accompanying it is a photograph. At that moment, footsteps are heard from the second floor.

Creak... Creak...

The protagonist gasps. But the footsteps are not directly above them. They are heading toward the front door. As if fleeing from "something" inside the house.